#‘I don’t like bully romances’ I say. even though I am enjoying this one. and my beautiful man. and I will probably like dangerous romance.

[legendaryrooftopscene]

I did not like the first few eps of A Shoulder To Cry On but I have to say I LOVE “they’re dating but they don’t know they’re dating” so today’s episode was 10/10

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 10

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Though this is where the c.ai help ended because I was breaking the bot's pea pickin' mind. 😆

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER TOO!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine.

Ten. 十

You don’t know where you get the courage to growl at this fierce man who has you in his grasp. But goddammit if he doesn’t just laugh at you–and sling you over his shoulder, carrying you like a caveman to his lair.

You do the requisite pounding on his broad back, the kicking of the feet. You swear it only makes him enjoy it more, as he tosses you down. You brace and let out a yelp, expecting hard floor below. You’re shocked, when you sink into soft mattress instead.

Which maybe isn’t great either. 

You try to scramble away, but his big hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back, and then he is crawling over you, settling all that solid, masculine–delicious–weight on top of you. You feel him smile against your mouth, your hands pinned above your head. “Am I going to have to restrain you, to do what I want to you?” he asks casually, kissing the sensitive skin of the bend of your neck. “Or are you going to behave?”

You freeze beneath him at hearing the word restrain. As in what? Handcuffs? Ropes? Oh no. Somehow, that would be worse than everything else that’s happened tonight, and you fight not to hyperventilate beneath him, closing your eyes and grinding your teeth, even though all you really want to do is thrash like a trapped animal. 

That’s not going to work with this man. He’s too…everything. Smart. Strong. Cruel. Connected. You’re not going to beat him with brawn and you’d be a fool to count on luck. He watches you interestedly from inches away, as all this plays through your brain. You swear, he can read it like a news ticker scrolling above your head. He knows you so well.  

You hardly recognize your voice, when you ask quietly, “Will you promise…not to hurt me?”

You close your eyes again as he strokes your hair. “No,” he answers, and a spear of fear shoots down your spine. “But I don’t want to hurt you, y/n. I want your submission.”

“I don’t…understand the difference,” you admit, the fresh welling of tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. 

“Hmm.” He wipes away the moisture on your cheeks, bringing it to his lips. “I’m not wife-beating trailer trash, y/n. You’re not going to submit to me because of my fists. That would be too easy.” 

A shaky breath escapes you, as you think about how he’s used his superior strength to bully you so far. If he’s feeling self-righteous…it’s a thin fucking line. “I’m…not?”

“No.” He kisses you, lullingly gentle, cloyingly sweet. You are on even higher alert now than when he’d grabbed you earlier. “You’re going to submit, because it’s what you’ve really wanted all along. And I’m going to show you.” 

Your eyes bug wide.

“I don’t–no! That’s not fair!”

That is when his kiss upon your shoulder turns into a sharp nip. You yelp, and he is on his elbows over you, your face bracketed in his big hands. “You have a very bad habit of trying to lie to me, little one. We’re going to have to work on that.”

“I just…I don’t understand!”

“What is there to understand?” His thumbs stroke your temples, gentle once more. This man gives you whiplash.

“Why…” You try to look away, but he won’t let you.

“If you can’t look into my eyes and say it, then I’ll think you’re lying,” he scolds you. “It’s basic human behavior 101.”

With a growl you glare up at him. For some reason he finds this delightful, flashing teeth. You’re sure he knows, with a gimlet stare like his, how hard it is for mere mortals to meet head on. His standards are unfair. It’s like making a deal with a demigod–or a demon–who already knows he holds all the cards.

“Why me?” you manage to grind out. “You could have anyone.”

“I could buy anyone,” he agrees. He softens slightly, looking down at you. “But you don’t care about my money, do you? You want something else from me.” He smirks, and you are mortified all over again, a flush of heat blooming up your neck. “I read all about it.”

“Ugh.”

He chuckles, enjoying himself far too much at your expense.

When he lowers to kiss you, you consider biting him for about 2.3 seconds.

“Do it,” he dares you, his words a dagger clothed in velvet. “See what happens.” He says it almost eagerly, as though he’d welcome the leave to be terrible again. You have to remember that about him. He dangles tenderness before you like bait, not genuine sentiment. You’re playing a game, and the rules can change on this man’s whim.

He says he doesn’t want to hurt you–you’re not sure that’s true, and it certainly doesn’t mean he won’t. You can trust him as far as you can throw him, and judging by his delectable dead weight on top of you…that’s not far.

You close your eyes, feeling helpless again. And stupid. And…still turned on, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. You don’t know how you’re aroused when you should be disgusted, screaming, crying, fighting–it would win you nothing. He’s going to have his way, so you can fight it…or you can enjoy it for now, and bide your time, because he has to slip up at some point, right?

Right?

He feels the change in you, when you start softening to the onslaught of his lips, his hands on your body tracing every dip and curve. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, and you swear his praise lights up something in your brain like a red hot wire.

This isn’t it, you promise yourself. You are in a war with this man. And maybe you lost the first battle, and swiftly the second too, but not the whole war. You are not conquered yet. You are not conquered yet. 

With this new resolve you reach for the buttons of his shirt. They are small, and stubborn, and you let out a frustrated growl that makes Donaka smirk down at you. “Don’t rip it. This shirt cost more than a month's salary for you.”

“Well, you’re always bragging about how much money you have,” you fire back, jerking the two halves. You’re proud of yourself when there’s a tearing sound and the button goes flying. Fair’s fair. Donaka grins like a wolf, then suddenly you are flipped on your belly, your ass in the air and your panties wrenched down your thighs. 

Smack.

You scream, his big hand on your backside stinging like a swarm of angry bees, and instinctively you squirm to get away from him. But he holds you down with an unforgiving grip in your hair, pushing your face down into the mattress.

Then you hear the jangle of his belt buckle again, and the warning hiss of leather sliding free of loops. “No, no,” you beg, struggling, to zero avail. His grip is unbreakable, like this man is made of iron.

“That depends on you. Are you going to damage my property again?”

“No,” you whimper into the bedclothes, hating how small you sound. 

“That’s what I thought.”

He drops the belt beside you on the bed like a reminder, before caressing your tender bottom ever so lightly, soothing the sting. How…does that actually feel good?

He makes a sound of appreciation, pulling you against the hard bulge in his crotch with hands on your hips. He spreads your thighs wider, leaving you utterly open and vulnerable to him. You hate to say it, but you are too unnerved to fight him, so conscious of that leather strap sitting beside you like an open threat.

“Stay there,” he directs, and you do as you’re told, listening to the whisper of fabric behind you as you presume he’s undressing. 

It’s a very awkward position, and your thighs begin to tremble. You are utterly exposed like this, splayed wide open. Yet you do not dare complain, suspecting you have used up your free passes with this man for the evening. He is just waiting for an excuse.

“You are exquisite,” he sighs from behind you. “I could stare at this view all night.”

An equal mixture of uneasy warmth and mortification fills you, displayed like this for him, so utterly open with nowhere to hide. Then you wonder if he’s threatening to keep you like this for hours more as a punishment. Yet before you can even begin to think of what to say to him, he has crouched beside the bed, and his mouth is on you. 

“Oh,” is the only intelligible word that leaves your lips. Everything that comes after is mere guttural nonsense, as his tongue teases your clit, sliding against your nether lips, and you see stars. All else forgotten, you become a slave to pursuing this pleasure, your fingers like claws in the sheets, canting your hips to give him better access to anything he wants. He moans against you, a deep sound that reverberates into your womb.

You whine like the needy little thing you have become when he withdraws, wiping his mouth on the butt cheek he struck not minutes before, kissing you with a tenderness that is nearly as beguiling as his tongue in your slit.

“Shhhh, sweet girl. I’ve got what you need, if you promise to be good for me.” You feel him kneel behind you, the warmth of his hand on your spine, the intoxicating kiss of his tip to your entrance. You’re not proud–but you want it. God, in that moment you want him more than air to breathe. You betray yourself, with the tilt of your hips, with the keening that escapes from your traitor of a throat.

“Mmm,” he practically purrs from behind you. “Do you promise, y/n?” He uses his tip to tease your slick folds, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. 

This is just a battle.

You make a sound of affirmative, a kittenish mewl because real language escapes you. 

“Use your words, bunny.”

Not the war.

“Yes.” It's all you can manage, and he takes mercy on you, betraying his eagerness too. Slowly he fills you, stretching your flesh inch by blessed inch until you can take no more. He could give you more. He could hurt you, badly, like this. Yet he’s so careful with you that you could weep, the slow glide of his body inside yours the stuff heaven is made of. 

It's funny. Despite the terrible things he did to you earlier, if you squint, it almost feels like he cares about you. The logical part of you knows it’s all a mind fuck. It has to be. But that part of you…is drowning in an inky sea of your other desires. Things you’re usually good at denying, because they’ve never caused you anything but trouble… Maybe that was a mistake on your part, because now you’re here with this dangerous man, and you’re so pent up that you can’t say no. 

That feeling of bliss intensifies when he reaches between your legs, slowly circling your clit as he pumps inside you. You involuntarily clench upon him, winning a low groan.  He drapes his long body over yours, kissing your spine, his hand encircling the front of your throat. 

“Tell me this isn’t better than just writing about it,” he demands, his low words against your ear sending a shiver through you. 

The simple answer, of course, is yes. The rest, however, is far too complex.

You make a sound that’s neither yes or no, and his grip on you tightens. Still not enough to hurt you…but he could, and you feel that so very acutely in that moment. The fact of the matter is you didn’t consent to any of this, even if you are enjoying it. He wants your complacency, and you wonder if it has to do with conscience, or claiming his victory. 

The latter, you tell yourself. The minute you start to believe he has a heart will be the end of you. You have to keep reminding yourself of that. He does not love you, you stupid girl. He never has, and never will. 

“Well? Tell the truth.” 

“It’s better,” you answer simply, because you don’t have the capacity to tell him the rest out loud right now, and making him happy is the only way you will ever get a chance to escape him. You are going to have to be calculating, and ruthless, and neither of those things come easily to you. 

“That’s my good girl.”

It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear him say that, while he’s balls deep inside you. It shouldn’t make your treacherous cunt flutter upon his relentless cock like you mean to swallow him up, a velvety red orgasm building between your legs again. 

It’s not surrender, you tell yourself as the warm rush fills you, makes you feel like your bones are filled with glittering gold, your spine bowing so hard you fear it might crack. It’s just…a tactical play. You’ve been haunted by curiosity about this man since the moment you laid eyes on him. In the morning, you’ll make your next move. For now…you might as well enjoy it as best you can. 

The games have only just begun.   

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Caught My Attention

[Mean Girls 2004] Janis Ian x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.41k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Hints of homophobia/slurs, language (?).

[A/N]: None.

Enjoy!

 “Janis, calm down, for god’s sake. You’re gonna pace a literal trench into the ground,” Damian voiced from the kitchen table, chuckling at seeing how uncharacteristically nervous his best friend was. The ravenette jutted her chin over to face him with a scowl at his comment, though concern still riddled her features, creasing her brows as she scoffed. “How am I supposed to calm down? You know damn well how long I’ve liked this girl, and you know I’ve wanted to ask her out for years now. If this doesn’t go right, and she doesn’t feel the same way, I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Cady, who had no idea who the two were talking about, watched the scene before her as she stood behind the island in the kitchen, her nails tapping anxiously at her plastic cup that she hadn’t taken a sip from since Janis left her seat. “Well,” the redhead started with a stutter, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t known Damian or Janis for very long, but even she was visibly surprised at how worried the goth seemed to be. “Maybe you should just focus on the positive?” Before Janis could bite back with a snarky retort, Damian chimed in again to agree. “Yeah, that’s what a lot of the group has to do for theater. It’s supposed to help with the nerves or something.”

An annoyed groan slipped through Janis’s lips as she ran her hands down her face. “Look, I know I shouldn’t be overthinking things, but it’s hard not to, okay? She just…she means so much to me. I don’t wanna make things awkward between us and lose her as a friend. I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you,” she said, lifting her hand to wave it in Damian’s direction, “and I just can’t lose all of that because of some stupid crush.”

At that statement, Cady left her spot behind the counter, setting her cup to the side to step closer to Janis and place a gentle hand to her shoulder. She had no idea how to comfort other people–she was still getting used to it–but she had seen girls in the hallway at school do similar things when talking, so she figured it was worth a shot. “Hey, look, I don’t know this girl, but if she caught your eye and makes you happy, then I don’t think that’s stupid. Do you really think that?” A moment passed with Janis glancing between the girl beside her and the hand still on her shoulder.

She let out a small sigh after a while, a defeated look forming on her face. “No, I guess not, but still. What if–” “Don’t focus on what ifs, okay? That’s what’s making you so nervous right now.” Again, Janis seemed at war with herself, though more confused about Cady’s sudden comfort. She chuckled quietly and nudged the redhead’s hand from her shoulder. “Since when did you know how to comfort people like that?” Cady laughed at herself with a shrug. “Honestly? Most of it is from what I’ve seen from those weird teen romance movies people told me to watch.”

The two of them shared a smile before Janis turned away, thinking silently to herself. Before Damian or Cady could ask if she was alright, she turned back to them, a genuine grin finally painting her lips. “Okay, okay, I’ll try to stay positive. But I’ve never confessed to anyone before, so–as much as I hate to say it–I’m gonna need the two of you to help.”

Somewhere along the way, while multiple suggestions were being thrown out for Janis’s confession, someone in the trio mentioned asking her to the prom, which was right around the corner. Janis was hesitant, voicing her concern about people making fun of her and [Y/N] for being “gay in public” like they often did to her alone–thanks to Regina. It took a little convincing, but she ultimately agreed.

Although she agreed to go to the prom with [Y/N], if she accepted, she managed to persuade Damian and Cady into letting her confess and ask her privately to avoid everything being ruined by one of her bullies.

She hated cheesy romance, and she especially hated cliches, but she was willing to step outside of her comfort zone if it meant she could be with the girl she loved. Over the weekend, they threw together a messy plan. Damian brought [Y/N] to a seemingly random field after school one day, which made [Y/N] genuinely wonder if she had said her final goodbyes ahead of time. Janis, who had managed to get the day off from work after classes, was waiting there for her, which instantly eased her spiked nerves. She led her to a more remote location after Damian drove off. After a couple minutes of walking, Janis finally stepped to the side to reveal a small setup that was mainly put together by Cady.

Underneath a large oak tree rested a thin checkered blanket, topped with a basket packed full with pastries, drinks, and small sandwiches. To the side, a large sign was strung up between one of the branches of the tree and an adjacent metal rod that was once a tetherball pole. In large letters, decorated with doodles and drawings that were very clearly made by Janis, was the question she hadn’t even known she would ever ask.

Will you go to prom with me?

The two of them sat down after [Y/N]’s initial shock wore off. Janis began unpacking the woven basket to avoid eye contact as she asked what her answer was, hinting that she was wanting to take their relationship to the next level. [Y/N] chuckled at her, prompting her small amount of confidence to begin crumbling. “Janis, I’m gonna be honest, I already thought we were dating, so I thought going to the prom together was a given.”

Never in her life had Janis grinned so wide.

They spent the rest of the day together, ending it with Janis sketching [Y/N] still sitting beside her and talking about their plans for the dance before Damian finally pulled back up to drive the two of them home. [Y/N] was first to be dropped off, leaving Damian and Cady, who was invited in case the confession went either way, to bombard the goth with endless questions about how it went. Completely lovestruck and excited, Janis held no irritation or annoyance in her tone at the questions she would’ve usually greeted with venom.

Upon seeing his best friend so thrilled about the events that had happened only a couple of hours prior, Damian seemed far more excited about the two getting together than Janis did. He not-so-jokingly started planning what songs they should play at their wedding and what kind of suit Janis should wear. The ravenette brushed him off with a playful shake of her head and shove, though the smile never left her face. The rest of the ride to drop her and Cady off separately, all she could think about is what [Y/N] would look like in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle towards her--how she would look wearing a band she gave her. Then she got to thinking of prom.

What kind of dress would she wear then?

Shortly after the confession, Janis and [Y/N] started to hang out far more often than they already did. There was a small tension between them, both too awkward to know what to do, though it was far from unbearable. Whenever there would be a long, outstretched period of silence, they’d usually bring up random memories they had made together, unsure of what else to speak of.

Three days before prom, the two of them managed to find a random movie neither of them had seen before. They bundled up together in [Y/N]’s bed as they watched it, snacking on a large bowl of popcorn that was washed down with the soda they had bought when they met up. Halfway through the film, which struggled to keep their attention anyway, [Y/N] turned to her girlfriend and tapped her shoulder. Janis turned to her and hummed curiously.

“I’ve been thinking about what to wear for prom, but I really don’t know what I should. I mean, I’ve never gone to a school dance before, so…never had to shop for a dress for one, y’know?” The goth nodded at her. “Yeah, I know. I’ve never been to one either–not with someone else anyway. But I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some fancy-ass dress. Skirt? Maybe, but only if it’s long enough to cover my legs all the way. Don’t wanna be mistaken for the Plastics after all. By the way, have you noticed that Karen’s skirts are getting, like, half an inch shorter every single week?”

[Y/N] chuckled at her comment, making her smile without realizing it. “Hey, don’t speak too soon. Next thing you know, she’s gonna be walking around in bikini underwear.” Janis shrugged with a laugh of her own. “I don’t know, she kinda already is. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

They snickered at the remark. When she quieted down again, [Y/N] shuffled over to let her head rest on top of Janis’s shoulder, making the girl tense lightly and blush at the sudden contact. “But anyway, I was thinking. Now that I know that neither of us has ever really done this before, maybe we could try to surprise each other? Make it that much more memorable.” The goth hummed, finally letting her own head drop down to rest on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Not entirely sure if I’d be able to find something that would make me look as good as you will.” Playfully, [Y/N] let her hand gently smack Janis’s abdomen. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re beautiful–always have been.” Janis turned away shyly at that, her free arm coming up far enough to let her scratch the back of her neck. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” They argued back and forth for a bit about who’s prettier, and eventually stopped when they yawned. “I'm pretty sure I’m gonna crash, but don’t think this is over,” Janis teased, scooting up further on the bed to allow herself to lay her head down properly on her pillow. “It is. I win. You’re prettier,” [Y/N] replied, mirroring her motions.

They murmured to each other as they slowly fell asleep, still telling the other that they were prettier.

Days passed, and it was finally the day of the prom. Janis had chosen a suit in shades of black and purple, tying her hair up in a more formal fashion. She had planned on heading home before the prom to have time to get changed and steel her nerves, though she and Damian ended up sitting on one of the stairwells towards the main rear entrance to the school. The cool tile beneath them made Janis shiver and move to tuck her skirt further underneath her legs.

The two of them seemed to talk mindlessly about anything and everything. Neither of them realized what time it was until Damian finally looked up at one of the clocks hanging up towards the ceiling. “Oh shit,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch to confirm. Janis checked the clock as well, cursing under her breath as she moved to stand. A hand gripped her wrist firmly and tugged her back down. She looked over at her friend in confusion. “What the hell, man? I’ve gotta get back to my house to get changed.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I actually brought your suit here in my car because I knew we were gonna stay late.” Now completely puzzled, Janis tilted her head. “You knew? What the fuck is this?” Damian smirked. “Yeah, [Y/N] and I planned a surprise. I wanted you to see her ahead of time. Her dress?” He pinched his fingers together and pressed them to his lips, kissing the tips of them before pulling his hand away and spreading his fingers wide. “Incredible. You’re gonna love it.” “You mean you’ve already seen it?” “Yeah, but only by itself. I haven’t seen her wear it yet. I know you’re gonna be blown away though. It’s pretty simple, but it’s definitely your style.”

“And that’s how you know I’m gonna like it, huh?” Damian nodded and grinned pridefully, crossing his arms and glancing back up at the time. “Yep. And she should be here any minute now.”

As if on cue, [Y/N]’s form emerged from the nearest hallway. With how Janis was angled, she couldn’t see her yet, but Damian could. His smile widened at the sight of her. “Holy shit,” he mumbled. “Yeah, you’re definitely gonna love it.” He could already picture his best friend’s reaction before she had it.

With now spiked nerves, Janis slowly turned her head at the sound of footsteps. Her mouth hung slightly agape as more and more of her girlfriend came into view, a deep shade of crimson dusting her cheeks as she froze. As the two of them made eye contact, [Y/N] shyly pulled her arm from behind her back to wave. “Hey,” she managed to whisper. Slowly, Janis rose to her feet to be closer to eye-level. Her green eyes traveled down [Y/N]’s figure, admiring the dress. As Damian had said, it was a fairly simple design: a black lace dress with extra fringe on the hem, which draped down to end about an inch or two above her knees. To match, she wore black dress shoes with small heels built in, basic floral designs etched into the toes.

A small chuckle managed to snap Janis out of whatever trance she stayed in for what felt like forever. She didn’t glance over to look, but she knew that it was Damian once she felt an elbow gently nudge her arm. “Damn, Janis. I’ve never seen you speechless like this before,” he teased, snickering when the ravenette could only blink in response, her gaze never leaving [Y/N].

“Holy shit, you look…” She managed to step forward and gently take [Y/N]’s hands into her own, her eyes once again studying her outfit and figure. “You look amazing. That dress looks perfect on you.” Shyly, [Y/N] smiled wider and lowered her head to hide the growing shade of red across her face. “Oh, thanks. I tried to think of what you might like, and this was pretty much all I could find on such short notice. I’m glad you like it.”

As Janis struggled to wrack her brain for something else to say to break the silence, Damian slipped away to his car, snatching the goth’s suit from the backseat and bringing it back inside. When he found the two of them again, he gently poked Janis’s arm, smirking as he watched her struggle to tear her eyes away to glance over at him. “I don’t know if you plan on going in that outfit or not, but the dance is supposed to start in fifteen minutes, so I’d suggest you suit up.”

Finally, Janis managed to nod and properly turn away to grab ahold of the suit. She murmured a quick, “be right back,” to [Y/N] before dashing to the nearest restroom to get changed. She had to mentally scream at herself to slow down so she wouldn’t accidentally tear or wrinkle the freshly pressed suit. Before leaving to find the two again, she checked herself in the mirror, quickly readjusting her hair into the neater bun it had been in all day. Her hands slid down her blazer to smooth it out even further. She sucked in a quick breath, glanced at her appearance once more, and finally left.

She met [Y/N], now alone, in front of the entrance to the auditorium, which had barely been opened within the past few minutes. A handful of students and staff had already made their way inside and started fixing themselves cups of the provided punch that centered itself in a bowl on a large table towards the side.

Before stepping inside, Janis gently took [Y/N]’s hand into her own and tugged her aside. In a whisper, she finally asked what she had been stressing about the entire time. “Are you sure you’re okay being seen with me? I mean, being seen together like this? I can understand if you don’t wanna deal with people treating you like shit because of it.” A confused tilt of the head was her response at first. “What do you mean?”

Janis sighed and glanced down at the floor beneath her. “You know. Like how Regina told everyone I like girls and how people call me–” she sucked in a breath to stop herself. “Certain names.” [Y/N] gently squeezed her hand in a reassuring motion. “Oh, I don’t care about all that. They can all fuck themselves, honestly. It’s none of their business.” Janis blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sudden use of language. [Y/N] hardly cussed so easily. It was usually hilarious to her when she did, but this time it felt strangely comforting.

She grinned softly. “So you really aren’t afraid to do this with me?” [Y/N] returned her smile. “No, not at all. I’d be proud to be seen with you.” Janis’s heart fluttered, a feeling she had long forgotten until the recent months when she finally realized just how serious her feelings were for this girl.

“Yeah,” she murmured. Her hand shifted a bit to allow her to interlock her fingers with [Y/N]’s. She squeezed her hand softly against her own palm, finally making eye contact again, accompanied with a far more confident smirk.

“I’d be proud to be seen with you too.”

Just as the two of them had expected, there were several students who glanced at them with disapproving looks. It bothered Janis for a while when the dances began, but after [Y/N] managed to find a way to keep her attention on her, she was able to completely ignore her insecurities. A few fast-paced songs blared through the large speakers at the end of the room, leaving [Y/N] and Janis laughing as they struggled to keep up with the beat. Finally, the music began to slow, and Janis found herself pulling [Y/N] closer.

With her sheepishness left at the door, [Y/N] beamed up at the ravenette gleefully. She hummed and glanced down at the suit she was wearing. “I wasn’t able to say it earlier since we were trying to get in before everyone else, but you look so damn good in that suit,” she managed to say over the music. Even with its much slower pace, the song still reverberated loudly throughout the large room.

Janis couldn’t help but blush at the sudden bluntness of the compliment. She chuckled, glancing down for only a moment. “Thanks,” she mouthed, her suddenly shy tone too soft to be heard over the noise buzzing from the speakers the two of them had accidentally drifted too close to. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, wanting so desperately to free the outpour of compliments bubbling up in her throat. She finally gave up after realizing she wasn’t able to project loud enough in the moment, instead laughing and tugging [Y/N] even closer.

The two of them settled against each other as they swayed side to side. After glancing up at her to confirm that it was okay, [Y/N] gently lowered her head to rest against Janis’s shoulder, the tip of her nose barely grazing over the skin of the ravenette’s neck. A muffled shudder was her only response for a moment, though Janis’s head soon moved to lean against her own. The two closed their eyes just as Janis realized she could now speak audibly into [Y/N]’s ear. There, her lips parted to finally speak again.

“You know, I’m not one for surprises, but… I really am glad that we agreed to surprise each other tonight. You were right about it being more memorable.”

[Y/N] giggled and nodded. “Told you so.”

Janis playfully scoffed and rolled her eyes, though she still moved to press her lips gently against the girl’s temple. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

[lady-margaret]

bridgerton season 3 part 1 opinion (as someone who has read all the books + is kathony biased so be warned)

after sitting and stewing on what i just watched for a few hours

i’d like to start this off by saying that due to my disappointment of the writing from the last season, i was way more gracious with this one. kate and anthony were great because of simone and jonathan; i’m not sure the writers had much to do with that.

anyway, what i’m saying is that i already knew not to expect the writers to be faithful to the source material (romancing mr. bridgerton), so i was able to enjoy myself more. additionally, polin’s book isn’t exactly a favorite of mine anyway, so there wasn’t a lot to be too disappointed with in my case.

what i liked:

penelope’s wardrobe; they hyped up the “transformation” so much and i’m glad it did not disappoint.

colin’s hot 😌

eloise’ wardrobe; someone pointed out that it had a lot of philip references, so yay 😀 (it has me worried that it’ll be her story next though, we need ben first)

eloise interacting with the other ladies of the ton was really cute and refreshing; she’s learning that despite them having different interests than her, they are still people of great value. the difference is eloise was raised in a loving and supportive family, unlike most of the others.

sibling’s g&h’s personalities coming through more (they are anthony’s children, truly).

featherington sisters as comic relief.

MARRIED KATHONY CRUMBS 💕💕💕 they carried episode 1 for me.

FRANCESCA 💕💕💕 gorgeous introvert representation.

FRANNY AND JOHN 💕💕💕 (i am both ready and NOT ready to get hurt 🥹)

book references (yay! the bare minimum!)

lord debling’s dope.

i actually do like that they gave cressida a legitimate reason to want to win the competition money to unmask LW in the second part.

the music choices haven’t disappointed yet!!!!!

colin’s line for the season is def the “well are you gonna marry me or not?” line HEHEHEHEHE i ALMOST screamed as loud as i did when john entered when he said that line to pen.

as an army, plus points for dynamite 🤭 i didn’t expect to like the orchestral version and didn’t see the vision of where they would even insert it, but i actually liveddd for it.

what i don’t really have strong feelings about:

mondrich plot; alice is beautiful but the addition of their family storyline didn’t make much of a lasting impact.

the queen; she was very meh so far.

the featherington storyline: the sisters are funny, but their whole situation mixed with the humor leads me not to take it very seriously.

violet x lady danbury’s brother: 🤷‍♀️ i don’t see it.

the “lady danbury’s brother” storyline in general is very forgettable.

what i disliked:

i think nicola and luke could use more chemistry; they fall short compared to daphne&simon and kathony (HEAVY ON KATHONY THIS IS WHY THEY REMOVED THEM FROM THE REST OF THE EPISODES SIGH)

they kinda mischaracterized colin (he spent the last two seasons being selfish and putting himself above everyone else violet, what the hell are you talking about “you never place yourself over others” 🤨)

the lack of ben time?? did he go back to the academy after taking over for anthony briefly??? what did he do besides dodging debutantes all season????

they glossed over benedict running the estate so quickly; this could have been an opportunity to draw out his storyline, especially since he mentioned that he liked having a purpose: WRITERS???? DO SOMETHING WITH THAT!

i also didn’t really care for the ben x tilly arnold plot; unless sophie’s actually a maid of her’s or something, i don’t see her point in the show besides just be another one of ben’s ever changing girl of the season.

im sorry but eloise would never SHOULD NEVER have befriended her (ex?) best friend’s bully, no matter what the circumstances. that is NOT eloise.

honestly, them revealing whistledown in the first season is really screwing with the writing; in this regard, i wish they stayed more faithful to the book and how colin finds out about LW. it all just seems so messy at this point.

so s3 starts when kathony end their honeymoon… how long was this honeymoon? math isn’t mathing cuz it couldn’t have been more than a week given that kate isn’t obviously pregnant yet in the first ep.

i know that colin and pen are longtime friends, but from how they’ve interacted with each other in the past seasons, it’s a bit harder to believe that they were close CLOSE friends; close friends to the extent of helping the other find a spouse through “lessons”? i don’t see it. that’s why i was a bit ??? when i first found out about the plot they were going with for the season (in the book, colin really just starts following her around cuz she was being sus)

i hate that they had to come up with an excuse to get rid of kathony for the rest of the episodes; i get that they’ve been running their separate households alone for most of their lives and want a break but… i don’t think they would abandon their responsibilities for an “extended honeymoon”. knowing them, running the estate isn’t gonna stop them from being wh0res!! they help each other out with the estate and are still sickeningly in love and have time for each other (in the books). i was also really hoping to see kate taking over the viscountess role. i swore they would have done something like that after that cute/awkward moment when they both respond to “lady bridgerton” in episode 1.

i get that it’s established that penelope’s one goal for the season is to get a husband, but as i know her character, she would NEVER get into races (?) or run just so she can talk to a suitor before anyone else does 😭 okay but it was funny.

i am kinda sad that they couldn’t have just let a mean character or a villain character be the villain character; yea sure, i did say that i liked that cressida had a legitimate and well thought out motive for wanting the LW reward money but, idk i could’ve lived without her storyline.

one of the BIGGEST THINGS for me is that i do not think they should have released so many clips/snippets of the show days or weeks before it came out. i understand like 1 clip, but i skipped SO MANY SCENES because i have watched them at least 5 times already on tiktok or twitter.

the two part season idea is dumb.

i’m scared for how messy part 2 will be (in terms of both writing and just how stressed i will be with the revealing of LW plot HUHU poor pen) but i’m still looking forward to it 😇😇😇 and despite all the things i didn’t like, i did still enjoy it. if i do rewatch it or not is still to be decided; s1 & s2 have such high rewatch value.

franny and john were TRULY a standout though. i cannot even begin to describe how loud i screamed when he finally said his name out loud 😭💕

verdict: the writing is getting messier, get jonathan bailey in that writer’s room ASAP

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

Okay, so as I was talking to Evie about the other day, I was going through one of my old notebooks and found a whole extended universe of Descendants OCs I had planned from middle school. I obviously don’t plan on formally introducing or doing anything with all of these OCs, because there is a lot of them, but I still thought it would be fun to share them with you guys! They’re not all in their original versions from my notebook, because a few of them did require a little changing and revamping, but I still hope you guys enjoy these little ideas from twelve-year-old me’s brain.

Soha Pride, daughter of Simba and Nala, Carlos ship. Able to attend Auradon Prep thanks to a spell from Fairy Godmother that allows her entire family to shift between their lion and human forms. Very dedicated to her duties as a princess of Pride Rock, but sometimes feels overshadowed by her older sister Kiara because she’s the oldest and the heir. Doesn’t believe any of the stuff Audrey and Chad say about the VKs and makes it her mission to be friends with them. Formerly a Jay ship. I am going to be introducing her formally in a little bit, so look out for that!

Josie Sparrow, daughter of Jack Sparrow, Evie ship. Auradon kid because it could never be decided whether Jack was a villain or not, and now he sails all around the seas surrounding Auradon and the different kingdoms. Has the ability to visit the Isle in her dreams, and it’s later revealed that that’s because her mother is Calypso. A huge troublemaker and prankster who’s constantly in trouble with Fairy Godmother, and becomes quick besties with Mal because of it when the VKs first come to Auradon.

Jackson Kelly-Jacobs, son of Jack Kelly and David Jacobs, OC ship. Son of Jack and Davey because I am a Javid shipper for life. A dancer and gymnast who’s on the R.O.A.R. team, and used to be friends with Chad before he turned into a bully. Really flirty and charming like his dad Jack, but still a total sweetheart. He and Evie quickly develop a WLW/MLM friendship when the VKs come to Auradon, and he definitely punches Chad during the Family Day thing.

Steven Smee, son of Mr. Smee, OC ship (Jackson’s boyfriend). Comes to Auradon with the VKs even though he’s not friends with them after Ben lets his dad persuade him to invite the child of a sidekick along with the children of villains so the people of Auradon are a bit “more receptive”. A complete shy sweetheart who loves his dad and brothers and misses them terribly when he leaves (because Smee is actually a really good dad) and is the reason the twins get to come to Auradon in the third movie. Kind of sensitive because he got bullied a lot as a kid on the Isle, but still has an inner strength that not a lot of people expect.

Maile Montunui, daughter of Moana, Uma ship. President and pretty much only member of the Auradon Prep Sailing Club, which the Sea Three join after they come to Auradon in the alternate post-second movie story that I had in my head. Incredibly courageous and not afraid to speak her mind, but sometimes gets herself into trouble from being too confident. Frequently curses and insults people in Samoan. Bisexual disaster who falls in love with Uma instantly, even if it takes Uma a while to feel the same about her.

Haven Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts, Harry ship. Member of the VKs who had a sort of Romeo and Juliet romance going on with Harry, but has to break it off when they leave to go to Auradon. She wants desperately to be good and break away from her mother’s reputation, and dedicates herself to being better once the VKs choose good at the coronation, which causes some tension between her and Harry when they meet again in the second movie. In the alternate post-second movie story after the Sea Three come to Auradon, though, they reconcile and get back together. She’s fierce and sarcastic by nature but not mean, and she shares Mal’s love for graffiti.

Cierra Chernabog, daughter of Chernabog, Ben ship. Outcast even on the Isle because her father is a demon, doesn’t come to Auradon until after the second movie because so many people were against bringing Chernabog’s kid to Auradon the first time. Super shy and doesn’t talk a whole lot, but incredibly smart and loving. Has a demon form that she isn’t able to access until leaving the Isle, but it’s big and terrifying and still kind of cool.

Celeste Frollo, daughter of Judge Frollo, Audrey ship. Claudette’s twin sister, very religious and God-fearing due to her father’s teaching, so she has a lot of Catholic guilt over liking girls (picture, like, Carrie White with no telekinesis and if she was a lesbian). Gets to go to Auradon after the second movie, when Audrey’s slowly starting to reform herself and be more accepting of villain kids (we’re pretending the third movie doesn’t happen, I guess), and at the same time my girl slowly starts to overcome her guilt and they fall in love!

And there are even more, but I’m gonna stop there (😅). Hope you guys enjoyed this little look into my crazy little middle schooler brain!!

Tagging some of the Descendants moots: @ginger-grimm, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @auxiliarydetective, and soft tagging @manyfandomocs!!

[ryuichirou]

Hello there! Firstly I’d like to say I absolutely love your art (I too am a big fan of people toying with Idia) and I admire your confidence in being yourself Once I realized you view Ortho as a top I became curious how exactly you viewed Ortho in an Ortho/Idia sense and what contexts you see them happening in. I personally see the two of them as not human and demigods to an extent so them being together is just copying their ancestors (lol)

I was also wondering what you thought of Riddle/Idia and/or Ortho/Vil

Sorry if this is too many questions or not super clear! Thank you for your time regardless though!

Anooon, thank you so much for your kind words! <3 Honestly, it’s super cool to get support for just posting whatever we want, so it means a lot. Let’s keep enjoying toying with Idia 😔💕

I am happy you are curious about our views on Ortho/Idia! To us, realizing that Ortho could be read as a top made the ship like platinum level gorgeous lol

One of the best things about these two is just how much possible scenarios and variations there are to them. Like you said, we could easily consider them demigods and give a nod to the way their ancestors didn’t really have a problem being quite close to each other lol it’s a wonderful idea and reading of these two, that makes sense and is fun to explore. Maybe there could be a theme of disconnect between what is considered taboo for other people but is pretty acceptable for the Shrouds.

We however don’t usually think about them potentially being demigods, even though, like I said, there are multiple ways for us to ship them. We really love the romance between the AI Ortho and Idia. I’ve mentioned it in this post: we just really really enjoy the trope of the AI that falls in love/becomes obsessed with a person it serves. Ortho is so focused on making Idia happy and so stubborn about it that he gives us a nice mix of almost aggressive care and super strong loyalty. And on the other hand, we have Idia who feels infinite guilt about every single thing regarding Ortho, but getting surprised every day by just how much his creation pushes through the limitations of his original code and becomes more and more independent, but still loyal and obsessively loving.

Another possible scenario would involve the original Ortho (in the AU where he is alive, for example) and Idia, and they would still have a similar dynamic. We love the idea of human!Ortho being the charismatic and extroverted one out of the two, so he’d make friends quite easily, but at the same time still be as protective and possessive of Idia as the AI Ortho. Idia, of course, would try his best to “let Ortho go” and let him live his best extraverted life with all of his friends, even though the idea of being separated from Ortho makes him super sad. But Ortho would never let go of his beloved brother, because these two are kind of separate from the rest of the world. All they have is each other, they’ve been together for so long and their bond is super strong. In a way, this is similar to the demigods scenario I guess.

So, something among those lines. TLDR; Ortho attacks Idia with his love and affection, Idia is shocked by how much he is loved but ultimately is very happy and grateful for it. And Ortho bullies Idia with his love lol

Also, here is a post of some OruIde headcanons we posted a while ago! In case you haven’t read it and are interested in it.

We don’t really ship Riddle and Idia, since we see both of them as bottoms, although their interactions could be amusing. I really love it when they argue lol

And Ortho/Vil is a quite an intriguing one! Vil clearly has a soft spot for Ortho, he used to have it even before Ch6, but afterwards he pretty much adopted him lol I really really enjoy their interactions and how much Vil plays into Ortho’s playfulness, and also how much Ortho admires Vil. With these two having a common ground that is movies, watching them is especially fun. But when it comes to shipping them romantically, we’re at the “hmmm 👀 “ stage for now: we’re looking, we’re clearly not opposed to it, we’ll see how it goes. Ortho deserves all the smooches from Vil, that’s for sure.

(I even have a sketch about this…)

Also we’re really really looking forward to their club cards… film research club let’s gooo 😭

[skye-huntress]

I’m in Love with the Villainess Reaction

I am a little behind on actually writing these reactions, however I have been watching these episodes multiple times since they aired. This series is a favourite of mine, and I have read the novels and keep up to date with the manga. As you can imagine, I’m thrilled to see this anime, especially with a same day English dub, though the lack of text translations is still annoying. I’m curious to see how far along they get. It’d be great to see to the end of the second novel, that’d tell at least a somewhat complete story, but depending on the pacing, we’d probably need two cours for that.

Episode 1

Spent the first 30 seconds explaining the basic premise of the whole show, and zero ambiguity as to the protagonist’s sexuality or love interest.

The exact nature of what happened to Rae, and why, isn’t explained until much, much later, and it’s irrelevant to current plot, so don’t worry about it too much. All you need to know is that Rae reincarnated, and gained memories of her past life from the supposed starting point of her game, i.e. when she met Claire for the first time.

As for the whole age thing, again, it’s best not to overthink it. Personally, I find it easy to forget that Rae has memories of being an adult since she rarely acts like it. Physically, she is a teenager again, from her brain to her hormones, so it’s no wonder that 99% of the time she acts like her physical age instead of her mental one.

In many romances, the protagonists may often go most of the length of the story without revealing their feelings to those they are in love with. Rae is not one of those protagonists.

So yes, the bullying. For a supposed villainess, Claire’s bullying tactics are relatively underwhelming. Not surprised I saw someone questioned what makes her a “villainess”, but this is just the start of the story.

As for Rae, I wouldn’t say she is a masochist, more that she enjoys receiving the attention from Claire specifically. It certainly helps she knows all of Claire’s motivations and self-imposed restrictions. Plus, so long as she makes sure Claire hates her, she won’t ignore her.

One last thing I wanted to note, it’s never explicitly stated, but I’ve always suspected that part of the reason Rae responds to Claire’s “bullying” with more teasing is also a cover for Claire’s intended actions. Outsiders don’t see a bully and a victim, they see two seemingly close classmates playing some kind of weird game.

When I first read the manga, it was the first time I’d seen the flower thing and it was a long time before I learned what that was supposed to be. Apparently, it’s from a practice of placing flowers on the desk of students whom have passed away. It’s also a way of bullying the living. Probably the most inappropriate, disgraceful thing Claire does in this entire series, but naturally, Rae found a way to spin it into a gesture of kindness.

“Strange that you’d think I’d have anything to say to you.” Continues to talk to her because we all know she can’t help herself.

Ah yes, the boys still exist, even though no one is interested.

When Rae said they should go apologise to Thane, I think that was the first time she dropped the class clown act in front of Claire. Most of the time, she does these kind of silly voices, but then she’ll speak normally when she’s being completely sincere.

Valid question, why are there tests at the start of the school year? It seems especially mean to the commoners transferring in who aren’t familiar with most of the material.

According to the novel, Claire would often give these challenges to the protagonist, but despite the high stakes, the player doesn’t get anything for overcoming said challenges. Well, now Rae can set her own terms and actually make it worth her time.

“Are you trying to provoke me, Rae Taylor?” You should know, she’s throwing your own words right back at you.

“The funny thing is, I know you’re playing me…”

The fact that commoners have to take the etiquette exam with only a week of prep is just so wrong.

Rae really lost points for being a useless lesbian.

In the manga, they gave Claire an “Ultra High” (Exceptional) affinity for fire, but that might have just been a mistake, since both the novels and now the anime state her aptitude is only High. From what I can tell, it just means that she can’t use the highest tier of fire spells, but she’s still far more powerful than most magic users.

Since the dub didn’t come with text translations I can’t really read the test results, but I can easily look them up in the manga or novels.

Thane was in a bad mood before because he apparently “didn’t do so well” on the written test, yet he still ended up in the top ten. If you’re not comparing him to his siblings, his score is pretty damn good.

Rae claims to know the game better than the people who made it, and yet she still got two questions wrong. Thinking about it now, this could potentially be an early warning sign that Rae’s knowledge might be lacking in some aspects, or maybe she just made a careless mistake or two. Either explanation is possible.

As for the etiquette exam, for all Claire’s gloating, Rae still placed considerably high for a commoner without any etiquette training. She might have even beaten some lower ranked nobles with a score like that.

You can tell that Rae’s not worried at all when her only thoughts are on Claire’s cuteness.

Then there’s Misha, who should be out of practice but still placed 8th. Probably because she is such a reserved and collected person.

Finally the magic test, the only one Thane beats his siblings on, though only by a small margin.

Misha gets a nearly perfect score, which I think is partly thanks to having an Exceptional affinity.

Claire also placed exceptionally high. Not so many nobles are so blessed with magic, hence the transfers like Misha and Rae. Her high scores in each exam should have guaranteed her the win after Rae’s lacking performance on the second test, but well…

Then there’s Rae who basically broke the magic exam and came in first even despite intentionally flubbing the magic tools portion. Yep, this challenge really was rigged from the start, but it wasn’t in Claire’s favour like she thought it would be.

And that’s where we end it for the first episode.

[lovevalley45]

first day jitters

a/n: i was puttering around in my docs and found this WIP that i doubt i will ever finish. i wrote this last june and haven't touched it since. however, i am very fond of the idea and these two scenes, so i'm putting it out into the world. it's behrastra, private school au, inspired by a different fic i tried writing years ago. enjoy!

The start of the school year was always something Astra looked forward to. She wasn’t the nerdy type, even if she devoted a good part of her time to her studies. No, she liked that here at Hunter Academy, she was pretty much on top. Yes, she was only a junior, but among her class people knew to keep their place. 

There was technically another week until class started, but where the freshmen were stuck in orientation, the upperclassmen had plenty of time to do their catching up. Astra didn’t mind the extra week away from Lachesis and to get a headstart. 

She’d only arrived that afternoon and was already unpacking as she talked on the phone with her two long-distance besties. Although it was morning for Gideon, it was evening for Spooner. 

“You’re lucky you get another week,” the latter was saying. “I should’ve stowed away when you left Texas.”

Astra smiled. “The kids here aren’t any better, they just have money to justify their shittiness,” she told her. 

“And I doubt customs would have been too happy to discover a human being hidden in my suitcases,” Gideon added. 

“I think it’d take more than a couple of bullies to get you out of Texas,” Astra said. 

Spooner sighed. “Yeah, right. You can have New York and London to yourselves.”

As she hung up her last blazer in the closet, she asked, “So, Gideon, how’s it feel to have one year to go before you’re free from the burdens of secondary school?”

“It’s rather nice. Though there’s still all the tests and deciding which uni to go to,” she answered. 

“At least we’re free from that,” Spooner commented.

“For now,” Astra said. 

“Speaking of, I need to actually go to class,” Gideon said. “I’ll text. Oh, Astra, tell Gary I say hi.”

“Can’t you text him that?” Astra asked. 

She made a non-committal noise.

“Fine. Bye.”

“Bye,” Spooner added. 

“Sweet dreams!” With that, Gideon left the call, leaving the two of them alone. 

“It’s a little early for sweet dreams, isn’t it?” Spooner asked after a moment of silence.

“Time zones are tough,” Astra said. 

With perfect timing, she heard muffled shouting from her end. “Dinner’s ready. Call you after I get done with school tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I gotta pass on a message to Gary.”

“Ugh. Makes me kinda glad I don’t do the romance thing. Bye.”

The call ended, and Astra unplugged her headphones. Her roommate Nora was absorbed in her book, earbuds in to block out most of the conversation. Well, she wouldn’t notice if she was gone anyways. 

She thought Spooner had somewhat of a point, but she couldn’t entirely agree. After all, what better time than high school for a harmless fling?

--

After barely a day at Hunter Academy, Behrad was already over it. 

If it hadn’t been for his sister, he would still be in LA at his old high school with his friends. But recasting him was apparently so much easier if he wasn’t around. Even if that meant shipping him to the other side of the country. 

Although his mom had offered to come with him to help him unpack, he’d turned her down with a slightly heavy heart. If people didn’t recognize him, they’d surely recognize her. And the last thing he needed was the cameras following him to where he was trying to get his break, as unintentional as it was. 

For as talkative as his roommate, Gary, was, it hadn’t occurred to him that he was a Tarazi as in Keeping Up With the Tarazis. He doubted it was the same for the rest of campus. That had still kept him back in his old pattern of hiding out in his room, except this time he had company. 

But just as he’d been resigned to this fate, there was a knock at the door, followed by a female voice saying, “Gary, I’m coming in.”

Behrad didn’t so much as hide as he slouched even more than usual behind his laptop when the door opened. Gary, who had been unpacking his monotonous uniforms, barely looked surprised. 

The tall girl who walked in was another student, and possibly the prettiest girl he’d seen on campus that day. Which was certainly saying something, given a good portion of the kids here had models for parents. Her brown curly hair fell past her shoulders and over her dark green tanktop, and even from across the room he could see the freckles dotting her face. 

“Hey, Astra,” he said. “What’s up?” 

“Gideon told me she says hi,” Astra told him. 

“Aw,” Gary gave a dopey grin. “Wait, why did she tell you to tell me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Gary.” She glanced over and locked her beautiful, dark brown eyes on him. 

“Oh, that’s Behrad,” he said, turning back to where he was sitting. “He’s new.”

“I know,” she said. 

For a moment, his blood ran cold. Shit, was this girl going to be the one to expose him?

Behrad moved his laptop aside and walked over to her, holding out a hand. “Hey.”

She didn’t take it, but he could feel her sizing him up. “Hi.”

“You know, I was gonna give him the grand tour myself tomorrow, but since you’re kinda the unofficial representative for our class, you’re probably better equipped,” Gary said, getting up close to them.

He thought she was going to turn her nose up at the request. And as expected, Astra rolled her eyes, but she said, “Fine. Unless Behrad has anything to say about it.”

“Nope. Sounds all good to me,” he said, trying not to go over all the ways it could go wrong. 

“Okay. 11 AM, be ready.” She started to walk towards the door. “Oh, and welcome.”

As soon as she left, Gary let out a breath. “Oh, God.”

“What?” Behrad asked. 

“I tried to do you a solid there, but be warned, Astra is not one you mess around with. And you don’t look like the fuckboy type, but she does not play,” he told him. 

“I mean, she can’t be that bad,” he said, mostly trying to reassure himself more than anything. 

“When I started dating her best friend, she once threatened to rip my dick off,” Gary whispered. “That was because she caught us making out between classes, but point still stands.”

“Dude. That’s a lot of pressure for a school tour,” Behrad said. 

“I just want you to know what you’re getting into. I know that look.”

He supposed it was a good point. One of the good things about going to a new school was knowing he wouldn’t have to deal with his ex Derrick anymore. He always had a thing for the heartbreakers, as Zari told him in their rare moments of sibling bonding. 

“I’ll just be careful,” he told him. And after all the memes and mean comments, Behrad had learned to keep a good wall around his heart. He’d play it safe this time. 

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

Rating: 0 out of 5

Content Warning: Ableism, Child death, Death, Death of parent, Alcoholism, Cursing, Bullying, Suicidal thoughts, Torture

Summary:

The first book in Alyson Noël's extraordinary new Immortals series. Enter an enchanting new world, where true love never dies...

After a horrible accident claims the lives of her family, sixteen-year-old Ever Bloom can see people's auras, hear their thoughts, and know someone's entire life story by touching them. Going out of her way to avoid human contact to suppress her abilities, she has been branded a freak at her new high school—but everything changes when she meets Damen Auguste.

Damen is gorgeous, exotic and wealthy. He's the only one who can silence the noise and random energy in her head—wielding a magic so intense, it's as though he can peer straight into her soul. As Ever is drawn deeper into his enticing world of secrets and mystery, she's left with more questions than answers. And she has no idea just who he really is—or what he is. The only thing she knows to be true is that she's falling deeply and helplessly in love with him.

*Opinions*

TL;DR - The villain should have killed both main characters and put us all out of our misery

Hello friends and enemies, we are gathered here today to talk about a book that I did not enjoy and probably has the most annoying characters I have read to date. The plot was nonsense, the characters were annoying, and somehow a book that was just over 300 pages was about 300 pages too long. The fact that there are six books in this series is truly baffling to me as I don’t understand how anyone cared about these characters enough to get through this novel let alone five more. My completeist brain is truly thrilled that I cannot easily find the rest to read for free anywhere so I can drop this book in a free little library and never have to think about it again.

I do want to provide one positive before I get into everything else I didn’t like about this novel. I appreciated the portrayal of Sabine and how kind she is to Ever, who is consistently a horrible person to her and everyone else. Sabine lost her twin brother, dropped everything, and moved so that she could take care of her niece who is now her ward. Sabine is nothing but patient and kind to Ever, a teenager who is constantly not talking to her, being mean, or getting expelled from school. Sabine is the true hero of this book for not smacking Ever into next week on a couple of occasions. I too would be working all the time if I had to live with Ever constantly being cagy, lying, and straight up ignoring her. Ava is also kind to Ever when she has no reason to be, so the adult women in this novel, for the small amount are present, have the patience of saints.

Ever is one of the most annoying main characters that I have ever had the displeasure of being in the head of. She is so self-centered and not in an “I am a teenager who is going through some horrible and confusing things” but in an “I care about no one and nothing but myself and I never let anyone complete a thought because I don’t want to hear it, even though I am psychic and read minds.” She is a horrible friend, an extremely clingy and toxic girlfriend, and almost too dumb to live. Ever doesn’t figure out anything that is happening on her own, she doesn’t do a single thing herself throughout this novel except breaking into her boyfriend’s house because…she’s mad he left after spending almost two whole days with her. She says that she doesn’t want her ghost little sister to cross over, yet is absolutely horrible to her every time she is present, is a shitty friend, and is just an overall bad person. When people do try to explain things to Ever, she gets pissed off and tells them to go away or says horrible things, but then is confused why people aren’t talking or lying to her.

The sad thing is that this could have been a powerful story about grief and dealing with the loss of family, but Ever never thinks about her parents except how she can’t see them, and only thinks about what her sister lost when it is convenient for her. She states constantly that her psychic powers are because she is being punished for the accident, but once Daimen is on the scene, she barely thinks about the family she lost or the life she no longer has. Instead of making Ever a complex character who is managing huge life changes and loss, she seems like a self-absorbed narcissist who is only upset that her parents are dead because the accident changed her from the most popular cheerleader into a “freak”. It is all so shallow that I have no sympathy for her. Then her two-day descent into alcoholism? I can’t even get into that.

Daimen is the king of gaslighting and every time he did something that was supposed to be romantic I rolled my eyes so hard I almost strained something. Daimen, a six hundred-year-old man, is obsessed with a seventeen-year-old. Usually, these types of age gaps don’t bother me in high fantasy novels, but in an urban fantasy in which Daimen is constantly dropping hints that he is so much more knowledgeable and sophisticated than Ever, it just felt weird. Sometimes I heard the start of the SVU theme song. He is also constantly using his type of magic in front of her and then denying that he is, making her feel as if she is losing her mind. A mind that he can read at times and knows how distressed he is making her, yet instead of trying to find a way to explain he continues to play mind games. He apparently loves her so much that he has searched for her in multiple lifetimes, but he also somehow never figures out that it is Darina who continually kills her. Even though Darina shows up every time she dies they get back together. This is a man who supposedly discovered the truth about immortality and he can’t see the two plus two make four? However, I completely lost it when Ever was upset and crying and his response, get on top of her and start trying to sleep with her. I hate him.

Let’s also take a little detour and talk about the fact that Darina made a point of telling Ever that she died a virgin in every lifetime she has had since meeting Daimen. Now, I have no intention of reading on in this series unless someone pays me money, but I can predict that when Ever and Daimen actually do sleep together there is going to be a whole thing of being her one and only partner, her first and only love, she is happy she saved her soul for him, etc. and I would have to throw up before continuing.

Darina is the most cardboard-cut-out villain I might have ever read. She is the stunningly beautiful woman that Daimen is with that gives off creepy vibes. That is the only reason why Ever hates her to begin with. Then she gets close to Haven for the sole purpose of killing her to upset Ever and make her feel like she is alone so she’ll just die when Darina finally decides to attack her all because she is in love with Daimen for some reason. Darina, who proves at the end of the book that she could have killed Ever at any moment, but just decides to play games because…plot? Then, after 600 years, she is easily confused and killed without much of a fight. While I wanted her to succeed because I hated Daimen and Ever and wanted them to stop existing, she didn’t have enough of a personality to really care about her one way or another.

Ever’s “friends”, and I use the word loosely, are stereotypes and also kind of the worst people. Miles is the less offensive of the two, he is just obsessed with his boyfriends to the point that he ignores his friends, but he at least says something when both Ever and Haven are being the worst. Haven, however, fucking sucks. Everything had to be about her and she called ‘dibs’ on a man and gets pissed when he isn’t interested in her but her friend. Remember, these people are Juniors in high school, and they are calling dibs on a real-life person. The whole bit where she joins anonymous groups and lies about having addictions or other problems because she is ignored at home is just wrong on so many levels. Then, Haven goes missing for days after another woman is murdered, and Ever is so self-obsessed she doesn’t even care, but is so extremely happy when she reappears alive. This whole town should have just been crushed by a meteor.

A major part of the plot, in which there almost isn’t any mind you, is that Ever feels as if she needs to punish herself because she believes that it is her fault that her family got into a car accident that killed them. There is this whole thread about how she has to forgive herself for the accident and thinking that she caused it, with multiple other characters explicitly saying this to her. In the final scene of the novel Daimen states that love heals and she finally forgave herself so the scar on her forehead is gone. Except, Ever never forgave herself because she found out that Darina caused the accident for the sole purpose of killing Ever. It was all just so frustrating. Ever doesn’t figure out anything on her own, Darina tells her in her evil monologue. Yet we are supposed to get this whole takeaway about love and forgiveness after Ever turns Darina to dust by accident. When Daimen started explaining that Ever hit Darina in her weakest chakra and that’s why she died I would have put down the book if I wasn’t so close to the end. Please, give me a fucking break. There had not been a single mention of chakras before this scene, not one. Also, the only other plot point besides Ever hating herself was figuring out why Daimen was acting so weird, that’s it.

I could go on for another five pages of everything I hated about this, but it would just make me angry. I would give this zero stars if that was a possibility. Save yourself the time and money and read literally anything else.

[coffeeorsomething-irl]

@dailydragon08 I'm sorry you're in a bad spot rn. I'm afraid I'm not equal to the task of writing something right now, but I have something already written I can share. It doesn't fit the situation exactly, but it features a heavily insecure protagonist being tormented by a bully and Luke steps in to help and spends some amount of time reassuring her. It's a chapter from a Luke x OC fic I'm writing, so there is some missing context. Umm and heads up it's kinda long. I hope it can give you a pick-me-up.

(the format came out a little weird due to my cut-and-paste, also sorry if my attempt at a 'read more' thingy didn't work 😅)

Her stomach fluttered when she caught sight of him, then fell as she took in his companion. Olandria. She considered just leaving, at least until later; after all Olandria couldn’t be by his side all night, could she? …Well, on second thought, she probably could, if she wanted to. And which courtier wouldn’t want to hang on the arm, or the word, of the heroic blue-eyed gallant from the stars? 

But just as she was turning away, she heard his voice calling her, “Highness!” 

She froze, feeling a bit caught, then hesitantly turned back. 

He had approached, Olandria beside him with a subtle sneer. She was not actually on his arm; he had not made it available. He didn’t notice her expression, as his eyes were fixed onto Ciri. “Highness, I wasn't certain I would see you this evening. What fortuity we enjoy, that you’ve graced us with your presence.” The formality of his words made her gulp. He was good at this… the polite posturing of politics. “Don’t you agree, lady Olandria?” he asked, turning to his companion, who smoothly schooled her expression.

“Indeed… fortuity,” she agreed blandly, on cue. 

Luke returned his attention to her. “How do you find the soiree?” he inquired of her. 

“It’s… nice enough,” she commented weakly. She had no stomach for events, though the pomp was pretty. 

“I suspected it might not please my lady,” he responded with a smile, “so I am grateful to find you in attendance. But perhaps there is something here you may enjoy? Do you dance, Highness?” 

“Certainly not,” she said quickly, and a little too forcefully. His face quirked. 

“That is well, if my lady’s wishes are against it. Please accept my apology… I did not intend to offend,” he offered. 

“I-it’s fine, L- uh, sir. I didn’t mean to speak so abruptly.” 

He smiled kindly. “Please, say nothing of it.” 

“I dance,” Olandria cut in, “if sir would like to. There is no need to refrain because her Highness does not enjoy it.” 

The smile Luke turned upon her was rather different from the one Ciri had become so used to seeing offered her. “Forgive me, lady Olandria, if I must refuse. I would not feel right, leaving my lady to her devices when her nature renders her less suited to this affair than we. But please, do not let me dissuade you from seeking a partner.” He gestured generally at the crowd. 

Olandria was skilled at keeping her feelings from her face. The porcelain mask showed nothing of disappointment as she smilingly accepted the rejection. “Perhaps in a moment, sir. I would while with you and our lady yet.”

They talked of little things, and of the court. He described something of the war, at Olandria’s encouragement and to her obvious titillation. It was strange, seeing him this way, after how he’d been with her when they were alone. She could not relax, with Olandria by his side, and him addressing her so formally. She had not been caught in a conversation with the woman in some time. It was terribly awkward, but anytime she faltered Luke would favor her with that same, sweet smile, smoothly elide her misstep, and pick up the words’ thread, and she would feel reassured. 

Eventually the discussion meandered to romance, under Olandria’s prodding. “Does my lord have a family awaiting his return?” 

“I do not… beyond my sister, who no doubt awaits me, but who is also the cause of my departure from her. Have you, lady Olandria? A family, that is.” 

An image of perfectly poised regret came onto her face. “I have not the time. At least, not as yet.” Her expression brightened. “But I am not yet through with dalliance… there is much good to be had, by making capital on one’s favorable opportunities, I have found. And yourself? I imagine more… temporary entanglements must suit a lifestyle such as yours. Darting from one kingly court to the next, with nary a one to call berth. Besides that one to which you rarely may return, where your exalted sibling awaits.” 

For the first time, a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his fine features. “Dalliance does not frequently meet my taste,” he said simply. 

“Oh? Surely you must have ample fine opportunities, my lord?” 

“I suppose.” 

“Astonishing...such austerity! You are a truer Knight than the most, my lord, if I may speak so. But none would hold you to count, for answering the calls which your position and your manly nature dispose you to receive, and enable you to respond…  …Now her Highness, here, is situated rather differently. Who can say where her preferences lie? She cannot answer such a call, would she or no, for not a one has ever been forthcoming for her!” Olandria finished the revelation with a snide smile, just for her.  

Ciri’s heart dropped through her stomach. She wanted to sink to her knees, and flee, in about equal measure. She could do naught but stand silently, color blooming on her cheeks. 

Luke startled, appearing heavily taken aback, but quickly recovered himself and turned his attention fully onto her. “Well, I have to say, my lady, that I have the deepest respect for your position,” he began quietly, a silent entreaty in his tone and a little of the formality shedding from his words. “I know as well as any with eyes and understanding, the sort of callers who swarm around those who wield power. To have rid yourself of them entirely, is remarkable, and a testament to the fine caliber of your character. I wish I had half the grace that you possess; it would have brought me an easier road. …And I know that one day, you will find someone who merits your attention.” 

Meanwhile, Olandria's smile had flagged with disappointment. 

She looked at him gratefully, feeling her embarrassment slightly recede. “…Th-thank you, Luke,” she said quietly, too shaken to call him properly, “Um...please excuse me, I think I’m going to go.” 

…And her tormentor's smile ever-so-slightly returned. 

“Of course,” he replied. “Would you care for company?” There was something hopeful in his manner. 

She smiled a little in spite of herself, and agreed, “Yes, thank you.” 

His answering smile was sweet and soft and grateful… and it frosted over as soon as he turned to face Olandria. “Please excuse us, lady Olandria,” he said stiffly. “I believe something you have said may have soured our lady’s taste for this evening. Not to worry, I will see that her spirits are buoyed. Perhaps you may now seek out that dance.” He turned and stepped past her without waiting for a reply, and Ciri followed after him - and as soon as he was clear of their former little circle, he halted to await her, extending her his arm with a gentle smile. Hesitantly, she took it, and permitted him to guide her from the hall.

Once they were clear of people and out into the night, he sighed. “I detest that woman.” 

She snickered, despite her lingering embarrassment. “Yeah, me too,” she agreed. 

“I said I’ve met a lot of court people I don’t like, but… most have at least the good sense not to insult their betters to their face.” His tone softened, “I’m sorry, Ciri. She was unbelievably rude.” 

A short laugh huffed between her teeth. “Why should you be sorry? Trust me, she’s always like that. It’s nothing to do with you. …W-well…I-I guess normally she does exercise better discretion than that in public, but… still, it’s just how she is.” 

He looked back toward the hall with an expression of mild disgust, as though he could know where Olandria was just at that moment, and his voice hardened. “She’s always like that? She’s treated you this way before?” 

She nodded hesitantly, embarrassment rising once again. “Um, yeah, s-she’s… I-I guess she’s kind of a bully. And sh-she hates me. Always has…since we were kids.” 

They approached a balustrade, and he paused before reaching it, to turn his face to meet hers and say gently, “I regret very much to learn that, Ciri. You deserve to be treated with much finer respect.     …I have to confess, though, that I do think I may have had something to do with her… not scrupling to discress, tonight.” 

She blinked to find that he was blushing. “W-what do you mean? I don’t see how you could have…” 

He dropped his arm, and she released him, not without some measure of regret. He stepped to the railing and leaned his forearms upon it, and she followed, companionably close to his side. “Well, I… I just don’t think she liked the way I looked at you.” 

Now she was blushing, too. “Oh….  H-h-how were you.. l-looking at me…?” she asked weakly. 

He turned his gaze to her, and she nearly dropped hers away. She would have, no question, but that he was so disarmingly flushed and he was looking at her that very way, again. With something unnameably soft in his eyes. “Couldn’t you tell?” 

She did drop her gaze, then, abruptly fixing it out onto the darkness beyond the railing. “I’m sorry, Ciri,” she heard him apologizing gently, “I don’t mean to be coy,” …and slowly raised her eyes back to him. He was watching her quietly. “I believe I was looking at you like you've been holding me captivated… like I could fall into you without moving, and wouldn't even try to stop myself." 

She gasped, softly. Her eyes felt frozen on his beautiful, reddened face. Gradually she blinked, as an, “o-oh…” drifted dazedly out of her throat. 

This time, it was his eyes that fell away. “So…,” he continued, looking back up at her in a moment with a wry little smile and that softness in his eyes, “I think that may have made her feel a little jealous.” 

“Oh,” she said, with better strength, “Y-yeah, m-maybe. I think… I think they’re all a little dazzled. B-by you…” 

“Yeah…,” he blushed, looking down again, “I think you may be right. Whereas I’m just dazzled by you.” 

She laughed nervously. “C-come on, don’t…d-don’t make jokes.” 

“I’m not making a joke, Ciri.” And nothing in his manner seemed jovial, at all. 

There was a pause, as she tried to digest that. “You’re famous!” she finally exclaimed, “You’re storied. And you’ve been everywhere, to the stars, to places we can’t even imagine! And you’re- handsome, and smooth-talking, and you can do magic - at least as far as we can tell, even if it’s just because we’re too small to understand. It makes sense why everyone is amazed by you! I’m no one special at all. I have a special dad. That’s it, and even he is no one compared to you. There’s no reason for you to look tw–” 

“Did you know,” he interrupted her, “that out of all those fancy places in the galaxy I’ve been, meeting overlords and presidents and potentates, no one has ever, once, invited me to call them by their first name? But you did, instantly. …I’m so tired of being famous, Ciri. I’m tired of my special story following me around everywhere I go. I like the way you treat me. I like you.” 

A silence fell between them. She was taken aback, working the information over in her mind. Eyes searching the darkness. 

After a moment, he sighed. “A long time ago,” he said quietly to the darkened grounds, “when I was new to this… to fame… just after we’d won the war, while my sister was cobbling together a galactic government out of chuba chips, I… I let myself be caught up, in the swirl of my admirers. I let them wine me and dine me, let myself be shown off at ritzy parties… and I let…,” he trailed off, swallowing, looking down at the ground. She waited, stilled, and then he softly continued, "I let them do things with me… 'dalliances.' Like what Olandria was talking about.  …And I can’t tell you, how I regret it.          ….…You're different. I like the way you make me feel.” After a moment, he delicately raised his eyes back to hers.  

“I… Luke, I don’t know what to say,” she managed quietly. She cautiously reached out to him, and placed her hand on his forearm. 

“Say that you believe me, when I tell you how I feel. Say that you like me, too.” 

“I-I believe you… and I like you too."

He gave her a slow smile filled with such gratitude, that she nearly felt guilty to receive it. “Thank you, Ciri.” 

"A-are you alright, Luke?" she asked quietly. His vulnerability was making her heart hurt. 

But he smiled at her so fully that she nearly stopped breathing. He gently put his hand over hers, and lightly brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "Yeah, I'm fine, Ciri. Thank you for asking. Just bad memories… but they're distant, now. ..How about you? Are you alright?" 

She found herself nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine too. Um, th-thanks for being so nice to me, back there. I-I… I don't know what I would have done, without you there to… take over, the way you did." Then she said, "…Luke…   we could talk more, a-about memories, some time… a-anytime, if you wanted someone friendly to talk to." 

He smiled prettily, lightly squeezed her hand, and said softly, "Thank you, Ciri. ..I might take you up on that, later.” Then he released her. “…Well, without me there I imagine you would have been less embarrassed in the first place, too. And she probably wouldn't have said anything either, anyhow. …But I'm glad I was able to help." 

His tone was confidently casual. She wasn't much for social cues, but it seemed to say, that he'd like to move on. So she  packed up the worry in her chest for later, and did. "Well, I-I guess I… I probably wouldn't have come, if you weren't gonna be there, anyway. I mean I… I nearly never d-do," she admitted. 

His face split and beamed with happiness. He rested his chin on his hand and rocked forward on his elbow, joyfully. "You really do like me… I'm so flattered to hear that, Ciri. And I'm glad you did.. even though she was so awful to you, and even though it was weird talking to you in um… in court-speak. It made me so happy to see you." 

She smiled, slightly timidly, under his delight. "It - it was weird, talking to you that way. It kept throwing me off, n-not being able to call you by… and how you were addressing me! -A-and, you know, just with her being there…I always avoid her, I haven’t had to really talk to her in so long… B-but you… you're so good at that stuff. Everytime I… g-got- got lost, you..you made it be OK. H-how do you do that, anyway?" 

“It’s just lots and lots of practice, Ciri. I really have no natural talent for this at all. I used to be more like you…blushy, stuttery, unsure. I would always be flubbing up. But when you’re so… whatever I am, to people, it makes them remarkably forgiving. So I got in lots of practice.”

She had flushed deeply and looked away at having her awkward tells pointed out, and now she felt his hand gently cover her arm. “..Please forgive me if I was overly blunt, Ciri." She sensed him leaning in a little closer, and then his voice began again, soft and low and near, "…You know, you don’t need to be embarrassed about this… I like you, and I like you the way you are. You’re sincere. Your feelings are always showing on your face. It’s so refreshing to me...like I’m talking with a real person, in a room full of animated masks. You put me to shame. And… I like it that when I’m with you, you make me blush, too. No one else makes me do that, anymore.” 

"I'm… I'm the only one?" 

"You're the only one, Ciri." 

She peeked up at him. His lips were slightly parted, his smooth cheeks flushed with color. "W-well… I guess that could make me a little special, m-maybe." 

He grinned appreciatively. "It sure makes you special to me." 

She gave a little laugh, blushing and looking up at him happily. He made her feel so comfortable, and so uncomfortable, at the same time. She glanced down and half-subconsciously closed the tiny gap between them, and leaned against him. 

He leaned slightly into her in return, then opened his palm and murmured, "Give me your hand…?"

Her heart skipped, and she did it immediately, placing her hand palm up on his. He gently curled his fingers down between hers…then brought up his gloved hand too and clasped hers in his larger pair… 

He turned her palm downward, his fingers still wrapped through hers, and tenderly cradled her hand in both of his. "Thank you, Ciri…" he breathed. She simultaneously lost control of her exhale, and her breath roughly skittered out. She felt briefly embarrassed. She felt him squeeze and softly rub his thumbs along her skin; then she leaned her temple against his cheek, and closed her eyes...and felt a little better. 

A moment passed, during which she tried to get used to the sensation of his skin on hers. 

"Luke?" she asked, eyes flashing open, suddenly anxious again. 

"Yes, Ciri?" 

"Um, is it w-weird if… I've n-n-never…  n-never.. if, I've, n-never, held hands, like this, before?" she stammered out shyly. 

He smiled wistfully, where she couldn't see, and gently pressed her hand, and warmly reassured her, nudging slightly into her hair. "No, Ciri, I don't think it's weird… I think it's innocent. …And I'm delighted to be the one who gets to hold your hand, princess." 

She smiled, biting her lip with pleasure at his answer. A long moment passed, during which she felt almost nothing but his closeness. He shut his eyes, his head rested against hers.

"…And you know something else, Ciri?" he murmured presently. 

"What is it, Luke?" 

"I've never held hands like this, either."

"-Oh! - r-r-really?" she said in surprise. She was sure he'd done everything… 

"Really. You're my first. …but that's not as innocent, coming from me." 

He sighed. "…I really like how you make me feel, Ciri, I mean, really. Like, I get to walk around with these butterflies in my stomach, and blush like a farmboy while I hold hands with the pretty girl who put them there…" He laughed, quietly, "I wanna do such sweet, silly things with you."

Her breath caught. "W-with me? …I-I mean, I'd like to, too! –O-oh, um…" She blushed terribly. 

"Did you just have second thoughts about being sweet and silly with me?" he asked with a smile in his voice. 

"Um, no I - I just…" her voice dropped to a tiny whisper, "It's just, Luke, I don't know what I'm doing… I-I don't really know what to do…" 

He soothingly squeezed her hand and whispered back, "Try not to worry about it, Ciri. It's alright. There's nothing in particular that you have to do… it's not a performance, or a game. There's no wrong moves. You can't mess it up. Just be yourself, with me." 

"O-OK…" she quietly sighed. "um, ok. thanks. I can do that. Luke…," she was still whispering, "um, n-no one thinks I'm pretty." 

"I doubt that, very much. I think people just don't know what to say to you. But even if it were true, it doesn't matter. I know you're pretty… and I think it's about time you started hearing so, if you haven't. You're beautiful, princess. I'll tell you again, later." 

She flushed. "Th-th-thanks…," she trailed. 

A moment passed. 

"…Ciri's such a pretty name, too," he remarked, his eyes closed again and a small smile on his lips. "It's so pleasing to say…"

She laughed in embarrassment, "Um, th-thank you…," and a satisfied hum escaped his throat. 

"So… you came to this thing just for me… do you really not want to dance with me, Ciri?"

"I… I couldn't, n-not w-with… and I don't know how to dance, Luke," she confessed. 

"I could teach you." 

"B-but… not with… I-I can't, in front of…" 

He squeezed her hand. "We don't have to be in front of anyone. I can teach you to dance when we're alone." 

"Oh…," she breathed, then flushed. "I-I guess that… that would be alright, then." 

She could hear the warmth of his smile in his voice. "Perfect. …You know, I usually don't enjoy dancing very much either, I only learned it for work… but I'm really looking forward, to dancing with you." 

She huffed a nervous laugh, blushing yet again, and quashing the impulse to remind him there was nothing so special about her. "J-just don't expect… I-I mean, I'm probably going to stomp on your toes or something terrible…" 

He chuckled. "Like I said, Ciri… there's no wrong moves here. So stomp away. My boots are tough." 

She smiled, feeling flutters in her insides of her own, and laughed a little nervously, "Well.. alright. I'll t-try not to make you regret saying that…."  

He laughed, gently. "I'm sure I won't." 

Time passed in the glow of his body heat, and then she asked, "Luke? W-why do you always wear that glove?" 

"Oh… well, here… I hope I'm not about to creep you out…," he muttered as he gently released her hand to tug at his glove, "but it's to hide the hole in my prosthetic…" 

She almost regretted speaking, to lose his hands on hers, but she watched with interest as he removed the glove and turned over his hand, revealing a hole in the back, with oddly deformed and blackened edges, and darkness in its center. She blinked at it. 

"Oh," he said with light embarrassment, then retrieved a penlight. 

When illumined, she could see that the hole was filled with a mass of wires and metal struts. She leaned in curiously, and he flexed his hand. She saw the struts sliding smoothly past one another. Her mouth fell open, and she gasped. "Oh m- …oh.. Y-your hand is mechanical??" 

And she hesitantly reached out to touch it, lightly brushing the skin. It felt surprisingly real, except… it was cooler than his other hand. She watched its innards shifting as he extended and flexed his fingers, her mouth slightly opened in wonder. 

"I lost it… in the war. My hand. Got a great prosthetic, though…" 

"Yeah, it's amazing!" 

"Except for the hole, I can barely notice a difference. It's got a full range of movement, neural control, somatosensation… everything." 

"You can feel, with it?"

"Yeah, basically like normal."

"What happened to it? Th-the hole, I mean." 

"The synthskin was damaged in a blasterfight, and I just never had it replaced." 

She delicately brushed her fingertip over the edge of the hole; then gasped and yanked back her hand. "I-I'm sorry… m-may I?" 

He grinned with lambent indulgence. "You may… please feel free." 

Her fingertips returned to the smoothed and slightly bulbous melted edge… 

She slowly slid her hand down over the back of his, feeling the smooth texture of the false skin and the corruption of the hole. 

"W-why didn't you… replace it?"

"I wanted a reminder…," he said slowly, "…of- of who I am. Or… who I can be." 

His voice sounded a little distant. She stopped exploring the hole, to look up at him, and focus fully. 

“What do you mean?" she asked curiously, then quickly remembered her manners, "I-I mean, you don’t… obviously it’s personal, you don’t have to explain.”

A moment went by, then… 

“In the war…,” he quietly mused, “It was my father. Who took my hand. I thought he was dead, but..he was fighting on the other side. He was… he was a great Jedi, who fell to the dark side. And he wanted me to join him. He thought that he could leave me without other options, I suppose. …All that time, on Tatooine… my uncle had been protecting me from him… But I wouldn’t turn.

"In the end… I went to confront his master. The Emperor. And we fought for him… my father and I. I couldn’t understand why the Emperor kept laughing… I was filled with anger, and desperation. My friends were in danger, dying… it was our best chance to beat the Empire and we had risked everything for it, and the Empire was going to win. I let my anger guide me… I defeated my father, and I took his hand, in turn. And when I looked at the stump as he lay there on the floor, I saw nothing but the charred, smoking ends of wires. …He had been in a terrible battle, long ago, and most of his body had been replaced by machinery. He couldn't breathe, without the machines. Couldn't do much of anything, but die…

“I don't know what came over me, exactly. I looked at his stump, and I looked at my false hand, and I realized that what I was doing was wrong. That's why the Emperor was laughing. He thought that by killing my father, I could be pushed to the dark side.    …So I threw my weapon away and refused to fight. And the Emperor began killing me… he was much stronger in the Force than I. I had barely finished training. He had been a great lord in the dark side of the Force, since long before I was born. I didn't have a chance. 

“…My father saved me," he said quietly, "My father sacrificed himself, to kill his master, and save me… People like to say that I defeated the Emperor, but it isn't true. I helped my father come back to the light, and then I watched him die…" his voice dropped to a whisper. "No one understood… He was about the most feared man in the galaxy, so I guess it makes sense, but… I had to build his funeral pyre alone.

"I keep this hole, to remind myself of him. How I nearly became him… how the compassion I showed him returned him to the light. That I always have two paths before me, and one of them is his." 

They were silent for a space. Then she softly took his false hand in both of hers, clasped and squeezed it tight, trying to offer him comfort. The edges of the hole made an indent in her palm. 

"Luke, I'm sorry…," she whispered, "No one should have to… face a parent, that way. Turned against you…I can't even say. I'm sorry you went through that. …and that you had to grieve him alone. Someone should have been with you." 

He smiled ruminatively, and his fingers gently nudged between hers. "Thank you, Ciri. …It's alright. I saw his ghost once, you know. And it was the real him, without all the machinery… He lives on in the Force. All the strong lights do… He's there with my old masters. I think he's at peace. I think he feels freed." 

She felt a sad smile, as the thought settled in. "That sounds nice…," she murmured, "I'm glad. I'm glad you got to see him that way." He smiled at her sidelong, in pleasure. 

"I am, too.

"…I haven't told that story very often…and not at all for a long time. Most people don't know how to feel about it. I guess it makes them uncomfortable…because of what my father did, after he fell. …It feels good, to share it with someone who doesn't see it through that lens."

She smiled, and was silent, thinking. She had gotten his hands back, and wondered at the difference between them. He hadn't replaced his glove. She let her fingers almost subconsciously try to learn the synthskin from the real thing. 

"Luke, does that mean that.. you're going to be a ghost?" 

He laughed, softly. "I imagine that I will." 

"Amazing… I wonder what it will be like…,” she trailed off, then gave a small laugh. “I always thought it was so silly to believe in ghosts, and now…"

"…And now you’re like, friends with one,” he supplied. 

“And now I’m like friends with one,” she echoed with a grin. 

"It's a strange galaxy."

She laughed, knowing a different version of the phrase. "You're so worldly, Luke," she complimented, making him laugh, too. 

They stood like that for some time, intermittently chatting, he now and again carefully squeezing her palm or absently rubbing his cheek against her hair. 

Presently, she began to yawn, to her chagrin. 

"…Can I take you home, princess?" 

"I'm fine," she protested, yawning again. 

He chuckled, grinning luxuriously, and murmured softly into her hair, "You know Ciri, I'm gonna be here tomorrow, too. ….I know where to find you… and I wanna spend the whole day together, just you and me." Her heart pulsed, as her guts liquefied. 

"S-s-sure," she agreed, "Y-yeah I'll… I-I'd like to, too." 

"Then it's a plan. …And until then… it's fine to get some sleep tonight, you know." 

"Um," she said through a yawn, "Yeah, OK. In a moment." He tightened his grip on her hand in acknowledgement, and she gripped his back. They breathed together, quietly sharing each other's heat. He slowly pressed a kiss just above her temple, and her heart leapt. 

At some point her tiredness became unignorable, and she let him urge her to bed. He offered her his arm to walk her there, but instead of taking it she slid her hand back into his. He practically beamed with happiness as he squeezed her palm, while she blushed up at him with a careful little smile and they began walking. 

When they got to her rooms and halted in front of her door, she found herself not knowing what to say or do. But before she had much chance to dither, he stepped in closer to her and brought her hand up between his, and gently stroked across her knuckles, then softly squeezed. "I had an absolutely wonderful time with you tonight, Ciri… and it was such a privilege to be given your hand. Thank you…," he murmured. 

She gasped quietly to feel her palm being lightly fondled, and instinctively brought her other hand up to place over his, looking up at him with big eyes, a timid smile, and a blush. "I-I had a great time, too, L-Luke… Thank you." 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ciri," he whispered to her fingers, then softly kissed them and released her, with a shy smile… 

He stepped back. She shakily turned, and opened her door, and stepped inside. She got one more chance to see his smile as she closed it, then she heard his footsteps retreating down the corridor as she collapsed against her door.

He'd said they were friends, but she was starting to feel more and more certain that he didn't want to just be friends. The realization was deeply overwhelming. 

Despite how tired she'd been, it was hard to sleep. 

When you’re triggered af and need fluffy, comforting luke giving you a self esteem boost but don’t have mental energy to write it 😭

Update: I’m kind of in crisis mode rn, so if anyone’s taking requests and could write this, please let me know.

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours Pt. 2

Part 1 

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has some of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So Part 2 is that slow burn build up (with possible cute moments?) and part 3 will be the actual SMUTTY goodness. Hopefully this is something cute and fluffy that is enjoyable and helps progress the story a little more so when a full length next part of a bunch of smut comes it all makes sense. Or idk anymore lol I edited this thing four times and I just really hope you all like it  Please enjoy this wordy mess. I wasn’t sure how to properly write it out the end and yeah...I winged it. If it needs to be fixed lmk please!! As always, I hope you all enjoy. Much love, Jenn

P.s. when I wrote this I listened to Lauv’s “I Like Me Better,” and Pink Sweat$ Feat. Kehlani’s “At My Worst,” on repeat like crazy.

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15,496 (I know:it’s a hefty boy)

Genre: Fluffy/Smutty, slow burn, 

The next day at school you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was going to happen. And sure, maybe you did wake up from a dream replaying that moment in the mud. The ending is a little bit different. This time, dream you didn’t let your chance to kiss him go by. When the opportunity presented itself, and you were both looking at one another like before, you’d leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t surprised to feel him kissing you back. 

You could still feel the ghost of the imagination of him leaning down to press his lips against yours. The way he leaned in; eyes soft with longing as his body leaned deeper in against you. The weight of him pressing you into the mud until you were sure an imprint of this moment would be there forever. This imaginary kiss you’d shared was sweet, chaste, and everything you could’ve hoped for. Deepening at the last second as your alarm blared you back into realty. 

It made you want to ring your hands through your hair in frustration. 

Your whole walk to school was nothing but foggy images of the dream on repeat. A mixture of yesterday’s events accompanied them with each frame until you weren’t sure which was the actual moments or what your head had created. I mean, you did know he didn’t kiss you, but...the look in his eyes. Maybe Jungkook hadn’t, but there was that moment you swore maybe he felt the painful comedic romance moment of it all too. 

All these unanswered what if’s you'd created had built an impossible chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely wider between you in your head. In the end, you were your own bully as your mind stayed up until three that morning playing out every scenario you could think of. Even the ones that ended with you probably reading everything wrong, because what did you know about body language? Or, more specifically, boys built like Jeon Jungkook.

It didn’t matter that you had two tests today and never finished your homework for home period, but what the hell. Nothing like hopelessly daydreaming about the boy who may or may not have flirted with you and harmonized along to songs with a hidden voice of an angel, am I right? And sure, a large part of your night was  spent chastising yourself half the time to remind you there was no way in hell Jungkook could feel that way towards you. Even just a little. Your inner monologue of bringing yourself back down to earth, another culprit in the growing list of reasons why none of your assignments were completed. 

What can you say? You were a mess.

Your only game plan you’d been able to agree on was just to daydream out the window. Writing out your own hapless love story starring the boy who sat across from you in the home room. With a silent plea to the universe that you weren’t called on to answer any questions. 

Your arrival at homeroom was met with barely seconds to spare. The bell rang behind you, and a few other students, as you rushed towards your desk. 

“Hurry, hurry to your seats! Or I’ll write you up as late!”

Mr. Choi was all talk. Everyone knew it and his excessive arm movements to rush every body that passed his desk made him look exactly like a conductor. His crazy movements were enough to distract you for a split second from the one person you were desperate to ignore. 

“Good morning, class. I hope you are all fully rested and awake for class this morning. Let’s have us open our books to page two hundred and forty-two and continue on with our lesson.” 

In unison the sound of backpacks unzipping with students reaching in their backpacks to bring out textbooks filled the class. The only person who didn’t currently have said book was holding his hand up, and seated directly across from you. 

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“Seonsaengnim, I’m sorry. I haven’t received my textbooks yet.”

“Ah, that’s alright, Jungkook. You can go ahead and share with Y/N, again.”

You hoped your face wasn’t giving away the panic you felt rising up to match the blush that was streaking across your cheeks. Jungkook’s hand was already on the leg of your desk. His fingers tips grazing across your knee in passing as his hand wrapped around the bar and used it to bring you closer to him. You kept your eyes glued to page two hundred and forty-three and refused to look in his direction. Jungkook seemed to find a way to remedy this; his hand came into view and grabbed hold of the book corner and slid it over to his side. And as if he was the world’s greatest magician, he now had your attention. 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to acknowledge his presence, instead of staying on the book. You knew that devilish smirk of his would be there to greet you even before you actually saw it. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Y/N.”

His voice practically hummed a tune as he spoke. His eyes heavily searched your face, and you prayed whatever he found wasn’t any lasting signs of rosy cheeks. 

“Good morning, Jungkook. I hope you slept well.”

“I slept very well, thank you.”

“That’s good-“

He cut you off fast, his next words a hush of teasing: “Even though some crazy girl tried to smother me in mud yesterday.” 

Your world narrowed in on his smug position in his chair, but quickly realized he just wanted your attention. The smile he wore softened around the edges as his eyes tried to look away from you and yet found their way back. You did your best to hide your smile and must have failed miserably for his face noticeably brightened. 

“I’m sure if that’s what she was doing - which I doubt - you probably deserved it.” 

Jungkook pretended to be wounded and caused you to practically jump out of your seat when his free hand landed on top of yours. 

“I can’t believe you think I deserve to be smothered,” he pouted. 

You rolled your eyes in a weak attempt to look away from him. Anything to not be swallowed up by how stupidly cute he looked in this exact moment. The fingers that held your pencil lazily tapping on the pages of the math book to bring his focus to something else that wasn’t you. 

“We need to pay attention.”

It was the only valuable excuse you could come up with to look away from him. But who were you kidding? You didn’t have to be looking in Jungkook’s direction to be painfully aware that he was there. His own gaze burned straight through you and left a trail of heat everywhere his eyes seemed to land. 

Right now, you were aware they were on your lips and stirring every emotion from your dream you tried to suppress. Plus, you weren’t being cute. Unless Jungkook found the sight of you chewing your bottom lip into dust attractive. 

It was a terrible nervous habit that seemed to only backfire right this second. You were sure he was ready to make a comment on it. You waited patiently for it to come in between you mindlessly copying equations off the board and the sea of arms flying up to answer whatever it was you’d just written. My gosh, you were trying so damn hard to not pay attention that you were doing nothing but paying attention to him. 

Please don’t let him just see I’m doodling. 

Mr. Choi was in the middle of showing how to work out a long equation when you decided it was safe to give Jungkook a glance. It was instantaneous how quickly you regretted it. 

You jumped back against your seat in a weak attempt to recover some space. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d missed it -missed him- getting so close, but you had. Jungkook’s face was mere inches from yours and it took everything to not show him you weren’t at all bothered. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered fiercely. “What.are.you.doing!”

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes squinting as they looked around the side of your head. The gesture made you increasingly subconscious until you couldn’t keep your hand from going up to brush alongside it. 

“What? What is it?”

You were expecting the worst. 

“I think I see some mud still stuck inside your ear.”

And like magic your earlier blush reappeared. Your tongue rolled against the bottom of your teeth in a weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to stop it as the urge to give in tugged mercilessly at your lips. The playful glint in his eyes was enough to keep the panic of how incredibly close he still was. Your eyes hopelessly glancing at the pair of lips that plagued your dreams. 

Jungkook noticed. 

And how did you know this, you might ask? 

Jungkook gave it away by the dramatic way his lower lip was drawn in by his teeth. Every movement he made sure was exaggerated and stupidly slow. His eyes watch for your reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; your eyes were glued to them long before his teeth joined the equation. You should’ve felt more embarrassed at your own blunt display - or maybe at his -but, god help you, you weren’t. 

You tore your gaze away from him and did your best to pretend whatever part of the lesson you’d missed was interesting. The dirt on your shoes could’ve been more interesting at this moment; anything to keep you from looking back at him. 

“I rinsed my hair three times in the shower. Thank you very much.” 

“Did you think of me while you were washing yourself clean?”

If what Jungkook was after was seeing your face light up brighter than a tomato he’d succeeded. Your cheeks instantly flushed and felt scolding hot. The only line of defense you could think of to fight the devilish look in his eyes was to give him a smack on his arm. The motion only caused his sinister smile to turn into a full blown grin; a bark of laughter leaving him seconds later. 

Jungkook chuckled out an, “Ouch!” His body leaning back, faux wounded, and rays of sunshine pouring out of him in waves. 

“I meant when you were getting the mud out of your hair.” His voice carried the singing sweetness of his laughter; airy and light. This boy who you did think of in the shower. All hard edges and softness; sour and sweet. Your very own sour patch kid. “I mean, I thought of you when I tried scrubbing it out from behind my ears.”

Your heart gave a brief jump at his omission. What you wished you would’ve focused on was the fact he’d admitted to thinking of you...in his own shower. But nope! Instead, your mind appeared to focus more on the fact it was while he scrubbed at his ears. 

“I scrubbed my ears too.”

Oh. My. God, you inwardly cringed. 

Is that really what your magical brain decided to say in return? Jungkook leaned back in, eyes inspecting not just your ear, but your entire space. Recklessly moving in dangerously close, and your heart was ready to beg for mercy. Whether to completely close the space between you or to stop teasing, of which you weren’t sure. 

“It appears you didn’t do that good of a job,” he huffed.

A gurgled scream flew into your throat; the sound was utterly ridiculous and Jungkook ate it up. His head flew back in laughter as your hand moved to swat at him again. 

The disruption turned the attention of your teacher directly to the two of you, and Mr. Choi was quick to address it. 

“Jean Jungkook! Y/L/N, Y/N!”

The both of you rose from your seats in unison. Jungkook’s rise the definition of graceful, while yours in comparison was met with anxiety and your knees colliding with your desk. Your small “Oomph,” of pain sending him into a fit of giggles beside you. The hand you sent in to pinch at his leg only sent him into another fit. 

“Y/N!”

Stupid, stupid! Of course he would see.

“Seonsaengnim!”

To appease him, you felt your body respond in a ninety-degree salute. Your face keeping down to stare at your shoes and praying you weren’t about to be sent out of the room. 

“Would you mind explaining what Jungkook and you found so interesting that the two of you felt like you didn’t need to be a part of class.”

God, it wasn’t a question. He really wanted you to tell him, and what could you say? 

“Oh, he was just asking me if I was in the shower...thinking of him. And he was thinking of me too!”

Which wasn't a lie. Maybe it wasn’t as dirty as he might have intended, but it was enough to make your cheeks flush to life with their usual color these days. Your mind was still racing with an appropriate answer for Mr. Choi. You were taking so long you were ready to blurt out anything he might want to hear. 

“Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook gave a respectful bow and lifted his head. His full attention now resting on the impatiently waiting man at the front of the class. “We were discussing the fact that you, respectfully, have written the equation wrong on the board.” 

The entire class seized up. A collective air was taken at Jungkook’s bold attempt to correct him. It was awkwardly obvious that he wasn’t happy at the idea of being corrected. However, Jungkook remained unfazed and waited for the right time to speak. 

“Is that so?” He snapped. “If it is so wrong, Jeon, then please, come and fix it for me.”

You were sure his order for Jungkook to go to the front would make him back down . No one enjoyed doing class work on the board up front for all to see. But you’d forgotten Jungkook wasn’t like everyone else. He kept his head high and moved to grab his cane; his hand wrapping tightly to its handle. Jungkook stepped out from inside his desk and let his feet carry him forward. He walked with a noticeable lack of a limp and you were willing to bet that strike of pride was costing him. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t believe that Jungkook was able to walk without it. It was just that your memory forced you to recall the pain he was in during the field trip. The flashes of frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over with tears. 

Jungkook came to stand beside Mr. Choi. His hand reaching out to take the marker that the older man had held out waiting for him to prove his equation wrong. He plucked it from the older man’s hand and moved the last few inches to stand in front of the board. His eyes scanning the problem quickly. Your breath held tight in your chest as you watched him get permission to grab the eraser. The class transfixed on his every movement.

You wondered how many of the girls in your class focused on him like you were. The same way your eyes ate up every simple movement he made. The notable flex of his back while he stretched to erase the middle and last part of what Mr. Choi had written out. 

“You had a good start here, Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook paused to stretch out his hand. Fingers marking underneath the start of the problem. “But you didn’t multiply these after they were divided, and because of this the middle became wrong. With your core of the problem being wrong the solution was never able to end in its final conclusion.”

With every word, Jungkook’s voice became more self-assured. His presence enveloping the room and demanding the attention he’d already received without question. Mr. Choi watched on with his arms crossed; index finger hugging his mouth in concentration as he watched Jungkook work. From the back of the class, you could see students writing down the new formula. Some of them realized the obvious error Mr. Choi had made. 

Jungkook looked at the problem over again on repeat. If it’d been you, you would have left it where it was knowing you’d done what no one else did. But Jungkook wanted to know, for himself, that it was correct. 

Finally, he stepped back from the whiteboard and handed the marker back to Mr. Choi. Who looked measurably impressed with him. His index finger he’d used for thinking now covered up a timid smile before he dropped it to grab a hold of the marker. 

“Go ahead and have a seat, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gave him a passing bow as he made his way back towards the back of the class. Back to you. It took everything you had not to notice how everyone’s view of him seemed to change. Even the honor students; the ones bound for scholarship glory to prestigious colleges now seemed to take new interest in him. 

You’d heard stories about Jungkook, like everyone else did. The Boy Wonder. The boy who seemed unfairly good at everything. Before you’d ever met him, a part of you believed there wasn’t a way the universe would seriously do that. And yet, as he moved to sit back down beside you, you suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of being below average. Your subconscious rose up to stop whatever sunlight you’d felt at his earlier words, and crushed it until it began to dim. All but snuffing it out. 

Jungkook fell back into the seat at his desk riding the high of confidence he’d gained from proving he’d know how to fix the answer. Not just know it; teach it. The air around him completely changed. He was the sun and the rest of you were becoming helplessly lost in his orbit. From the backwards glances of the others around you, you were pretty sure they weren’t going to mind one bit. 

Either Jungkook was honestly oblivious to all the attention or he just didn’t care. He practically beamed as he leaned himself closer to you completely unaware at how breathless he made you. That smile you’d admired during your field trip showed itself beaming and bright. He was so damn pleased with himself his eyes sparked with joy and you wish you could’ve pouted. Maybe found the strength not to care or to wonder if he could see how he affected you. 

You wanted to pout and be in your own bubble, damn it. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”

Us. 

Those butterflies you’d sworn to yourself you were not feeling towards him began to come to life. Or were they butterflies? You weren’t sure what to call the feeling Jungkook gave you. 

Sure, Jungkook made your heart thunder in your chest like a caged animal. And yea, maybe you swore to yourself there was an attraction there that you couldn’t explain, but that was just your dopamine talking. That didn’t mean the two of you were soulmates or the universe decided to bring you both together by a mess of unseen choices. 

But...when Jungkook looked at you this way it was hard to tell your thundering heart anything else. 

The two of you continued to look at one another. A heartbeat of time passing between you with Jungkook waiting for your reply. You watched the edges of his smile start to wilt as realization set in that you weren’t planning to  reply. No smile or teasing remark was headed his way, and just as fast as he noticed it, determination swiftly replaced the light weighted joy he’d shown moments earlier. 

“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’m positive he will leave us alone the rest of the class. I promise.”

God, why did he have to make things so difficult? When Jungkook spoke the words, “I promise,” they’d been so earnest. He meant them. Here he was trying to turn the tables and be your knight, instead of you being his. It would have worked, but what he didn’t know was that you weren’t worried about Mr. Choi. Not really. 

No one could tear you down further than you were able to do to yourself. 

He was still waiting for the answer that you would never give. You turned to face forward in your chair and tried to forget the ripple of sadness that moved over his face. The cost of your stubbornness suddenly felt too high. No matter how it made you feel though, you refused to look over in his direction. 

An awkward chasm had built between the two of you. Mostly, well, obviously it was all because of you. You figured Jungkook would eventually stop looking at you. You prayed he would stop. Every time he did it your body became painfully aware of his gaze, and the longing it held for you to acknowledge him. And every time you remained facing front. You no longer could pretend to focus, however, and that seemed to be all the signs Jungkook needed to know you were in some way paying attention.

Your notebook that’d been left unattended on the desk became his private art museum. The doodles started off silly and slowly morphed into small faces and objects that held impressive detail. You tried your best to ignore it; his arm practically took up most of the space on your desk. The angle forced him to shoulder into your space to the point that if you did finally turn to look at him you’d run inches away from his cheek. 

You were doing your best to pay attention to whatever your teacher was doing at the front. Your eyes watched as a wave of hands went up to answer questions you’d never heard. Yours kept sliding back down to the latest doodle he was making. The latest one he was working on had forced Jungkook to move further inland on your notepad. His forearm getting dangerously close to having to rest in your lap. 

It continued like this the remainder of class. For all the effort you’d put in the last half hour of pretending he wasn’t there, Jungkook shattered it within seconds. 

He’d repositioned himself with each new doodle he started. His shoulder wedged itself against yours and his forearm had completely taken up what little space was left on your desk. You were trying very hard to not pay attention to how said forearm was dangerously close to your chest. There was no hiding the redness of your cheeks. 

Without thinking, you whipped your head to look at him and almost yelled. You knew he was close, but nothing prepared you for this.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, voice incredulous. 

Jungkook turned to look at you and...was he pouting? His eyes played up on the childish quality as he turned to you and batted his eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“Ugh, can I help you? Do you need paper or something?”

“I have paper right here. Thanks.”

Jungkook patted the notepad with the end of his pen. Satisfied with his answer he turned his attention back to his latest artistic endeavor. 

“You know this is my desk. Right?”

“I like to think of it more like our desk. Sharing a space like we shared music.”

“Ya, Jungkook. You realize you blackmailed me into using my ipod.”

Jungkook feigned shock. His mouth dropping open and his eyes brows going too high up into his hairline. The entire scene was exaggerated and ridiculous. The scene forced you to roll your lips against your teeth to keep from smiling. The effort it took to hide your grin wasn’t unnoticed by Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’d been his goal all along. 

“Blackmail sounds so crass. I like to think of it as bargaining.”

“So we agree it’s called blackmail, then.” 

The theatrics of his face dropped into a serious stare that left his face completely blank. Void of all emotion except the annoyance that drew a heavy frown from his face. It was stupidly cute and this time you did allow yourself to smile. Your fingers reached out to grab one of his puffed out cheeks and gave it a sweet pinch, like a grandmother, and cooed in his direction. 

“Oooooh Jungkookie, don’t frown. We’ve all gotta be wrong sometimes.” 

He playfully nipped at your hand to make you snatch it away. It took everything in you not to make a sound at his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open in an awkward smile-shout as you brought your handle against your chest. 

“I think you’re misinterpreting the facts here. Maybe you hit your head on a small pebble or something when you fell in the mud.”

“You mean when you pulled me in.”

He shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t think I recall any force being used yesterday. You just fell on my chest trying to take advantage of me in my time of need.”

Now it was your turn to look deadpanned in his direction. Jungkook didn’t try to hide his wicked smile, however, and the cage of butterflies that were housed in your gut were released all over again. 

“Your appa must be a lawyer. It’d explain why you’re so good at bullshitting.”

“CEO, actually. But I would say you’re close. They are also full of shit.” 

You weren’t sure what to say to this omission about his father. Underneath the sarcasm felt like a heavy chasm that spoke of the death of a relationship. Your curiosity threatened to get the best of you, but you decided to just throw it away. Filing it away inside a little folder you’d made for little known facts about him. 

The bell rang and the mass of bodies in class all began to rise from their seats. All of them eager to rush from the classroom and do whatever plans they’d made to enjoy their little bit of freedom. You were reaching for your bookbag when Jungkook’s hand was just there. A part of you worried he’d decided to play a game of keep away, or something that fit his playful mood, Instead, he placed it down on the desk. 

“Oh, thank you, Jungkook.”

God. Why were you staring? Why was he staring?

The room was still filled with the small display of chaotic teenage energy. Most of them had already filed out of the classroom, while some were still putting things away. Honor students were arguing with the teacher about markings he’d left on papers. Small groups of friends chatting happily as they moved in tight clusters through the door. So much was going on around you, and yet the only person you were aware of was him. 

“You’re welcome. Have a good lunch, Y/N.”

The playful air that’d been around him had completely disappeared. This boy who stood before you now was more reminiscent of when you’d first met than the boy you’d grown to like. What had made him grow so distant?

“You too, Kookie.”

It slipped out. You couldn’t stop yourself. He’d already started to walk away in his retreat. As soon as his pet name you’d given him hit his ears he completely stopped moving. His head whipped around to glance at you with that devilish grin raised high on his cheeks. 

“Kookie? Are you calling me a snack?”

If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would’ve left your skull. The embarrassment was hot on your cheeks and you knew Jungkook would tease you without mercy for the slip up. By the look in his eyes you could tell he was never going to let this go. Not ever. He would be too happy to remind you of this until the day you died. Or until graduation. Whichever came first.

This time you scooped up your bookbag and snatched your book off the desk clutching them to your chest. In your haste to grab them and go, your knee collided with the edge of the desk, but you’d worry about that possible bruise later. You just needed to flee before Jungkook got any closer. 

“No, no. It was an accident.”

“You called me a snack by accident?”

You were backing up towards the safety of the open hallway. Your shoulders shrugging too high and your laugh too high-pitched in your attempt to play it cool.

“No snack nicknames here. It was just a slip of the tongue. I must just be hungry, ya know.”

“Are you hungry for me?”

Oh, he was intolerable sometimes. It didn’t matter how flustered he made you. A part of you knew his endless teasing was growing on you. You liked it, and the sane part of you wondered if you’d gone crazy. 

“Ya, Jungkook-”

“I think you mean, Kookie,” he cut in. 

Jungkook held a single finger up to silence you. He’d stopped moving towards you and let out a laugh as you tried to swat his hand down. He looked so much happier than he did moments ago. That alone made his teasing at your expense worth it. 

“No I mean, Jungkook. It’s the name your parents gave you.” You stated, proud that your voice sounded more stable than you felt. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch now. You should do the same and I’ll...see you later.”

You waited for him to argue. To continue to make comments in passing to keep your face rosy and flushed. He surprised you by just standing there in silence. His smile wide on his face and eyes looking at you like you’d held the moon. A look you weren’t used to and made you unsure how to respond. 

You started to walk back towards the door and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t follow. You sent him an awkward wave as your arms still held onto your things from your desk. Jungkook showed his amusement by giving you a wave in return.

“See you later, Y/N.”

At his words you turned on your heel and headed out towards the courtyard. No longer eager to eat your lunch that you’d packed. Your mind replayed his words and knew, without a doubt, he would keep his word.

—————-

Lunch went by as quickly as it came. Instead of eating your lunch with friends, you’d opted for sulking in the auditorium. Absentmindedly taking small bits off your food as you considered what had happened between Jungkook and you. 

There was flirting there. You may be a little delusional, but you weren’t delusional about this. It was obvious to anyone who witnessed it and yet you tried to deny its existence at every turn.  Of course, you knew why. 

It just didn’t make logical sense. You were two opposites that shouldn’t be in the least bit interested in the other. Well, that didn’t really seem correct when it came to Jungkook. He was attractive to everyone and probably even inanimate objects. But you...you just couldn’t see yourself that way. You’d only ever had one relationship in your life and it had been short-lived and in the third grade. 

Throwing what little was left of your sandwich back inside it’s little brown coffin, you removed yourself from your spot. A huff left you as you reached out to pick up your mess and started to hop back down the steps one-by-one. 

You weren’t sure what walking around was going to do. For the hundredth time since this day started, you were lost in your own head. The only thing you knew for certain was that you’d hoped to run into him again. A thought came to you that maybe, just this day, he’d shown up in the school's cafeteria. 

You could think of a million excuses for why you’d need to go into the cafeteria and it wouldn’t be weird. Just the thought of not coming off weird, while most certainly being weird, made you beam at your own creativity. 

You’d reached the last step and we’re crossing the field when you noticed, on the other side, the very boy you were looking for. He was alone and sitting under the shade of the only tree next to the amphitheater. His back against the bark and a knee drawn up to give his notepad a place to perch. Whatever he was writing, drawing, or formulating held his interest and refused to let him look up. 

All your previous bravado deflated in a second. It would be harder to deny you weren’t actively seeking him out if you went to him now. But, who said that you wanted too? 

Grabbing the strap of your book bag tight, you started back on your mission. Your legs made quick work across the field. It wasn’t until there was only a few feet left between you that he looked up. His brow still furrowed in tight creases of concentration as he decided if you were a friend or foe. Your feet almost tripped over themselves when he smiled at you. 

“Y/N!” He called happily. “What brings you over here?”

“I came looking for my snack.”

The surprise on his face made your bold choice of a response worth it. Jungkook, being who he was, quickly recovered and set his notebook and pencil down beside him. He placed his arms casually on his propped up leg and leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a secret. 

“Well, you found me. Why did you come looking for me? Really.”

You tried to think quickly of what to say. The idea of telling him the truth, that you’d just wanted to see him, felt painfully honest and might press him to ask for you to explain. How could you explain that in the short time you’d met him he was both the most interesting and infuriating man you’d ever met. But he was also the most beautiful, and had a delicate softness under his hard exterior that you were growing to love. He was basically the perfect description of the onion from Shrek. 

An idea clicked in your head and your hands quickly moved inside your bag and produced another brown bag. 

“I wanted to come see if you’d eaten. I had some spare kimchi rice ball’s my omma made.”

You extended the bag out to him. Your eyes locked together as you waited for him to either accept it or deny it. Jungkook surprised you by leaning forward and taking it gently from you. It took some effort, but he crossed his legs -his bad one in an awkward position - and plopped the bag down between his legs. 

You moved to sit beside him in the grass and took your book bag off your shoulder and into your lap. You watched as he moved to open the bag and peered cautiously inside. 

“It’s not a bomb,” you chided. 

“I never know with you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile spreading like wildfire across your lips. Jungkook was so charismatic it felt inevitable and fighting against it was futile. He took a large bite of the rice ball and practically swooned. His eyes had fallen shut and a ridiculous chanting of endless “Mhm’s” had started rising up around you. 

“Should I leave you two alone?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and for a moment you were worried maybe you did pull him out of some weird food ritual. His eyes were blank and then, all at once, he was back to being his usual animated self. The hand that held the rice ball shaking in your direction before shoving what was left inside his mouth. 

“This is unbelievably delicious.” He mumbled around his food. “You said your omma made these?”

“Yup!”

You’d said it in English just to dramatically pop the P at the end. Extending out your own kind of dramatics to match Jungkook’s. You leaned your hands back into the grass and noticed Jungkook watch your every move as you did. 

“Is your omma married?”

Your face fell into a deadpan stare as you replied, “Seriously? Of course her and my appa are still married, you creep.”

“If you can cook like your omma, Y/N I’m willing to lend you my amazing tutoring services. All for the low price of making things as delicious as this.”

He was already mid-way through shoving the second rice ball in his mouth. His head tilted back to drop it down. A piece of rice must have dislodged itself from its balled shape, because he erupted in a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him your water. 

“I think I’ll steer clear of rice treats. Just to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

Jungkook was about to lift the bottle up to his lips and stopped. His eyes falling on you with a playful glare. You held your hands up in mock surrender as you leaned forward. Your hands clap together to get pieces of grass and soil from your hands. 

While he drank the water you’d offered up the two of you fell into companionable silence. You didn’t mind waiting and Jungkook was happy that you did. When he’d finished with the bottle, he set it down beside him. His hand moving like a flopping fish in your direction to make you give him something that you’d had no idea he’d asked for. 

“Come on. Let’s see your math homework.” 

“For what?”

“To start your tutoring. Duh.”

You hated how cute he’d made the word sound. The way his lips smiled around it and left him beaming at you like a little kid on Christmas. 

“Can we pass? We just left the class and I hate math. A lot.”

Jungkook tsked you but didn’t look disappointed. 

“You can’t get better at something if you give up on it. Luckily for you, you’ve got the best person in the subject to tutor you.”

“For a fee,” you pointed out. 

“All the best things come with a price. I’m most definitely one of them. Now. Book.”

His hand movements were more controlled now. His fingers simply waved once -twice- for you to hurry it up and place what he’d asked in his hand. You really didn’t want any part of this. The thought was sweet, but when you said you hated math you meant it. So yeah, maybe you were grumbling a little as you reached inside your book bag and taking a little longer than was necessary to hand it over. 

Jungkook took it from you in one smooth motion and had it open to the spot previously in class. All your homework problems you’d left unfinished glaring against the white of the page. His eyes were already scanning over what little problems you’d written down. A clicking noise from his closed mouth reminding you why exactly you hadn’t finished more of it. The reason was sitting right in front of you. 

His hand flicked back out and he held it open. His eyes never lifted off the page as he demanded, “Pencil.”

“What the heck? Why am I supplying everything.”

“Cause I’m supplying myself,” he shot back. His hands taking the pencil you handed over to him. “Plus, I also can’t seem to find any in my bag.” 

“You didn’t even look.”

Jungkook gave a graceful shrug. His attention was fully engrossed in the problems. You weren’t ready for how cute he looked. How adorable those concentration creases in his forehead made him look, even deadly serious, with his fingers tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the paper. When he figured out what was missing from the equation he quickly erased and reconfigured everything on the page. 

You were staring intently at him, both because his angle’s were ridiculously handsome but also, the way the sun fell down on him here, peaking through the trees, felt like magic. It was hard to believe the universe was more than just molecules and that luck was thrown out randomly. If it was, maybe you’d caught some. 

Your thoughts were running wild and your concentration was no longer in the safe zone. Maybe that’s why when he finally looked up from the notebook and found you staring he’d smiled. Not his teasing one. Or the condescending either. This smile was soft like a secret, and directed only at you. \

“See something you like?”

His voice was gentle in his playfulness. As if he wanted to take the cautionary approach in case you were spooked. 

“Maybe I do.”

A smile of your own spread to match his and Jungkook wasn’t surprised. He was just happy, and it was a lovely sight to see. He looked away from you with his hand moving up to smooth out the hair on the back of his neck. He flicked the pencil down on the notebook and brought it forward for you to see. 

“Let’s get back to this. I’ll be honest with you. It’s pretty bad. You missed a whole line on the third problem that left you with an incomplete answer. Not to mention,” he lifted up the notebook and motioned towards the whole page, “Where is all the rest of the homework?”

Jungkook’s voice was filled with the beginnings of laughter. Not specifically towards you, but just the blatant fact you did not care. You gave him your best nonchalant shrug. In reality, you did care. It bothered you it wasn’t finished. 

Your fingers were digging in the grass and ripping some of it up and throwing it out into the field. 

“I had a hard time concentrating last night. Plus, if I’m being honest math has always been the hardest subject for me.”

“And that is why I’m going to help you.”

“For a fee,” you reminded him. 

“I’ll teach you the easiest way I know how to do these and I promise you, you’ll be flying through these problems in no time.”

The sincerity in his voice was evident. Jungkook really believed it and he wanted you to believe it too. You just couldn’t understand why and you found yourself speaking your mind. 

“Why are you wanting to help me?”

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. His face went blank as he looked at you one last time before he looked away. Whatever he was looking at he wasn’t really seeing. He just needed someplace else to look than the person he was talking to you. You did it plenty of times yourself. 

Whatever he’d decided on to say had caused his shoulders to square. Determined that whatever he needed to say he would make sure it meant something. 

“I like spending time with you.”

The smile you’d worn completely shattered as you stared at him. The butterflies rushed up and up until they trapped themselves in your throat. Jungkook’s admission was basically three words dropped away from just saying he liked you. 

This surprising admission should’ve been enough to make yourself not care who you saw walking. Or care when he stopped, his small mob with him, and start gesturing at his imaginary watch. His fingers rubbing together for money owed. 

It was worse when Jungkook looked back and took notice. Even worse when he looked back at you with questions swirling in his eyes. 

“Everything okay?”

Your eyes looked down to the safety of your hands. The way they were helplessly fidgeting back in the grass and tearing it apart like a miniature tantrum was brewing inside you. You hated that after all this time, you let Lee Kwon upset you by making you feel embarrassed about your dad. That he felt the need to tell everyone the business deal between his father and yours. How every time he told it he’d turned him more and more into a villain of his own misfortune. 

Without a reason why you took back your notebook from Jungkook and shoved it inside your bag. You were ready to leave. You didn’t want to explain, but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t let you just leave without one. 

He reached out and his hand gently wrapped around your wrist to stop you. There was no force. Nothing that hinted that he would keep you there if you didn’t want to be kept. Looking at him felt harder. His genuine worry almost threatened to let the tears from your frustration spill forward. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Your vision dragging away from him and back to the retreating back of the sociopath, Lee Kwon. 

You didn’t try to shake him off. You actually felt comforted by his worrisome touch. The way he leaned in closer as if he would pull you into his arms at any moment. As much as you wanted that to happen, you knew it wouldn’t happen. A deep sigh had built up in your chest and you released it while you looked back at him. 

“Look. Eventually, I know you’re going to hear about it: my dad, I mean.”

“That’s kind of odd high school kids would talk about someone’s appa.”

“You and me both,” you agreed. “But Kwon’s dad is a banker who doesn’t believe in client confidentiality. So he tells his son about his day over dinner and-“

“And he decides to bring it to school to make your life miserable,” Jungkook finished for you. 

He understood and didn’t need you to simplify it anymore. His hand left your arm and you suddenly found yourself missing his comforting touch. It was still there, that comfort, in the way his eyes softened and he leaned in intent to listen to whatever you needed to get off your chest. You appreciated his attention, but also hated it at the same time. 

“What’s your Appa’s thing?”

God. He did understand. Maybe just a little too well for your liking. 

“Gambling. It started when I was in the seventh grade. At first it wasn’t anything too crazy. He’d always been able to even it out. But then he became obsessed with the idea of winning big. Kept betting on things we couldn’t afford to lose. Eventually, he bet too high and ended up losing the business he and my mom built together and our house. They had to pay the bank back.”

“A bank this dude’s Appa works at.”

“Correct. My Appa...he isn’t a bad man. He’s paid his debt and hasn’t gambled since. What good is it for me or anyone else to make him feel bad for the rest of his life?”

“I don’t get it. Why does that have to do with you, though?”

You’d wondered the same exact thing half of your adolescent life. You shrugged and looked at Jungkook wondering if maybe he’d be able to make sense of it better than you could. 

“Twelve year old boys enjoy making up stories. First it was that we became so poor we lived with pigs. That's why I smelled.”

You put air quotations around smelled and Jungkook practically howled with laughter. You tried your best to show no emotion, but could feel the corner of your lips threatening to curl into a smile. 

“He probably said it because you didn’t know how to wash back then and, judging from earlier, I still don’t think you do.”

You moved to playfully shove at his shoulder. A scoff of laughter leaving you even though you told yourself you wouldn’t. Jungkook was waiting for you to make a move and when you did he easily grabbed a hold of you. The feeling of intimacy, just like yesterday in the mud, was swimming back to the surface. 

Your eyes looked up into his with your laughter being met with a wide grin. The way he was looking at you now made you believe in fairytales and left your lips aching to be kissed. 

Before either of you could decide what to do next, the bell for the end of lunch sounded. You could hear it going off all around you, but still the two of you stayed holding each other. Your bodies close enough that if he wanted to make a move all Jungkook needed was to lean down. To say your heart dropped a little when he moved away was an understatement. 

You focused on getting up from the grass. Your hands patting down your uniform as you struggle to find something not so awkward to say. You wanted to sound confident. You wanted to sound like you weren’t affected by him at all. 

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

God, you sounded awkward. You turned to start heading to your next period. You closed your eyes tight and mouthed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You’d gotten a few feet away when you heard him call to you. 

You turned to look back at him and found him still standing under the tree. His hands in his pockets and his eyes solely on you. 

“Would you let me walk you home?”

Did he really have to ask? You’d let him walk you to the edge of a volcano. You didn’t say that, however. You wanted to play it cool, but on the inside you were screaming. 

“I’d like that.”

When you turned back around to make your way to class, the memory of how his face had brightened at your reply, stayed with you. You couldn’t wait for the day to end. 

_________

True to his word Jungkook waited for you after school. You couldn’t help looking for him over the countless shoulders as you walked with the sea of students towards the entrance. The hole in the pit of your stomach opened back up from the underlying dreadful thought. That he wouldn't show up. You’d be left standing there waiting for him forever. But Jungkook continued to prove your pessimism wrong. 

The closer you got to the school’s gate, you were able to spot him instantly. He was leaning coolly against the gate. His bag at his feet and his cane positioned strategically out of view. If anyone just casually walked up, they would’ve never been able to tell he’d needed one. Maybe that was why he’d done it. 

He looked to be searching for someone in every face that passed him. It came to an end the minute his roaming eyes found you. No longer did he appear cool and composed. His body became animated with what you could only explain as a giddiness at your oncoming presence.

By the time you reached him, Jungkook was wearing his backpack on his shoulder and his cane in his hand. He was standing and waiting for you. The happiness at being next to you was intoxicating and you could only hope you looked the same. 

“It felt like I was waiting forever,” he admitted. 

The two of you started in sync out the gate and turned left onto the main road.

“It felt like an eternity just to get to you. I have Mrs. Chun’s chemistry class for the last period. The classroom is pretty far.”

“Mhm, like on a planet far far away.”

Your eyes rolled up to look at him. The affection you found in the warmth of his eyes was startling, but not a surprise. 

Your mom used to tell you to always be careful with smiling. It caused laugh lines. It helped make crows feet. That smiling was a woman’s secret enemy she never knew about when it came to aging. She told you over and over to be careful who or what you wasted smiles on. Smiling up at him now, Jungkook was definitely worth it just to see him respond with his own. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only, like, one planet away.” 

A soft hush of laughter left him as he looked away. His gaze roaming around the street signs and their multiple names before looking back at you. 

“Are we going the right way to your place? I just realized I never even asked for your address.”

“Does it matter? I mean, with your leg and all.” You hated yourself for spoiling the moment by bringing it up. You knew it was a touchy subject when it came to his leg for Jungkook. So you weren’t surprised to see that spark of warmth fade ever so slightly from his face. His smile wilted at the edges of his lips before it all but disappeared. “You know I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have. I mean obviously you know yourself and your limits. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t able to do it.”

You were rambling. You were fidgeting and waving your arms around while you talked, because why not? You were doing everything else besides hyperventilating at this point. All you knew was that you felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. When all you wanted was to know he was okay. 

You were so lost in the space inside your head and worrying that you didn’t notice him laughing at you. You were mid-arm swing. Inhaling for another round of mouth babble to start asking for forgiveness when he waved for you to stop. A finger tip landing on your lips to quiet the words in your throat by shocking you into silence.

“You really don’t have to apologize so much, Y/N. It’s alright. I understand why you would ask.”

You were tempted to lick his finger away, but it felt too intimate. But so was a finger on the lips. Before you could decide your next move from your internal dilemma, Jungkook solved it for you. His finger detaching from your lips as quickly as it’d come.

“No, you don’t. I’m just worried about you. I know I should trust you to know yourself better, but-“ you did an over exaggerated shrug as you finished: “I’m a worrier.” 

“I’m flattered, I have you to worry over me.”

You knew he was teasing you and you couldn’t have been happier. You preferred it to making him sad. Plus, he was back to looking at you like you controlled the stars and oh, what a wonderful look it was.

“You should be. I’ve only got so much extra space up here.”

You tapped your head for added effect and were rewarded with a soft laugh that was followed up by a smile. God, you could get used to this. 

“I guess I need to work harder to take up more space.”

“Please, no. Let’s not do that. I need my sanity.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing so well at flirting. Usually, your sarcasm won out and you resorted to awkward winking, but this was definitely an improvement. 

“I’m not sure you have much of that left either,” he joked. 

You tried to hide your laughter with a scoff. You knew you were failing miserably at being offended. Your mouth fighting too hard to ward off a smile as you playfully bumped your shoulder into his arm. Jungkook was ready for you with his cane digging into the sidewalk to give him extra stability. 

“Ya, if I do finally go crazy it’ll be your fault, specifically.” 

“I think you’d have a hard time proving that in court. My counter argument would be pretty persuasive.” 

You looked at him in shock. 

“Court? Wow...that escalated quickly.”

Jungkook nodded his reply. He stopped in front of a bookstore and pointed at a manga in the window. You weren’t too familiar with the title, but it's a cover you’d seen plenty of. 

“It would happen as quickly as an infection from a zombie’s bite. It would seem all slow until suddenly you jumped up and tried to eat me.” 

You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face as you glanced at him and back down to the manga. A part of you wondering if it was one he’d read before or just wanted to use to make his point. 

“Question: why are we together during a zombie outbreak?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I’ll be walking you home. I’ll try and save you and while feeling all heroic about it, I won’t even realize you’d been bitten until it’s too late.”

The two of you moved away from the bookstore window and began to walk back down the sidewalk. Your mind trying to dissect what he was trying to say, but all it left you with was imagining a zombie version of you trying to take a bite out of him. 

“You must watch too much Walking Dead.”

“It’s a good show,” he shrugged. 

“Did you know that there’s actually a fungus out there that’s sort of like a zombie infection. It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It basically infects the host and within nine days of infection it takes control of the host's body movements.”

You were still walking and looking around while you spoke. Your fingers running gently over a row of gardenia’s that were planted in carefully placed pots in front of someone’s home. You were aware Jungkook had left your side by the sudden coldness of his absence. You turned to look for him and found him standing a foot away from you. A mixture of astonishment and amusement etched on his face. 

“Why do you know something like that? Actually, how do you know something like that?”

His eyes were dancing with curiosity as he moved to fall back into step beside you. 

“Let’s just say I like to read. I like strange things and facts. And science is full of both facts and strange things.”

With each small statement you held up a finger. When you ended on the third and final small fact about yourself, you wiggled all three fingers at him. The motion earned you a giant smile that only seemed to grow wider as his head shook slightly back and forth. 

“You are the strangest girl.”

“How am I strange?”

“You just told me about a body snatching fungus,” he chuckled. “What other girl is going to do that?”

Jungkook had a point. A very strong point. For all your new found confidence when it came to him, you couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to your face. Or the back of your hands from trying to hide it. 

“I would tell you to stop being embarrassed but it’s cute when you blush.” 

The two of you came to a complete stop at the crosswalk. The red light blinking to tell you two it wasn’t safe to cross. It felt like a weird metaphor for this moment in your life. 

Stop! Do not keep staring back at him as if he strung every star in the sky. Stop! Don’t continue to entertain the thought that he looked like he wanted to kiss you or that you desperately wanted to kiss him back. Stop! Even though you already knew it was too late. 

You had plans. It’d all been strategically mapped out in your head until you could read it forwards and backwards to yourself. Do your best to graduate high enough in the percentage range to get into a decent college. Get a degree for a job, it didn’t matter what it was, that made enough money to help your parents. For all your careful planning, none of it had included him and yet, the universe had you both standing at a stoplight looking at each other like there couldn’t be any other reality where you weren’t meant to end up right here. Standing at this exact light and looking at one another like no one else existed. 

Luckily, the light changed signaling for you to begin to cross. The mass of bodies that had accumulated behind you began to push you both forward and, reluctantly, broke your gaze free from him. Your brain was scrambling to pick up a conversation you weren’t sure how to resurrect. Your mind too busy daydreaming all the scenarios you would’ve taken in different realities if you were braver. Clearing your throat, you did your best to wipe the thought clean and focus on your current reality.

“If it makes you feel better,” you started your body turning to consider him as you spoke, “the study was only ever done on the tropical ants that resided in the forest. The actual effects and what it could do to humans has never been studied. Yet. But I’m willing to bet it would take longer than nine days for it to take hold of a grown adult's nervous system and larger batches.”

He was looking at you in inspired mock horror. You weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Or if your unusual fact telling about zombie fungus had completely killed the mood. You got your answer in an excited hush of, “Holy shit it’s like you’re writing your own super villain backstory.” 

A smile erupted on your face as you playfully rolled your eyes away from him. It was hard to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes or the way his whole face still swam with the playfulness that lurked underneath his teasing. Jungkook was so alive. A force that required you to hang on or else you would get swept up in him without even realizing it’d happen. 

You wondered if this is what falling in love felt like. 

“I would make a terrible villain. I’m too clumsy,” you stated. Your weak attempt at downplaying yourself being met with a stern look. 

“How clumsy are we talking?”

“Hmm, I would say, ‘Kronk giving the llama potion to Kuzco,’ kind of clumsy.”

A hiss of air whistled between Jungkook’s teeth. A mock look of worry on his face as his hands moved to reposition his bag. 

“Can we call that clumsy, though?”

“What else would it be?” You asked. 

You could feel the lines grouping together in your forehead just trying to figure out what he was getting at. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in any rush to answer you. The two of you walking a few feet before he must have decided you’d waited long enough for him to reply. 

“I always thought Kronk was stupid throughout the whole movie, but really, he was just a good person. He’s a good guy tasked to do a bad thing and he just wants to make people happy. Even if it means doing the wrong thing.”

You wanted to ask if maybe he was talking more about himself than The Emperor’s New Groove at this point. He faced forward with his brow creased in deep thought and whatever it was that held his thoughts didn’t appear to be anything good. 

“Or,” you started, voice light enough to drag him out of his head, “it’s just a kids movie.”

Sure, Jungkook was looking at you, but he didn’t seem to actually see you. Somewhere inside his head, he was reenacting or seeing something that ate up all the sunshine that lived in his bones. It felt silly to feel a sense of panic about something that might not even be true. And yet, you couldn’t stop the awful thought that sadness was trying to make a home inside his soul. 

Without giving it another thought you reached up and pretended to wipe away a pretend rogue eyelash from his cheek. The suddenness of your fingers brushing on his skin jolted him from wherever his thoughts had held him hostage and back into the present. His eyes darted around your face and his own hand came up to gently take yours. 

“Sorry.” Your words came out breathy as you struggled not to focus on how he was practically holding your hand. “There was an eyelash. The wind must have blown it away.”

The earlier sadness that’d hollowed out his eyes was gone. What replaced it was one of knowing you weren’t telling the truth. His head tilted slightly down to inspect your empty finger of the proof you knew your words didn’t have whose eyes sparked with his usual teasing and something else. Something that left a different kind of heat flooding your cheeks. 

“I’m sure there was.”

Reluctantly, you removed your hand from his and continued to walk. It only took him a couple seconds to fall effortlessly into step beside you making you wonder if his leg was as injured as it seemed. 

A warm silence swelled around you as you continued to walk. A comfortable pace setting between you as he looked in the windows of every store you passed in between the changing streets. He never once asked if you were getting close to your home or how much farther it might be. It was like the moment on the back of the bus. The two of you enjoyed that the other was there without ever feeling the need to say it.

But you knew it was soon coming to an end. In only a few blocks, you’d be home and your fairytale moment would end. You were struggling on how to break this, more to yourself than Jungkook, when you noticed he pulled a Nikon camera from the side of his bag. He was squinting through the lens and taking photos of something up ahead. Of the landscape or the people and buildings that framed it you weren’t sure. 

He must have sensed your silent question as he snapped a few more quick photos before turning to acknowledge you. 

“Y/N, I have a serious question for you.”

It was hard to keep the amusement off your face as you both came to a stop. The place felt random, but it was anything but that to Jungkook. Whatever he saw in this space you both inhabited must have felt like magic to him. 

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Do you think we have enough time for me to take some photos?”

It felt like such an odd request. Why should anyone have to ask to do something that they loved? Jungkook didn’t fully say he loved doing it, but no one spent that much money on a nice camera if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing. The look on his face was just an added bonus of proving your answer meant something. One that made you wonder why he felt like he needed your permission at all. And then it hit you: he wanted to stay in your company while he did it. 

You considered teasing him, but he looked too vulnerable standing there. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. A pleading in his eyes that reminded you of a child asking a mother to go on just one more ride before they were forced to go home. You considered giving him the bad news that you had more than homework to do when you arrived home. But that could come another day. On this day, with him, you could spare an hour just to make him happy.

Instead of coming right out and letting him know you’d made up your mind, you decided to play coy. A soft, “Hmm,” hummed around you as you looked everywhere but him. Your index finger tapping on your lips for dramatic flare.

"Ok," You shrugged. "I think I have some free time I could spare."

His eyes squinted in question as you moved to stand in front of him. The movement simply to let a couple go by in peace, but somehow placed you closer in front of him. Jungkook’s gaze was roaming your face to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. 

“You planned on saying yes this whole time, didn’t you. You were just trying to make me suffer waiting for you to answer.”

You gasped in pretend shock and did your best not to smile at his accusations. By the growing smile on his face you knew you were failing miserably. 

“Me?! I would never do such a thing.”

“You’re secretly a sadist!”

Jungkook’s smile only widened as a scoff of disbelief passed from your lips. Your own smile grew to match his own when his hands lifted up his camera. Seconds later the sound of the shutter clicked and you felt your soul leave your body. The earlier playfulness was swiftly swept in your own dark cloud and the idea you probably looked hideous in that photo. 

“Oh god, Jungkook delete it,” you pleaded. 

Your hands were reaching out to grab tightly at this shirt. Your fingers curled in the white fabric until there was a small chance you could tear holes. The camera in question was being held far from your reach. His hand easily held it above his shoulder as he used one hand to steady you against him. You’d invaded his space without even realizing, but you had no time to be embarrassed. Not when he had a picture of you forever saved on that camera. 

“Why would I delete it?”

He was his usual amused self you could tell, but he wasn’t egging you on. His question was out of curiosity. His own eyes brimming with it as you considered keeping one hand tightly wound in his shirt and the other to jump up and reach for the camera. 

“Because Jungkook I’m not cute. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin the camera.”

All his earlier playfulness drained from his face and what was left made you instantly feel like you were about to be scolded. His hand that had firmly planted itself on your hip was achingly apparent now as his fingers gripped you closer to him. Your own awareness at how close you actually were to his chest made your lips feel dry. Your tongue flicked out to wet them and god, it took everything in you not to focus on the fact his eyes had followed the movement. 

“Y/N, why would you say that? You shouldn’t let anyone talk down about you, and you shouldn’t do it to yourself either. You’re beautiful.”

He spoke like it was a fact. A statement that not just the two of you knew, but the universe did too. And what were you supposed to say back? While you were held captive to the thought he was still looking from you to your lips. The determination for you to understand his words and believe them setting soft lines in his face. You tried to keep looking at him, but under his watchful gaze you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting. Your eyes moved down the line of his body until it landed on the tops of your shoes. 

You weren’t sure what to say back. Thank you didn’t fit here. It didn’t feel like a moment where he was trying to boost your confidence the way a friend did. This felt more like someone who noticed something in you while you hadn’t been looking. 

So instead of saying anything remotely clever back you began to dislodge yourself from him. Your hands releasing their hold on his shirt and forcing his hand off of your hip. Standing there with only inches between you, your body was achingly aware that his hand was gone. It’s weight leaving a burning of longing to have it back forced your hands into your pockets and your body turning away from him. You waited for him to start moving back down the road. The motion forced him to either join you or stay where he was. 

“We should get going before we run out of time.”

You hated yourself for dismissing him. For not being bolder like you’d promised yourself earlier in the day. It would’ve been the perfect time to thank him. To tell him how you were pretty sure there wasn’t a soul on earth more attractive than him, but that what made him beautiful is what he refused to let people see. The soft tone of his voice still singing along to the songs on the back of the bus had ended up being an unspoken lullaby when you’d gone to sleep. 

A part of you considered turning on your heel and telling him this. To tell him that you saw him; actually saw him for who he was and not who he felt like he needed to be. But you just kept moving forward and weren’t surprised when Jungkook found a steady rhythm back beside you. 

The both of you stayed quiet. This time it felt more forced than the easiness of earlier. Like the two of you had so many missed starts at creating a conversation that neither of you could understand why it ended.

You watched him as he focused on the area around him. His camera training on an old couple who sat waiting for the next bus. The husband had clutched his wife’s arm close to his side. In his hands he was peeling what appeared to be an orange and with each freshly peeled slice, he gave one to her and one to himself. No one knew what they were conversing about, but it didn’t matter. To them, they were the only two people there. The wholesomeness of the moment made you wonder what they were like back in their youth. 

You listened to the flutter of the shutter click repeatedly. His hand twisting on the lens to bring it in and out of focus, while he himself remained deadly focused on capturing their moment in time. You were curious how the photos would turn out in the end and wished there was a way to show them how their love translated on film. 

You were in the middle of watching Jungkook turn his attention to a couple birds inside a cherry blossom when he spoke.

“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me while I do this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook.”

A sad smile curled his lips as he dropped his camera down in front of him. His thumb skimmed over the buttons to quickly go through what he’d previously taken. The last one he landed on made his entire face light up and you felt a pang of jealousy at what it could be. How you wish he would look at you like that. 

“Maybe, but I feel like I do. Ever since my accident, my appa hasn’t been able to force me into things. For once, I get to just do what I want. Sucks it only had to cost me a friend and a leg to get some freedom.”

Your feet had carried you to the next stop sign. The sudden halt in moving forced you to look at him, really look at Jungkook, like you’d never seen him before. 

He wasn’t looking at you now. His ears a screaming red while his fingers danced over every part of the camera. His eyes roaming over its edges and flicking too fast through pictures to actually even be looking at them. For the first time since you’d met him Jungkook was scared to look at you. Scared for what you might see if you did. 

Looking at him now, you couldn’t have been happier to indulge him. You’d indulge him for the rest of your life if he’d let you. 

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”

You mentally smacked yourself at your choice of words. Jungkook, however, was backing to his beaming self as he finally glanced in your direction. His eyeing ate up your embarrassment as it was your turn to face forward. Your feet hopping in place as you waited for the light to flash it was okay to walk. 

“I’m supposed to be at physical therapy right now.”

“Wait, what?”

The light was flickering finally for you to all move. Your feet moved to carry you forward unintentionally, just to keep with the flow of traffic, as Jungkook gave you a small shrug for an answer. 

“Did you say you were supposed to be at physical therapy?”

Another shrug and another long pause with no answer. It seemed he had been waiting for you to round the corner onto a quieter pedestrian free street before he replied, “After school. I have appointments almost everyday and I never go.” 

“But why? It’s meant to help you get better, isn’t it?”

“Get better to do what, exactly?” He huffed. Jungkook’s entire body took on a broodier tone. His cane practically dug small holes with each press into the pavement. “Who even says that I can get better?”

“Well, doctors for one,” you pointed out. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have signed you up for it if they didn’t believe you could get better.” 

“If I was going to get better it would’ve happened already.”

It felt like walking on eggshells. This side of Jungkook was the boy you’d met on his first day of class. His guarded demeanor up on high alert, as he kept his gaze stoically forward and his chin held high. 

“You’re not an idiot, Jungkook. You know injuries take time to heal from. It doesn't just magically happen overnight.”

“Who says that I want to get better?”

The coldness in his words forced your legs to stop working. Your feet were unable to move as he continued to push on ahead of you. His own movements became slower now as the long walk was beginning to take its toll on his leg. He knew you weren’t beside him anymore and still he tried to keep pushing forward, before eventually he had no other choice but to turn around. 

The look on his face was as defiant as ever. Underneath that defiance was a sadness so raw you only wanted to reach out and hold him. If just to remind him that he was seen and that his pain mattered.

That’s when the realization hit you.

“Unless you feel like you deserve this.”

The stone façade he’d worked so hard to create in the past few minutes began to chip. His eyes being the first to show by the soft uprising of tears that you were right. Somewhere deep inside Jungkook believed that he deserved what happened to him. That this was punishment for losing a friend at his own hands, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

The tears that threatened to spill never did, but they were there. They floated dangerously at the surface of Jungkook’s control and he refused to let go. The rawness of his pain hit you and all you wanted was to help ease it. You weren’t sure if he would accept any kind of affection, even in a small hug. So your only option was to move closer to him. As close as he would allow without pushing you away. 

With each step you could see his jaw clenching tighter; pulsing like he was fighting from saying something wicked to send you skirting back. He was just as afraid of what you were about to do as you were at being the one to do it. 

When the tips of your shoes nudged against his you drew your eyes up until they landed on his. A spark of something; fear or uncertainty, flashed in his eyes. Was he expecting you to be cruel? To yell at him to stop being a child and to grow up? How much had he already heard those words shouted by adults? How long had he been standing there like this, in a world full of grief, and no one there to pull him out to breathe before the next wave suffocated him once more. 

You weren’t sure if it was you or if what you said would matter, but it was important he heard it. It was important he knew that this was okay too. 

“You got to forgive yourself sometime, Jungkook.”

The words themselves were simple. Simple and spoken between you as if there was a secret meant only for the two of you to hear. All you really wanted was for him to feel the sincerity of your words for him to know it was okay. Okay to feel sad, unsure, and helpless at times when all the world felt against you. It was okay to not know your first steps and okay to take those first steps when you were ready. Eventually, we needed to forgive, if only to give ourselves the chance to heal and move on. 

His gaze was still misty with unshed tears and still they refused to fall. The pain and defiance that had turned his features harsh began to soften. All that hardness he struggled to keep himself in and others out was beginning to fade and the only thing left was him. All that sunshine that you’d seen lived in his smile and echoed in his laughter that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. The way he cared for others and making them feel cared for. The softness of his singing and the way he eagerly filmed people at their most vulnerable: at their most beautiful. 

It was at this moment you felt your universe shift and tip until it realigned itself. With your fingers back to holding the edges of his shirt it took everything in you not to close those final inches and hug him. Jungkook closed that distance for you instead. 

His lips crashing down on your cheeks causing a soft squeak of surprise to push free from your lips. A chuckle came as he came back into view and your mind struggled to comprehend what happened. 

It wasn’t a kiss on the lips but…

“Did you just kiss my cheek?”

Your hand was up to the aforementioned spot. A wicked smile wiping away all of his sadness until you weren’t sure if it had been real at all or if you’d imagined it. 

“I could kiss your lips if you’d like that instead.” 

If your cheeks could get any hotter you could’ve fried food on them. You felt a surge of disappointment when Jungkook took a reluctant step back from you as his eyes dropped to check the time on his phone.

“As much as I hate to say this: I have to go.”

“All of the sudden you have to go,” you huffed. 

Your words felt brave, but inside your heart was thundering wildly against your chest. 

“I could stay if you want?”

Smoother than expected, Jungkook slid his way back to you. His chest bumping against you making you lose your footing just enough that it forced you to grab on to his shirt. Jungkook’s own hand had moved behind your back to steady you and bring you closer to him all at once. 

You playfully smacked his chest and earned a soft laugh from him. Unfortunately, you found yourself peeling away from him. Your hands grasping at the strap of your bag to keep them from reaching back out for him. 

“Not a chance.”

Your reply earned a playful pout from him as he started walking backwards away from you. 

“I’ll remember that, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to start walking the rest of the way home. You didn’t get more than a few feet before he called back to you. Your eyes found him instantly in a crowd of people that continued to pass in front of him.

“I forgot to ask: what’s your number!”

He held up a pen expecting you to come back to him and write it down presumably on his arm or hand. You didn’t see any paper and could only assume. You knew it was all just a ploy to get you to come to him. The knowledge evident by the wicked grin on his face. 

“You’re a math wiz, right?” Jungkook was perplexed for a second before you started reciting your number as loud as you were willing to shout it. The wind blew it away as he no doubt struggled to listen. 

“Wow! What a way to play dirty.”

“If it’s meant to be you’ll figure it out.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe you both had a chance to write your own love story like from the movies and shows you used to watch with your mom. Like Rose and Jack from Titanic or Ross and Rachel...okay...maybe more like Chandler and Monica. Or maybe you were an idiot and should’ve just gone and wrote it down. It was too late now as he was already on the other side of the street. 

You were ready to walk the rest of the way kicking yourself for being so lame when you heard him call your name again. When you turned you didn’t expect him to be trotting across the road. You didn’t expect him to stop in front of you and give you another quick kiss on the cheek, this one gentler than before, with every fiber of your body remembering just how soft his lips felt. 

“I could fall in love with you, ya know.”

You watched as in the same breath he hopped back across the street and couldn’t help but think you already had. 

————-

Later that night you were snuggled up inside the sheets of your bed. The only thing sticking out was the current book you were reading and the top of your head. 

You hadn’t heard from Jungkook the rest of the day. Your heart hammered inside your chest every time your phone chimed with a new message only to deflate when you realized it wasn’t him. You loved your friends and all, but they weren’t who you’d been looking forward to all evening. 

Maybe you should’ve just gone to him and written down your number. Like a normal human being would’ve done. You just had to be clever and yell it out like a lunatic. For all you knew, you could end up with a random stranger texting you at all hours. 

Your current book that you were supposed to be reading but couldn’t really read because you couldn’t focus was now face planted onto your nose. A soft groan echoing into its pages as you fought not to close it and throw it somewhere in your room. You were a hundred percent sure you’d read the same sentence a few dozen times at this point. 

In the morning, you decided, you most definitely were just going to write it down. Like a sane person would’ve done. You closed your book and placed it down beside you. Your eyes roaming up to stare at your ceiling and wondering if you were ever actually going to go to sleep when your phone chimed off. 

You weren’t in any hurry to look. It could just be your parents from the restaurant making sure you were in bed. It could be one of your friends asking about making plans this weekend. It was probably still everyone but Jungkook and yet…

Your curiosity got the better of you. You shuffled inside your comforter, reached an arm out to grab your phone from the nightstand, and quickly pulled it back inside. You waited for your facial ID to unlock the screen to see who or what you’d received. Your own mind hyping up the suspense of the moment until it read over a reminder text from your dad about your chores for the upcoming weekends. 

You hated you’d let yourself have even a glimmer of hope. It was official. You’d ruined your chances when it came to giving out your number. A groan was creeping its way up your throat as you quickly sent back a text. You knew your chores took over almost every weekend. Even when you’d made plans with friends, you’d ended up never going. 

As soon as you’d hit send you were rolling over to put your phone back on your nightstand. The shrill sound of pinging messages stopped you cold. There was no way your dad had learned to text back that fast. You laid yourself flat back against the mattress and brought the phone to hover above your face. 

Y/N?

Is this the right number finally? 

Hello?!!

If this is the wrong person, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not crazy. Just looking for a girl. 

Your heart leapt into your throat. It was beating so hard you were scared it would burst from your chest. Your eyes were still skimming over the line of text messages when another one sounded. You were so caught up in reading the next line you weren’t aware your clammy fingers had let the phone slip and it crash landed down on your face. 

“Ooow!”

One hand scrambled to pick it back up off your face, while the other massaged the now swelling brim of your nose. 

How many people have you texted before me?

There wasn’t a need to send a hi. To give him a coy response to continue to tease him or make him believe he’d gotten it wrong again. Your curiosity at the desperate way he seemed to have been looking for you was endearing. The thought that he’d spent so much time sending out random messages for a response, no matter how crazy he looked, felt silly but cute too. 

Jungkook thought you were worth the trouble. 

OH MY GOD IS IT REALLY YOU?! And maybe like... seventeen. 

You snuggled deeper into your comforter as a soft giggle joined the growing smile across your face. 

I’m sorry I should have just wrote it down when you offered the pen lol

It definitely would’ve made it a lot easier.

You’d asked yourself that question all evening while you’d waited for him. You bit your lips as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Unsure if you should take the chance and tell him. 

“Screw it,” you whispered as you typed. 

Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting forever. 

Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. This girl thought it was a good idea to shout random numbers at me 😅😂.

Your head was shaking as you tried to figure out something witty to say. You couldn’t believe you were here. Inside your comforter cave smiling at your phone like a lunatic and wondering if maybe Jungkook was doing the same. Or what was he even doing? You were getting ready to type out that exact question when your phone pinged to life. 

So, ugh, on to more important matters. It read. I was thinking about your love of random facts and I think I got one for you. 

Ooooooo kekeke this should be good 

Do you want to know it or not? 

Okay okay! Lol please tell me Kookie

You could practically feel him screaming through your phone as a sideways glance emoji was sent back in a long lined response. You wondered if you’d completely ruined his fact telling when your phone went off. 

I found this article that said the chances of finding your soulmate out of 500,000,000 people was impossible. But, if you just place it to where you are, to your age group, and timing it narrows it down to a 1 in 10,000 chance. What I’m trying to get at is...I think your my 1 in 10,000

You read the message on repeat. Over and over until you were sure you’d practically memorized it front and back. You wanted to ask him for his source material. Where such an article could exist. None of that really mattered to you and how could it? 

You must have spaced out because you never sent him a reply. Your thoughts were still spinning in a world all their own as you wondered if he was sitting at his desk doing homework or lying in bed. If he was inside or outside and what had made him so brave to send that message: believing you felt the same. 

The vibration of the phone brought you back down to earth. You expected to see question marks or another line of, “Hello?” To have left him on read. Instead, the only thing that greeted you was a simple, Goodnight, Y/N. 

This time there was no hesitation from you. 

Goodnight, Jungkook

See you in the morning ?

His text felt so hopeful. A silent undertone that if you said no there was a chance you’d break him. You bit your lip as you thought about what this meant. The beginning of small promises that eventually grew into bigger ones. 

I’ll meet you at the gate

You both finished up with another round of good night’s that felt like the embarrassing texting equivalent of “no you hang up! No you!” And placed your phone back on your night stand. It took forever for the sandman to finally claim you. Your dreams consisting of the magic of being Jungkook’s 1 in 10,000. 

[yumeyooa]

bippity-boppity bloom: act one | todoroki shoto

—everyone knows the story of cinderella, saved by a prince and a glass slipper. but what if the true hero wasn’t the prince, but rather the fairy god mother? todoroki shoto has been suffering under the hands of his wicked family his whole life, yet everything changes when he meets you: a fairy forced to take care of him as punishment. will the odds be in your favor? or will everything go down from here on out?

➢  pairing: todoroki shoto x female! reader

➢ genre: fluff | angst | fairy tale au | supernatural au | strangers to lovers au | cinderella au | cinderella! todoroki | fairy god mother! reader | rated 17 | sfw

➢ word count: 15.2k+

➢  warning: she/her pronouns for reader | beatings | domestic abuse | insults | bruises | injuries | bullying | mentions of blood and broken bones | mentions of murder and death | the todoroki family is really evil | i also changed up the birth order for the family | please please don’t read if these bother you; it gets really dark :(

➢ love letter: henlo!! i am late but this is for @milktyama​ ‘s once upon an alternative universe collab!! originally this was supposed to be a one-shot, but i eventually realized that it would be better if this was split into two! although most of the romance comes in the second part T_T i hope you like it and let me know what you think!! 

➢ taglist (send an ask to be tagged): @loveinhaikyuu​ @mirakeul​ @strcwberrieswine​ @kunaigirlx44​ @maxzinn @faewraithsworld​ 

navigation | anime masterlist | act two

Magic was a curious thing. 

Since the dawn of time, people have used magic to describe the unknown, to give meaning to the things they could not explain. That quarter you lost suddenly showing up at your feet? Magic. An electric jolt shooting through your veins after coming into contact with another? Magic. Flowers blooming amidst the cold winter? Magic. 

No matter where you went or what you did, magic was everywhere. It hid itself from the world, waiting in silence for those who would come to know the beauty of it. Those who would cherish it with all their heart and soul and would never abuse it for their own selfish gain. 

To the rest of the world, magic was something they could only wish to find.

But the true secret of magic remained hidden in the arms of those who could wield it. 

“Don’t tell me you’re pranking someone again?” An exasperated sigh calls from behind you, and you turn around, startled to find a young man with deep violet hair haphazardly framing his face. He was staring at you with an unimpressed look as if he had gone through this exact situation plenty of times in the past, and from the way you sheepishly smile back at him, he probably had. 

“Me? Pranking Someone? Why I would never!” You exclaim, faking innocence as the man gives you a knowing look, causing a groan to fall from your lips as you heave a sigh, throwing a playful glare back his way. 

“Oh, come on, Hitoshi!” You whine, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. “What harm can one prank do? It’s not even that bad!”

“Must I remind you what happened that one time you decided to prank Elder Aizawa?” You freeze in your place, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “He nearly convinced the council of elders to have you banished to the human realm! Do you not understand how grave that could have been?”

You remain silent, sulking. As much as you hated to admit it, your best friend had a point. To fairies, being banished was like a death sentence. Without any support from the all-powerful tree of life, a fairy would wither away and die just like that. It was scary to even think about it, and you were lucky that Hitoshi had somehow managed to save you from that terrible predicament. 

From the very beginning, you had always been considered a peculiarity amongst the other fairies. Whereas they were graceful and elegant, you were clumsy and awkward. Where they excelled in soft chatter and gentle smiles, you reveled in chaos and the undignified. 

You were an outcast amongst the fairies, but you honestly couldn’t blame them. 

Fairies were the keepers of magic, after all. They were expected to uphold a particular image befitting of being wielders of the most sacred entity provided by the tree of life. Fairies were supposed to be noble and delicate. They were supposed to hold their heads up high as protectors of the supernatural. That very image, however, didn’t suit you at all. 

You never understood it. Why did they take pride in being so uptight? It was boring. There was no freedom in upholding the elegance of their kind through every single thing they did. They seemed so bare as if being a fairy sucked all the life out of them. Which was ironic, considering they were supposed to be protectors of the tree of life. 

“—(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me? Hello?” You snap out of your trance, looking at your friend who was staring at you with a nonchalant look on his face. Hitoshi has always been a rather unique character, even to you. He didn’t explicitly fit into the stereotypical image of a fairy, yet he was never ostracized for it. It was as if he was an exception— an anomaly from the harsh judgment of the fairy realm. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You ask, trying to come off as if you were paying attention when in all actuality, you weren’t. Hitoshi sighs, rolling his eyes playfully as he ruffles your head, messing up your hair in the process, causing a grunt of protest to fall from your lips. He sits beside you on the ledge you were perched atop on, staring down at the crowd of fairies below. 

The two of you were apprentices to the council of elders, helping them ensure that there was order amongst the fairies. Order was essential for the protectors of the tree of life because, without it, chaos would ensue, and the world, no, the entire universe, would fall apart. The council of elders was the supreme government of the fairy world, and to be an apprentice to even one of them, was a great honor and responsibility. 

You just hated all the expectations that came with it. 

“What kind of prank were you supposed to play this time?” Hitoshi asks, humming as he stares up at the sky above you. You stare at the wand in your hand, puffing your cheeks in disappointment at the realization that you wouldn’t be able to pull the prank off anymore. 

“Nothing much,” you mutter. “Just wanted to test out some new spells I learned the other day, and I figured why not test it out on some… unsuspecting figures.”

“(Y/N),” Hitoshi says, voice stern as if he were a mother reprimanding his child. You huff, pout forming on your lips. “You know that if any of the other elders were to find out, they’d have your apprenticeship stripped away. What would you do then?”

You stay silent, the truth in Hitoshi’s words stinging painfully, more than it should. He was right. Shunned away from your family since your coming of age, the council of elders was the only one who had accepted you, albeit reluctantly. No fairy wanted to be associated with an outcast after all. It would only tarnish that pure image they had crafted into perfection, and as prideful beings, they couldn’t have that. 

If it wasn’t for Elder Yagi, the most influential fairy in the realm, then you would have been left for dead. Elder Yagi was the definition of the perfect fairy. He wasn’t just delicate and graceful on the surface; he was kind and compassionate within. Although many disagreed with his views on accepting those who didn’t fit into society’s expectations, they could never truly go against him. Because that would be like going against the very essence of fairies, after all. 

So they kept their malice and disdain a secret, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and if you weren’t careful, then their next victim would be you. 

“The elders are calling for you,” Hitoshi says out of the blue, causing your blood to run cold. You stare at him with a shocked expression on your face, and you couldn’t deny the fear that was beginning to bubble within. “Elder Aizawa sent me to look for you. Said they requested your presence immediately.”

There’s a solemn look on Hitoshi’s face, and you can tell beyond the surface that he’s worried. Being called upon by the council of elders meant only one of two things to a fairy: it was either they were to be punished, or they were to be rewarded. And you had done nothing of the sort to deserve a just reward. 

You chuckle, looking down at your lap, not knowing what to say. You didn’t understand why what you did was so wrong. Why were they trying to punish you when all you wanted was to bring life into this otherwise dull place? No matter how hard they tried to hide it, some fairy children enjoyed your pranks, and the thought of bringing smiles to their faces was what kept you going. 

You just didn’t expect to get severely punished for it, though. 

“Thanks for telling me, Hitoshi,” you say, standing up, a fake smile plastered on your face in an attempt to seem as if his recent news didn’t bother you as much as it did. “Guess I better get going then, wouldn’t want Elder Aizawa to scold me for being late again.”

Hitoshi remains silent, staring up at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a sigh, standing up and ruffling your hair once more. “Stop putting up a brave face, idiot. It doesn’t suit you.” You want to protest but can’t find the courage to do so, remaining silent as the smile falls from your face. “Come on, I’ll accompany you there.”

Shocked, you look up at him, features clearly showing your surprise. “What?” He asks, scoffing. “You really think I wouldn’t accompany you to your death? You know that I’d kill to see it happen in front of my very eyes.”

You know he’s joking, trying to lighten up the mood because the nerves running through you are too much to handle. But even so, you’re grateful for it. Despite not being outright honest about it, Hitoshi still cared. He had cared for you ever since you called out one of the other fairies for calling him a disgrace the moment you first met. He had stuck with you through thick and thin and had been the only fairy to believe in you, aside from Elder Yagi. 

And you couldn’t be any more grateful for it. 

“Weirdo,” you call, a genuine smile forming on your lips, Hitoshi reflecting his own, albeit his was a lot less noticeable. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down the nerves that were thrumming deep beneath your skin, and nod to Hitoshi, the two of you teleporting just outside the auditorium of the council of elders. 

You had always hated the auditorium. It was a dark and scary place, dimly lit, with all of the elders present atop a high porch, staring down at you like you were some inferior being to them. Whenever you were in the dark room, assisting the elders in their work, you always felt the paranoia creep up against you, begging you to just run and leave the room, even when there was no immediate danger present. 

That was the effect the council of elders had always possessed since the beginning— intimidation. And you hated them for it. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the raging waves of nervousness that were thrashing wildly deep inside you. You’re shaking. You can see it in the way your hands shiver as you reach out to place a knock on the wooden doors, hesitating. 

“You’ll be fine,” Hitoshi whispers, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here, yeah?” 

It’s comforting. Hitoshi isn’t one for words and prefers to show his care through subtle actions, but you know he means well. Taking another deep breath, you give your best friend a weak smile, knocking on the doors, heart heavy.

Like magic, they open, and a deep “come in” calls out to you, causing you to gulp as you nod one final time to Hitoshi before entering the auditorium, with a hopeful heart dangling on the edge of light and darkness. 

The Council of Elders truly had a knack for intimidation, you think to yourself as you stare up at the seven fairies that governed the world you had come to know. They sat atop their seats (which looked more like thrones, in your opinion), staring down at you with glares on their faces. 

While you had expected their hostility towards you, as you didn’t exactly have the best reputation amongst their apprentices, you were surprised that even Elder Yagi, your mentor, and father figure, was looking at you with a disappointed gaze. What was going on? What had you done wrong?

It’s then, amidst your confusion, that your eyes land on another figure present in the room. The very presence of this figure makes your blood boil in anger, and you try to suppress it with deep breaths, closing your eyes to calm yourself before meeting eyes with the said figure. 

Neito. Oh, how you despised the man. Neito was one of your fellow apprentices who served the Council of Elders, specifically Elder Sekijiro, who was in charge of the vanguard— the elite force of fairies that specialized in defense, ensuring that there was peace and order in the world. 

While it was an honorable position, Neito was not an honorable man in the slightest. Ever since you had met him, he had been mean and downright evil, taunting you every chance he got. He was the very reason you had gotten into trouble, multiple times, with the council. He was your mortal enemy, your archnemesis, the man you wished would fall into a puddle of shit and never come back the same. 

If he was there in the room, then it only meant one thing. He had ratted you out or had made up some ridiculous story to use against you. 

Typical. 

Oh, how you wished you could wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face. 

“(Y/N),” a voice booms and your eyes turn up to meet Grand Elder Nezu, the elder amongst all elders, the wisest and most potent fairy ever known (much to the disbelief of everyone else, as compared to Elder Yagi, Elder Nezu looked weak. But, you supposed, you shouldn’t judge someone based on appearance alone). 

“I bow towards the Council of Elders,” you greet, bowing in respect. Your heart thrummed nervously within you, not sure what to think of this summon. What were they going to reprimand you for this time?

“Are you aware of the reason you’ve been summoned here today?” Grand Elder Nezu asks, looking at you with calculating eyes. You gulp, not knowing how to proceed, but figured that in a situation like this, honesty was the best policy. “Unfortunately, no, Grand Elder,” you reply, eyes cast down in respect. “I have an idea, but even so, I am still clueless to the true reason as to why I’ve been summoned.”

“Ha!” Neito exclaims, scoffing. “Look at how shameless she is, Grand Elder. Pretending to not know when she knows exactly what she’s done?” 

“I beg your pardon?” You ask, feeling yourself get annoyed the more Neito stood there all high and mighty as if he were some chosen one. “I speak the truth, elders. I truly have no idea why I’ve been summoned….”

“Lies!” Neito accuses, pointing a finger at you. “How can you be so shameless after attacking me?”

You pause, blinking slowly as you try to process the ridiculous claim Neito had just presented. You? Attacking him? As much as you despised the guy, you knew that attacking another fairy was absolutely forbidden for an apprentice of the council of elders. You weren’t stupid. 

“Attacking you?” You ask in disbelief. “When have I ever attacked you, Neito?” 

You watch with cautious eyes as Neito smirks at you, eyes taunting as if you had played right into his trap. He grabs the hem of his dress shirt before pulling it up to reveal a massive bruise on his torso. 

“You did this,” he accuses, and you can tell he’s faking it, although judging by the harsh glare you’re receiving from Elder Sekijiro, his act is actually believable. Were the elders really that vulnerable? “You attacked me because you were jealous of my achievements!”

You gape at him, not believing your eyes at the pure monstrosity that was the situation you were facing him. What kind of story was this? There was no way that the council of elders actually believed him, right? Their view of you wasn’t that bad, right?

“(Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu calls, eyes stern. “Is this true?” 

“Of course not, Grand Elder!” You exclaim in protest. “What reason do I have to be jealous of Neito?”

“Don’t listen to her lies, Grand Elder!” Neito says. With the way he was acting, you swear he could get an award for being the worst and best actor of all time, and you yourself weren’t sure how that was possible. “In fact, the question we should be asking is what reason does she have to not be jealous of me? She’s an outcast. She’s been shunned by society for so long. Everyone knows she hates my guts— although I do not understand why as I’ve been nothing but nice to her— so why would she not want to sabotage me when she sees me excel?”

Scratch that best actor award, you think to yourself. The darn idiot deserved an award for being an expert manipulator. If you didn’t know better, if you weren’t sure of your truth, you would have been swayed by his words, second-guessing yourself and questioning whether or not you did attack him. But unluckily for Neito, you were one stubborn fairy, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

“You? Nice to me?” you say, seething, much to the shock of everyone in the room. “Grand Elder, what Neito is saying is absolutely preposterous! Yes, it is true that I hate his guts, but that’s because ever since I’ve been an apprentice, he’s made my life a living hell! And besides, this apprenticeship is all I have. If I do anything to jeopardize it, I would have nowhere to go; I’d basically be dead. Why would I risk it because of one person? And Neito, for that matter!”

You honestly didn’t mean to let your emotions slip like that. But you couldn’t help it. It infuriated you that the council would be willing to believe Neito. Neito who had everything, who had a choice to leave or not, who had a family to return to. Neito who didn’t understand how much pain you were going through, how much torment plagued your heart. He didn’t and would never understand. That’s what privilege does to a person. 

“Grand Elder—” Neito begins, and you swear if he spits any more lies, you would genuinely launch at him and smack him in the face. But before you could make a move, the Grand Elder raises his hand, causing silence to settle in the room. 

“—Enough.” Grand Elder Nezu’s voice booms throughout the empty room, causing the two of you to halt in your banter, bowing in shame and obedience. “The council has heard both sides and are appalled by the disgrace exuded by both fairies, especially you young Neito.” 

You can see the way Neito clenches his fist, glaring at the ground below him, and you can almost imagine the way he thinks the floor is your head, glaring daggers at it for causing him to be criticized by the grand elder of all fairies. But that was the least of your concerns, as you can feel their disappointed glances lying on you as well. 

“For your misconduct, both of you will receive punishment. However, young (Y/N), because of your alleged behavior and misdeeds, we will have to take extra precautions to ensure that this does not happen again.” You can feel your heart beating rapidly within your chest. What kind of punishment was he going to give? You hoped you weren’t going to get banished because you couldn’t stand the thought of not having to see the people you cherished ever again. 

But whatever the council says, goes, and no fairy, no matter how powerful they were in society, could deny their final verdict. 

“For your punishment, young Neito, you will be serving under Elder Aizawa until the Purification Ceremony next fall.” From where you stood, you could see Neito jolt up in fear, eyes pleading with the Grand Elder silently, as if he were begging them to give him any other punishment instead. 

Elder Aizawa was the dean of the academy all fairies were expected to graduate from. And, as a dean should, he was incredibly strict and was known for ruling over his apprentices with an iron fist. Amongst all the elders of the council, he was the one most hoped to avoid serving under, and if you were sent to serve under him, then it meant that you had done something extremely bad. 

Although, sometimes you could hardly believe those rumors, considering Hitoshi himself served under Elder Aizawa. But perhaps that was because the said elder treated Hitoshi like he was his own son, much like Elder Yagi did to you. 

As much as Neito wanted to protest, to exclaim how preposterous it was for a fairy from the noble family of Monoma to not serve through the vanguard, he couldn’t. The elders’ eyes pierced through him, and it was incredibly nerve-wracking once he felt the menacing glare of Elder Sekijiro on him. Even his own master thought he deserved to be punished. What a shame. 

With his head bowed low, Neito grits his teeth, bowing towards the council. “I humbly accept this punishment bestowed upon me by the Council of Elders and pledge to fulfill it until I am deemed worthy once more.” His words contain malice, and you can tell he was trying to control himself from lashing out and making the situation even worse. It was a blow to his pride, after all, that he would get punished after trying to bring someone ‘beneath’ him down. 

Just as he’s about to take his leave, he stops beside you, and it almost feels as if he’s glaring at your soul, cursing it for the things you’ve done to him, although reality has proved that you’ve done nothing wrong. “Just you wait,” he whispers, low enough for only you to hear. “I’ll get you back someday,” and then he leaves, closing the wooden doors shut behind him. 

The silence that envelopes the auditorium is uncanny, you think to yourself. Maybe it was because you were still getting the chills from the words Neito had whispered into your ear. Or perhaps it was because of the unreadable yet at the same time uncomfortable stares the council was throwing your way. Either way, the silence made you want to drown. To hide in the comforts of your room and stay there until the coast was clear. 

“Young (Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu begins, and you gulp, hoping for the best yet expecting the worst. “As for your punishment, you will be reassigned to another group of apprentice fairies under my guidance— the god fairies.”

What?

...God Fairies?

Grand Elder Nezu smiles softly at the look on your face before clearing his throat and continuing, trusting that you would be able to keep up with him. In his eyes, you were a rather intelligent fairy after all. Strange, but brilliant nonetheless. 

“The God Fairies are a special elite force of apprentices under my supervision. It’s composed of fairies deemed problematic by the standards of our society and utilizes their uniqueness to serve our realm for the better good.”

You wanted to scoff. Rather than an elite force, it sounded like a group of slaves forced to listen to the Grand Elder, with an even more severe punishment dangling above their heads. A suiting sentence disguised as an honor. 

“I know what you’re thinking, young (Y/N),” Grand Elder Nezu says with a knowing look. “However, this elite force is infinitely more important than any other group in the fairy realm, as they help sustain our influence over the humans.”

Confused, you look up to him, a million questions dancing within your eyes. Influence over humans? What exactly did he mean by that? Back at the academy, the older fairies had always taught you that humans and fairies never, under any circumstance, interacted with each other. It was forbidden. Interacting with humans was too dangerous as they were greedy and vile beings who would only seize magic for their own selfish gain should they even catch one whiff of it. 

Magic was not meant to fall into human hands. That was just the way the world worked. So why was the Grand Elder telling you otherwise?

“The God Fairies help ensure that the humans’ belief in magic remains strong,” Grand Elder Nezu continues, even though you were still trying to comprehend what he had said prior. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Being the Grand Elder had numerous responsibilities involved, and those responsibilities waited for no one, not even him. 

“You see, young (Y/N), as the years have passed, we, the council, have come across an alarming discovery,” you look up to the council tentatively, choosing to merely listen as trying to process their words in real time was proving to be complicated. “The tree of life that we have grown to cherish for over a millennium has weakened.”

A soft gasp leaves your lips, and rightfully so. The tree of life was the lifeline of the fairies. It was literally their world, giving life to everything they had ever come to know. The tree of life was what made fairies, fairies, providing them with their gorgeous translucent wings and copious amount of magic to have every other supernatural being out there jealous. 

If it were to weaken and somehow die, then that would mean the end of the fairies. And that was a thought even more terrifying than the prospect of banishment. 

“Fear not, young (Y/N),” This time, Elder Yagi decides to speak up, sensing the inherent panic and fear in your eyes. Elder Yagi always had a knack for reading your emotions, much like Hitoshi. Sometimes you wondered if that chalked up to you wearing your heart on your sleeve for everyone else to easily trample over, but that hadn’t been the case the more you got to know Elder Yagi and Hitoshi. 

They both took your heart within their arms and cherished it like it was their own, even if the way they showed that care differed and was sometimes unnoticeable. Elder Yagi’s words, masked by his usual patriotic smile, were his way of comforting you when the going got rough. And for that, you would forever be thankful.

“We’ve discovered a new way to harness the magic we fairies so desperately need,” Elder Yagi continues, his smile never leaving. “And that solution lies in the humans.”

The moment the word human leaves Elder Yagi’s mouth, Elder Aizawa sneers in disgust, rolling his eyes, and from the opposite side of him, you can see Elder Sekijiro do the same. It wasn’t something new. After all, with the divide and disdain of the fairies towards fellow fae who wouldn’t live up to their noble standards, their disgust was only further amplified with the knowledge that other inferior beings, such as humans, existed. Even with their inferiority, they were beginning to push the fairies to the brink of a calamity with how much they were destroying the order of nature. 

So you understood that there was an even greater prejudice towards humans, and you could feel nothing but sympathy and agony, knowing precisely what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such animosity. 

“The humans,” Elder Yagi continues, not paying much mind to the disheartened expressions on his fellow elders’ (with the exception of the Grand Elder) faces. “Surprisingly, have an innate source of magic within them, much different from our own.”

Confused, you look up at the kind elder, allowing yourself to show a little emotion with the way he looks down kindly at you as if he were a father talking towards his child. Elder Yagi had always guided you when you felt lost amidst the noble fairies that served under the council and was more than happy to help you with whatever you needed. 

Yet, currently, Elder Yagi was the main source of your confusion. 

“When a human begins to believe in the supernatural, their innate magic ability awakens and pours out of them like waves, and when they sustain that belief? That innate magic becomes stronger.” It’s a revolutionary discovery, in your eyes. Humans had always been thought of as useless. But more than that, the council had constantly reminded the fairies to stray away from them, as no one knows what hidden malice the humans could have, despite the disbelief of your fellow fae. 

“This is why we have formed the God Fairies, to ensure that the humans’ magic will be sustained and harnessed for our survival.” Elder Yagi looks at you, and you feel yourself flinch at the serious glance on his face, something that you knew wasn’t usual for the strong fairy. “Do you understand, young (Y/N)?”

The only thing you have the courage to do at the moment is nod, not trusting the thoughts that were lit ablaze in your mind, chaotic and unhinged. You knew that if you were to speak, your words would have most likely enraged the council as you currently had no control over them. 

“Good.” Grand Elder Nezu says after a few moments of silence. “In line with this, we will be assigning you, young (Y/N), to a human. Your punishment, or in this case, mission is to ensure that you’ve collected enough magic to sustain a family of fairies the same size as Young Neito’s.”

Your eyes widen, and you divert your attention towards Elder Yagi, begging him to say that the Grand Elder’s words were not true. But when you see Elder Aizawa sport a sinister grin from the corner of your eye, you feel your heart sink. As much as you hated Neito, he was a powerful fairy who came from a highly influential family within the realm. It was the reason why he was in the vanguard. After all, his family’s influence has been his threshold throughout the days you knew each other. 

And for a family as prominent in magical combat as his, they needed copious amounts of magic. An amount that you were sure couldn’t be collected by one fairy. In fact, the powerful fairies of the realm often sourced their innate magic directly from the elders themselves, a privilege that not many were able to enjoy. 

This was a punishment, after all. Great. Just Great.

“I understand, Grand Elder,” you say after finally composing yourself. You can feel the dread gradually sink in, and your mind races with worry at the thought of having to go through the daunting task. “I will do as you desire. For the glory of the fae.”

You can sense the satisfied yet cunning smiles of the council, pleased with your decision, and you heave a sigh, unsure of what the future could have in store. 

You could only hope that you wouldn’t be screwed over in the process. 

The human realm was fascinating, to say the least. 

When you first stepped foot on the lush forest of the realm, just on the outskirts of a bustling city, you couldn’t help but feel amazed. No amount of preparation from the elders or your friends could truly prepare you for this moment. 

For the past few weeks, Grand Elder Nezu and Elder Yagi had been preparing you extensively for this mission. They briefed you on the does and don’ts of a fairy entering the human realm, bragged about other god fairies who had succeeded in securing a sustainable amount of magic for the fairies, and just boasted. 

There was no comfort nor reassurance from either elder, which you had expected from Elder Yagi, but as you had come to find out, it seemed as if your father figure was still disappointed in you, causing your heart to sink. Did he really believe that you deserved to be punished?

You couldn’t even get this heavy feeling out of your chest. The worst part is that you couldn’t consult your best friend, Hitoshi, at all about this matter. Hitoshi had no knowledge of the god fairies as he had been a devout apprentice under Elder Aizawa’s care. He had no reason to know about it, he was already doing great, and that thought made your stomach churn. 

You desperately wanted to confide in him, to spill your fears and anxieties for him to hear. No matter how insufferable Hitoshi was, he was a great listener and a great friend. 

Gosh, you haven’t even spent one second in the Human Realm, and you were already feeling sick to your core. 

At least the view made it better. 

The council of elders had decided to assign you to a human living in the Musutafu Empire, nestled in the far east of the mortal realm. The Empire was drastically different from your own simple abode back in the fairy realm. Whereas yours was deeply rooted in nature, theirs was thriving on industrial roots. 

You couldn’t explain it, but the way they structured their buildings and houses was beautiful. It was a whole different style from what you were used to back home, with high walls and rowdy streets. The people were smiling, clad in clothing that was tight yet loose at the same time, with a ribbon wrapped securely around their waists. Far different from the flowy garments that you had back in the fairy realm. 

As you made your way to the capital, marveling at all the new sights that were capturing your eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder what the human assigned to you was like. Would he be stuck up like all the fairies you had come to know? Or would he be kind, much like Elder Yagi and Hitoshi were? The curiosity burned deep inside you, and you found yourself brimming with excitement at the thought of meeting him. 

Your mission was fairly simple if you could take away the fact that you had to harvest an impossible amount of magic. You were to watch over a selected human, who the council deemed had the potential to unlock their innate magic and help them when they most needed it. 

Almost as if you were someone who granted wishes, was what Grand Elder Nezu said. Granting wishes was the most effective way to strengthen the human’s belief in magic, allowing their own to flow out for the taking. Of course, there were other ways, such as haunting the humans or causing supernatural disasters that didn’t make sense. But such methods were unbecoming of fairies, and you couldn’t help but groan at the thought. 

Haunting seemed fun, after all. Almost as if you were constantly playing a prank on an unassuming human. You would have killed for that to be your punishment instead. 

But no. You were stuck with granting wishes, albeit not as often, as showing too much magic mind taint the human with greed and desire. Something that no fairy wanted. 

Checking on the special compass that the elders had given you prior to your journey, you make your way towards your assigned human, gaping in awe at the view of the capital down below you. Of course, with the magic you held, they wouldn’t be able to see you as you had concealed yourself prior, but you wished they could. It would have been fun to see their shell-shocked expressions. Maybe that was a more efficient way of harnessing their magic?

Or, rather than being an efficient method, it was most likely going to be a one-way ticket to banishment from the fairy realm, aka an express ride towards death, something you wanted to avoid at all costs. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, you spot the house of the human the elders had assigned to you. It was big, much larger than your own humble cottage back in the fairy realm, yet, even so, it didn’t compare to the ginormous estates that lay north of the house, almost as if it belonged perfectly in the middle. 

You gasped at the tranquility of the mansion, almost as if you had once again been transported into another world. It was almost as if in this home, time stopped, and peace overflowed. You perched yourself atop a sturdy branch, looking around and admiring the view.

But peace doesn’t last for long because all of a sudden, a slam rings through the air, and you watch curiously as a large man, who oddly enough looks similar to Elder Sekijiro, although that was probably a figment of your imagination, there was no way the frightening elder would actually be in the human realm, stumbles into view.

The large man looked pissed, you noticed, as he dragged something behind him, and it’s only till the large man threw whatever he was carrying harshly unto the tree you were perched on did you realize that what the man had dragged wasn’t just a thing, but rather it was a person. 

You gasp, heart breaking at the sight of the young boy. From where you sat above him, you could tell that he was covered with bruises all over, with a ghastly scar covering one of his eyes. The poor boy looked so weak and frail that you wanted nothing more than to steal the boy away and tend to him until he could stand on his own two feet one more. It was cruel. Was this the doing of that man?

You look up, and it’s only then that you notice a few more children looking at the scene below you with different expressions on their faces. There were about three of them; two boys and one girl. The tallest and assumably the eldest had an unbothered look on his face as if he couldn’t care less about the poor boy who had just been thrown into a three. The second boy, with snow-white hair, sported a sadistic grin as if he were enjoying seeing the young boy in pain. And the girl? The girl, who looked so sweet and innocent, held eyes of pure disgust as she clutched her teddy bear tighter to her chest, almost as if she were glaring at the young boy. 

Was this the kid’s family?

“Shoto!” The large man, whom you had deduced to be the father, screamed. You flinch at the loudness of his voice, intimidation flowing out of him in waves, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You look down, heart hurting at the sight of the young boy cowering in fear, but he still kept a brave face. Well, as much as he could do in that situation. 

“You dare disobey your brother?” He continues, tone raising more and more as his fists clench. “How many times have I told you to listen to your siblings? They’re much older, stronger, and smarter than a little piece of shit like you. Heck, even Fuyumi, who’s a girl, is much more dignified than your pathetic ass!”

The more words fell from the man’s mouth, the more you wished to hex him with forbidden magic. Although doing so would only make your punishment worse. The elders were strict about black magic, after all. Anyone who even showed a little bit of interest was considered a threat and was sent to conduct punishments almost immediately. It was cruel, but you were on wit’s end because nowhere had you seen a vile man like him. 

“It’s true, father!” The second sibling says, the sinister grin on his lips only growing. “I had asked Shoto nicely to help with my chores because I wanted to get more practice in for the royal knights’ examination, but he had the audacity to retaliate with the excuse that he already had chores to do.” The kid scoffs, rolling his eyes in the process. “He barely does anything in this house, yet he’s a burden to those of us who actually are? Father, he deserves punishment!”

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as if you were getting deja vu from this situation. The look on that kid’s face painfully reminded you of Neito, and you couldn’t help the gut feeling that made you believe that what the kid was saying was far from the truth.

“Shameful!” The father says, raising a hand to slap the young child to the side, and you gasp in horror wanting nothing more to interfere, yet the Grand Elder’s words ring harshly in your ear. There needs to be a balance. He had said. It would plunge the realms into total chaos if more than one human discovered the reality of magic simultaneously, especially those with foul intentions. 

You couldn’t reveal yourself, not yet, at least. Yet, at the same time, you wanted to curse the elders back home, for they had assigned to you a child who was literally experiencing hell on earth and only gave you limited movement to help. 

You watch, feeling the tears threaten to fall as the damn bastard of a father lands another punch towards his son, to the point where he begins to cough blood. Your eyes widen in horror as you hear the other children’s cheers. Why were they like this? Weren’t they family? Why were they treating one of their own like he wasn’t? He didn’t deserve this. He was only but a child!

When the father was finally finished with his rain of terror, you couldn’t help but release the breath you were holding in. Finally, it was over. But as if he couldn’t get any worse, the father towers over him, blue eyes boring into his kids. “If I see any of these bruises and wounds healed,” he whispers just enough for only Shoto to hear, but with your heightened senses, you couldn’t help but listen in. “Then you will get a beating far worse than this one. Do you understand?”

The kid nods weakly, not having the strength to communicate properly, causing the father to glare at him harder. “You are a disgrace to the Todoroki name, Shoto. Never forget that.”

And just like that, he leaves, the children following closely behind with mocking looks on their faces. The second sibling even goes so far as to spit on his youngest brother, causing you to clench your fists in anger, wanting to teach that kid a lesson. What kind of twisted personality did he have? Why was he treating his family like this? You just couldn’t understand. 

When they finally leave, leaving the young kid on the rough ground, wallowing in his misery and pain, you find it in yourself to come down and take action. What action, you may ask? You weren’t quite sure yourself, but every fiber in your being was begging you to do something to help the poor child. 

You kneel beside the beaten-up boy, weaving your hand through his dirtied hair. The boy looked like he hadn’t even been given an ounce of care throughout his life. How could this be? Wasn’t a family supposed to love each other? But you knew yourself that not all families were like that, only the lucky ones. 

The world, no matter what realm you were in, was cruel and cold to those who didn’t fit in, to those that made them feel sick. Within your heart, you knew exactly what the young child was feeling, although only to a certain extent as it could never compare to the feeling of getting beaten up by the people you were supposed to love on a day-to-day basis. 

But you too had been abandoned, you too had been ridiculed, and you knew how much that pain could carry through the rest of one’s life. The pain never truly goes away. It would only get buried, waiting for the moment it could come back to life. And if that pain was prolonged? Then that would only make things worse. 

So you decided, with a firm grip on your heart, that until you had to leave, you would be there for this child. More than punishment, more than a duty you had to fulfill, you would be there for him until the very end. 

That was a promise. 

Todoroki Shoto had never known love. 

For as long as he could remember, ever since the day he was born, his family had hated him. For what reason? He couldn’t quite comprehend, but now that he was a bit older, he understood to some extent. 

His birth had caused his mother to die. 

It was something that his family reminded him of every day. Whenever his brother, Natsuo, forced him to do his share of chores, he would always add in a snarky remark saying how it was the least he could do since he took his mother away from him. It hurt, but he couldn’t argue. It was the truth, after all. Him being born into the world had caused their own mother to leave it. It was only natural for his family to hate him. 

From what he had heard, his mother was a very kind woman. With the same snow-white hair that covered half of his head, Todoroki Rei was known to be an angel. She was kind, always selflessly showing her love, and in turn, everyone loved her for it. She was the life of the party, even though she was frail, and never failed to make everyone around her smile. She was what one would consider the embodiment of good.

And Shoto had taken her away from them. 

Everyone in the Todoroki household hated him, even the servants. How dare a useless child like him take away their mistress? How dare he live on as if nothing was wrong when he was the very reason that the light of the Todoroki household dimmed out. He was a despicable child in the eyes of everyone else, one that never deserved love. 

So they fed him moldy bread and spoiled milk, rotten fruits, and water that was clearly full of filth. They wanted him to die, to pay for taking their mistress away from them. And no one in his family ever stood up for him. 

His eldest brother Touya never even spoke to him. It was as if he was actively trying to ignore the kid. Whenever Shoto went up to talk to his brother, he would simply pass him by as if Shoto didn’t even exist. Yet whenever Shoto would catch peeks of the family eating a nice supper over the dinner table, his brother was actively engaging in conversation, causing an arrow to go through his heart at the realization that Touya truly did intend to ignore him. 

His second brother, Natsuo, was no better. The only difference was that he actively tried to make Shoto’s life a living hell more than it already was. Natsuo took all his anger and grief out on the young child with snarky remarks and condescending tones. There was even a slap on the cheek every now and then, to which he would complain that it was Shoto who assaulted him, even though it was far from the truth. And everyone would believe him. Because who would believe the words of a child whose birth meant the death of another?

Then there was Fuyumi, his only sister. She sported that same gentle nature as his mother, according to the house servants, yet to Shoto, she was a wicked and cruel child. She was petty, treating Shoto as if he were a slave. When her favorite tea was too hot for her liking, she spilled the scalding hot drink all over him, soon after berating and slapping him for letting the said liquid fall onto her plush carpet. It made no sense, but Shoto could never complain. Fuyumi was the darling of the family, after all. 

But his father? He was the worst of them all. 

Todoroki Enji was a curious man, to say the least. As one of the leading figures of the oldest families of the Musutafu Empire, his very presence brought tremendous waves of awe among the masses. The Todoroki family was one of the most revered families in the whole empire, and everyone had always looked up to them, seeing them as the perfect family. 

But Todoroki Enji had taken that image of perfection into heart, and it showed through the things he did behind closed doors. Rei’s death hit him the hardest, not because he was heartbroken that his other half died, but rather it was because that image of perfection had been broken into pieces, and he loathed it. He hated the pitiful gazes of the masses, as they stared at him as if he wasn’t the perfect being they needed him to be. It enraged him to no end. And the only outlet of this burning rage was the cause of all this brokenness, his own son. 

Everything Shoto did angered him. Even taking a breath angered him. Every action, look, and word that came from the young child infuriated the head of the house, and he couldn’t help but take it out on him. Treating Shoto like he wasn’t a child but rather an enemy on the battlefield. Every day he would ruthlessly beat Shoto up until he felt satisfied, leaving Shoto battered and bruised with no chance of recovery. It was terrible, something anyone with a heart would hate, yet all those who resided in the Todoroki Mansion thrived on his misery. 

So yeah, all his life, Todoroki Shoto had never known love. 

But when he feels a hand gently caress his face, brushing his dirtied hair off of his face and running a thumb over his bruising cheek, he wonders if maybe this was it. Whoever was touching him had such a gentle and soft touch, a touch that he’s never felt before in his life. It was warm, far different from the cold caresses of his family. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the comfort of this warmth. But what if this was just a figment of his imagination?

He opens his eyes slowly, bearing through the pain and heaviness that came with it, and his gaze meets yours, and he’s blown away. 

Your eyes look at him with sincere kindness, one that Shoto has never seen before in his life. He’s only been alive for a few years or so, and he can tell that this was what was right. Not his family, not the servants treating him with extreme hostility. No, you, a stranger he had never seen in his entire life, was already treating him way better than the whole world would ever treat him. And it had only been a few seconds since his eyes met yours. 

“W-who…” he stutters, blinking wearily as if he wanted to get a closer look, but you shush him with gentle whispers, continuing to weave your hands through his dual-colored hair that looked stunning under the sunlight, even if it was smeared to no end. 

“Shh, don’t speak, child,” you say, motherly instincts that you were unaware of surfacing. “You are injured. Speaking will only make it worse.”

Shoto nods, staying silent as you continue to run your fingers through his hair. Suddenly a surge of warmth rushes through his body, and he watches amazed as the pain from his father’s beating slowly goes away, even if the bruises didn’t disappear. 

“There, that should do the trick!” You say, smiling brightly and voice cheery in an attempt to console the young child. Shoto slowly sits up from where he laid on the hard ground, looking at his hands in awe. How did you do that? How did you make all the pain disappear?

“I apologize,” you say, looking sheepishly at Shoto once you noticed he was staring at his arms in awe. “Your father mentioned that he would hurt you even more if your injuries are healed, so I’m only able to make the physical pain go away, but the wounds remain. I hope that’s alright.”

It’s more than alright, Shoto thinks to himself as he looks at you in awe. Shoto had never felt this alive before. It was as if his energy was restored and multiplied as if the numbness that had accumulated from the years of beating had vanished without a trace. 

“Thank you,” he finally says, not having the courage to spill his heart out in fear that you would take his feelings and crush them in the blink of an eye. If Shoto were to be honest, if anyone else aside from the people he had come to know were to berate him more than he already was on a daily basis, then he would truly crumble. 

“But… who are you?” He asks, finally coming to his senses. “Why are you here? It’s dangerous. If father finds out, then you—”

“—Do not worry child, I will be fine.” You’re doing better than expected despite the rapid beating of your heart from how nervous you were. You really hated this motherly image you were exuding, wanting nothing more than to be as carefree as you usually were, but first impressions were important, and you had to time things just right. 

You smile, looking at Shoto with the kindest gaze you could muster, patting him gently on the head in the process. 

“I’m your fairy godmother, after all.”

“F-fairy g-godmother?” Shoto asks, clearly confused. You giggle at his perplexed expression, amused. It was fascinating how the child still seemed to be as innocent despite the harsh realities he had been through. He was a strong human, you supposed. And quite an adorable one too. 

“Yes, child,” you say once more, standing up and bringing Shoto up with you, although he stumbles, legs weak from being on the ground for too long, but you’re quick to catch him, giggling once more at the flustered expression on his face. 

“I’m your fairy godmother,” you repeat, lines poised and precise like you had been trained to from the Grand Elder. “And as your fairy godmother, I’ll be here to make sure that your pain will be more bearable until you can fly free on your own.”

“Fly?” The young child asks excitedly, eyes beaming. “Will I be able to fly someday?”

“Not in the literal sense, child.” You giggle, the tiny human bringing the weight of the world off your shoulders. It was refreshing to interact with him. Perhaps this was why parents decide to have children. They were oh so loveable when they were young. You could only hope that the pureness of his heart wouldn’t be tainted even further by the harsh reality of his family’s disdain. 

“But you’ll understand what I mean very soon,” you say, kneeling down towards his level. “And until then, I’ll be your wings, alright?” 

It’s clear that Shoto doesn’t understand a word you’re saying, but that’s alright. He doesn’t need to understand at the moment. He just needs to believe. And from the pure amazement and wonder in his eyes, it looks as if he’s already on a one-way track towards it.

“Now, child, before I send you off, you must remember something very important.” You say, tone a bit sterner as Shoto gulps, nodding his head and turning his full attention towards you. His concerned and slightly worried look on his face makes you want to break your facade and laugh along with him. But this truly was an important matter, and if you didn’t drill it into his brain, then your mission would have been all for naught. 

“Under no circumstance, must you tell of my existence to another soul, do you understand?” There’s uncertainty in the child’s gaze as if he doesn’t truly understand the weight of your words, but he nods nonetheless, agreeing. “Not your father,” you continue, hoping to make your point a bit clearer. “Nor your siblings, nor any stranger that you come across. You can’t reveal my existence to anyone, understand? This is a secret between you and me. Can you keep it?”

A beat of silence passes the two of you as Shoto lets the words sink in. He truly doesn’t understand why he can’t tell anyone else about you. It didn’t make sense to him. Weren’t you supposed to make his pain more bearable? Then why couldn’t you do that in the form of mending his relationship with his family? It saddened Shoto because in the few moments you had spent together, in those few minutes he got to know you, Shoto already considered you a friend. His first friend, in fact. 

Why couldn’t he show you off? 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that you, too, would get punished by his father if he were to reveal your existence. His father was a terrifying man. If he wanted something, then he would get it, no matter how difficult it was to obtain. His father held himself in high regard. And anyone who didn’t fit his standards was considered worthless and useless. If he were to find out that you were associated with him, the failure of the family, then who knows what his father would do to you?

He wouldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow that. You were the first person to show him kindness, and he couldn’t just let you slip away. That would break him to the point of no return. 

“Sure,” Shoto mumbles shyly, a bashful smile forming on his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t have guessed that this child was frequently beaten up by his family, much less hated by them. He seemed like a great kid, who needed a friend to stand by him, and although Grand Elder Nezu and Elder Yagi had strictly advised you against being too attached to your assigned human, you couldn’t help it. 

Who were you to ignore such a loveable child? 

You smile, the sternness gradually leaving your face, and raise your hand towards him, pinky pointing out. “Promise?” Shoto looks at you before his eyes dart to your outstretched finger, bewildered and unsure. 

“This is a pinky promise,” you say, realizing that he didn’t understand what you were trying to do. “When we link our pinkies together like this,” you continue, intertwining your pinky with his and locking them together. “Then that means our promise is sealed in stone and can never ever be broken.” 

You give Shoto a small smile, your other hand reaching out to pat his head gently, while Shoto looks at your intertwined pinkies in awe and admiration. 

In his haze, you finally stand up, your heightened senses hearing angered footsteps approaching, and you look worriedly at Shoto, hesitant to leave.

“I have to go now,” you say, heartbreaking at the way his expression falls from his face, replaced with a disappointed one.

“But don’t worry, I’ll be back.” You’re quick to reassure him, waving your hands frantically as you give off a sheepish smile. “I’ll be back when you need me the most,” you clarify, panic rushing in as the hurried footsteps become louder.

“Promise?” Shoto asks, stretching out his own pinky to you, reflecting what you had just taught him. This catches you by surprise, but you’re quick to smile, intertwining your pinkies once more.

“I promise,” you genuinely whisper, watching with mirth in your heart as Shoto looks up at you with a warm smile of his own, eyes looking at you tenderly as if he were sending you off.

And just like that, you vanish, much to Shoto’s shock, as the sliding door behind him slams open, and a servant comes out storming towards him angrily. But honestly, Shoto couldn’t care less.

Even as the servant berated him and dragged him harshly back into the mansion, Shoto couldn’t help but feel all warm and giddy inside. He had made his first friend.

And that was more than anything he could ever ask for.

Ever since your first meeting with Shoto, you had begun to grow closer towards the abused child, feeling a connection start to grow.

Of course, you didn’t show yourself to him as often as you wanted to, as you had your own limitations. Because as the council had told you before your departure, they were watching. And that was a frightening thought to ever take for granted. 

It was too risky to put your personal desires over your duty at the forefront, so you had to work your way around the rules laid down by the Grand Elder. You had to be sharp, had to show your support and friendship in other more mundane ways so Shoto would continue to believe.

You were still a fairy on a mission, after all.

Harnessing magic wasn’t a one-time thing. If it were, then the council would have easily done it by now. The truth of the matter was that cultivating the magic out of humans required time, effort, and care— a feat that was far too tedious for the council to partake in, which was why it was up to the God fairies to carry it out.

As the relationship between a god fairy and their assigned human continued to grow, so would the amount of magic present within the human. Once it got to its breaking point, then the god fairy would immediately harness it, marking the end of their relationship and causing the human to never believe in magic again. 

It was a cruel process but one you couldn’t avoid as it meant your life or death. But the more time you spend with Shoto, the more your resolve seems to break, and you begin to question whether or not you could actually pull through with what you were meant to do. 

The door slides open, snapping you away from your train of thought, and in walks Shoto, a new bruise forming over his right eye. 

Even if you couldn’t show yourself on a daily basis, you still made your presence known to Shoto through small acts of magic, ones that wouldn’t be considered overboard by the Grand Elder. You would have followed Shoto everywhere he went, watching his every move and ensuring that he was safe, but in a way, it made you uncomfortable.

And you couldn’t stand seeing the way his family and servants treated him. It was too cruel. You were sure that if you spent any second longer seeing his siblings ridicule him or his father punch him, then you would lose control. And everything that you had worked desperately for would have gone to waste,  which was why you distanced yourself from the young child whenever he was around others. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. It was for the best; you tried to convince yourself. You were doing the right thing. 

But that didn’t mean you didn’t help him at all. As Shoto quickly makes his way to his worn-out futon, wincing in pain at all the bruises his father had given him from the day’s beating, you couldn’t help but fuss over him, immediately reaching out to take the pain away in your invisible state, external wounds remaining. 

“Fairy Godmother?” Shoto calls out weakly, feeling the pain leave him gradually as warmth replaces it. His eyes feel lighter, and he finally works the courage to open them fully, only to be met with his dark room. You were still invisible. You hadn’t shown yourself just yet. “Are you there?”

You wanted to respond. You desperately do. But the weight of your duty weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you hesitate, unsure whether or not you would reach out to him. You two were close, that was for sure. Throughout the few months of your ‘friendship’ with Shoto (if you could call it that), you had come to know just how precious the child truly was. Even after all the hardships and suffering that overcame him, he was still bright and innocent, something you never entirely understood, but you supposed that was what made Shoto… Shoto. 

 “Fairy Godmother?” Shoto calls out again, this time a little more desperate. His eyes dart around, trying to find you, but you were nowhere to be seen. All he wanted was to see you again. Sure, you had in some way, shape, and form always made your presence known through your kind acts, but it didn’t feel complete. It was as if Shoto was talking to a ghost, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to speak to his friend, the one person who made him see the light in what seemed like a never-ending darkness. 

“Please,” he whispers like a prayer, hoping that you would show yourself. “Are you there?”

You couldn’t take it. This was torture to you. You knew you would get reprimanded either way, but as a fairy tasked with the responsibility of taking care of this child, you had to do it. He was practically crying out at this point. What kind of soul wouldn’t help him?

“I am here, Shoto,” you say, finally revealing yourself, and you feel yourself wince at the tears of relief that slip past the young child’s eyes. “I am here.”

Almost immediately, Shoto lunges at you, wrapping you in the tightest embrace he could muster. Was this real? He thought to himself. Were you actually here? This wasn’t a dream, right? What if you left him for good? He didn’t think his heart could handle that. 

“You’re here!” He whispers, nuzzling into your stomach, giggling. “You’re actually here!” How could a child be so precious? You wonder to yourself. He was so innocent and pure. Why was his family hurting him like he wasn’t? From the time you had come to know Shoto, you could tell that he was a kind soul. He didn’t deserve any of the pain inflicted by his family. He deserved nothing but love and happiness. You just wished you had the authority to give it to him. 

But alas, even with your freedom came chains that sought to bind you to the harsh realities of the world. 

“Yes, I am, Shoto,” you giggle, running your hand soothingly through his hair, knowing how much comfort it brought the young child. “What is it that you need?”

“Nothing really,” Shoto replies after a while, merely basking in your warmth for as long as he could. “I just wanted to see you again.”

If Shoto were, to be honest, he was afraid that you were merely a product of his own imagination. His family often mocked him for it, calling him delusional in every way they could. Delusional for thinking he was loved; Delusional for thinking he deserved to be loved, and more so delusional for thinking that he could actually receive love from his family. 

He was raised to believe that in one way or another, he was delusional, so somewhere deep down inside him, he thought that maybe you were a product of his delusions too. 

But here you were, smiling down at him with such tenderness and care that Shoto knew you were anything but a delusion. He smiles brightly, the pain from earlier slowly melting away in your presence, and he drags you with his little hands towards his small, worn-out mattress, encouraging you to sit. 

You follow him, eyes frowning at the state of his mattress. This was no way to treat a human being. Even back in the fairy realm, although it was clear that many were not fond of you, they still gave you common courtesy and respect as any other living being should. What Shoto’s family was doing to him was horrible, and you wish you could bring him out of it. 

“Could you tell me a story?” Shoto asks out of the blue, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. “A story?” You repeat, unsure if you heard him correctly. Shoto nods, moving to lift a part of his mattress off the ground to reveal a hidden pile of storybooks that you never knew existed.

“My father doesn’t let me read,” he whispers, fingers darting over the dusty covers. “Says I’m not worthy of it.” Your hands clenched into fists beside you as you tried not to let your anger show, but Shoto could feel it slowly dripping off you in waves. “It’s fine, though,” he says, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t as affected by it as he truly was. “I’m used to it….”

A beat of silence passes the two of you as you look at the solemn gaze on Shoto’s face as he continues to run his fingers through the cover of the worn book longingly. With a sigh, you gently take Shoto into your arms, catching the young boy by surprise. 

“You don’t have to hide in front of me, you know?” You say, seemingly scolding the child, but your tone was light, a small smile making its way to your face. “Friends don’t hide things from each other.”

From where he sat in your lap, Shoto looks at you with a bewildered gaze on his face, as if he were mesmerized. You simply smile at him, taking the book gently from his arms and opening it to the first page. 

“I’ll help you learn how to read,” you say, finally clearing up your actions. “Isn’t that what you truly want?” 

Shoto doesn’t say anything, but you can tell from the tears that are about to fall from his eyes that this was indeed his genuine desire. It pained you. Reading was something many took for granted, but as you see the absolute joy on Shoto’s face as he brought his attention back to the book in excitement, you realize that this was a gift. 

You had the power to help this child beyond magic. And that was something you would use to your advantage, no matter the consequence. 

You just wished that you would have done a better job at keeping it lowkey. Because as you guide Shoto in reading the story he had picked for the night, You don’t notice the gap between his door and the wall, a result of Shoto not closing the door properly from his weakened state and as a result, a young girl was standing on the opposite side of the door, eyes widened in horror and disgust at the sight she was seeing. 

This wasn’t going to go well. 

The next few days, Shoto honestly felt like he was in bliss. 

No matter how horribly his family and servants treated him, nothing could shake the happiness he felt within his heart. Perhaps it was amplified by the fact his father had left the mansion for a few days to attend to his duties in the royal palace. Although he still had to face harsh treatments from his siblings and the other servants, at least the beatings became scarce. 

His family was much too cowardly to carry out the same severe beatings his father gave. Which meant that he could enjoy his time with you even more than he should. 

He had just finished his chores, ones that the servants were supposed to do, but in their vanity, they forced him to do it, going beyond their status as mere servants and dropping all their responsibilities as a child, sporting faux innocence whenever Shoto had tried to bring it up to his family.

But when he did, his father only got angry, beating him for lying about such matters, insinuating how he was insulting him because it was Enji who handpicked those servants, meaning an insult to them was an insult to his father.

So Shoto learned to take everything in a stride. To just do whatever the servants wanted him to do otherwise, he would get an even more severe beating from his father, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

But that fear was a thing of the past, as at the moment, Shoto was happily skipping towards his room, excitedly thinking of what story his fairy godmother would teach him about today.

Truly, like her title, Shoto’s fairy godmother was a blessing sent from the heavens. She was kind, patient, and never berated Shoto for any mistake he made. She would never do that to him, she told him one day when he had asked. It was just too cruel. 

So this was what kindness really felt like, Shoto realized once the words slipped from her mouth. Growing up, Shoto was taught that his family’s actions were one of kindness, with insults such as ‘you should be grateful father was kind enough to keep you in this house when you should have been thrown out into the street already.’ being thrown at him left and right. 

He had always hated kindness because of that. His family’s kindness made him feel sick, made him want to curl up into a hole and die, yet his fairy godmother had shown him the light. His fairy godmother had shown him that kindness wasn’t supposed to make you feel horrible. It was supposed to make you happy. It was supposed to fill your heart with love and affection that you wanted to give back tenfold. 

What his family was doing to him wasn’t kindness at all.

Even more so when he stopped in front of his room, confused to hear a commotion inside. His gut feeling told him to run away, to hide, and never show himself again. But he couldn’t. His room was his safe haven, the only place where he could truly escape from his harsh reality, and if something ever happened to it, then Shoto wouldn’t know what to do.

He hastily opens the door only to feel his blood run cold. There standing in his room were his father, Enji, and his sister, Fuyumi. The moment they heard the door open, his sister turned to him, fake tears in her eyes, ones that Shoto knew everyone believed. Because in their eyes, Shoto’s sister was innocent, even though he knew that she was a devil in disguise.

“There he is, father!” Fuyumi exclaimed, pointing towards him accusingly. “The thief!”

Thief? Shoto wondered to himself. Why was he a thief? As far as he knew, he hadn’t stolen anything from anyone, much less his sister. Why would she accuse him of being a thief?

But he didn’t get the chance to ponder on it deeply, with his father turning towards him with deep rage lacing his eyes. Why was his father here in the first place? Wasn’t he supposed to stay in the palace for a few more days?

“You imbecile!” His father rages, stomping towards him. Shoto whimpers trying to back away, but his father was bigger and stronger than he could ever be and caught up to him quickly, holding him by the collar of his rags and throwing him across the room harshly. 

The impact causes immense pain to course through Shoto’s body, and he’s sure he could feel a rib or two of his break from the pressure. There was liquid running down his face, was that blood? Perhaps. He was in too much pain to process what was happening. 

“First, you kill your mother,” His father says, slowly making his way towards him, intimidation falling off him in waves. “Second, you act like an entitled brat to everyone in this house,” his words make Shoto flinch, knowing in his heart that none of his words were true. “And third,” Shoto’s father says as he finally stands in front of him, eyes glaring into his with severe malice. “You dare steal something extremely valuable from your sister? Have you no shame?”

With the little strength he could muster, Shoto looks up at his father, eyes weak and hazy. “Steal?” He whispers. “I didn’t steal anything….”

“Lies!” He hears his sister exclaim, sobbing hysterically. If Shoto didn’t know that his sister had two sides, he would have believed that she was genuinely upset. But that wasn’t the case. She was making things up. And this time, her act might actually cost his life. 

“You stole the storybooks I got from mother!” She accuses, holding her teddy bear tighter to her chest, hateful eyes glaring into his.

Storybooks? Shoto asks to himself, eyes darting around only to find the pile of storybooks on the ground— the same ones you read to him every night. A fire burns inside him, something that Shoto had never felt before. The audacity his sister had.

“Y-you,” he stutters, coughing from the pain. “You threw them away! I don’t steal them. I found them in the garbage!”

“That’s not true!” His sister fights back, and Shoto can see the way her eyes dart around in shock, not expecting him to actually speak up. “Why would I throw away something I received from mother?” 

Shoto was about to retort, but suddenly, a harsh sound rang through the room, and Shoto feels an excruciatingly painful sting on his cheek. His father had slapped him hard.

“How dare you,” he says, voice low, concealing the pure unadulterated rage that was about to burst forth. “How dare you take our kindness for granted, you son of a bitch.” 

“We clothed you. We gave you shelter and food, and this is how you repay us?” He spats, hands clenched into fists. “After everything you’ve done to our family, you continue to disgrace our family name? What a despicable child you are.” 

Pushing Shoto down to the floor, Enji raises his hand, ready to land a punch. “Shameful.” He lands a blow. “Disgusting.” He lands another. “Thief.” This time his father hits his broken ribs, causing Shoto to cry out in even more pain. “Murderer.”

Tears fall from Shoto’s eyes as the pain continues to flow through him, bursting through every punch. Was he really a murderer? Was he really that bad of a child? If so, why did they make him stay? Why couldn’t they put him out of his misery?

He wished his fairy godmother was here. She would probably make things better than they were now. She would make all the pain go away and then pat his head like she always did as she read him another story. He had never been as happy as he was whenever she read to him. But who knew that happiness came at an awful price?

Fairy Godmother, Shoto prayed in his mind as his father continued to beat him, letting out all his anger onto his body. Where are you? He was sure he looked like a mess, probably not even human anymore. But he couldn’t care less. He just wanted his fairy godmother by his side.

She said she would be there when he needed it most, didn’t she?

Suddenly the pain stops, and all Shoto feels is numb. He opens his eyes to the best ability, only to see his father stop midair with someone’s hand holding into his arm. He turns to the side, wincing in pain, yet it’s worth it because he finally sees the person he’s been waiting for.

His fairy godmother had finally appeared.

“Who are you?” His father shouts, screaming at the fairy. Her face is hardened, eyes glaring back at him with such hatred that it could honestly mirror his father’s. 

“None of your business,” she spats before forcefully throwing his father to the other side of the room, landing with a harsh thud.

She walks towards him, a menacing aura surrounding her, but just before she could approach Shoto’s father, his sister immediately runs to defend him, glaring with genuine tears in her eyes.

“Who are you?” She screams, shaking. “Why are you attacking father? Father has done nothing wrong! You should be attacking that… thing! He’s the bad one here.”

Her desperate cries leave a bitter hole in Shoto’s heart as he feels nothing but despair. He had always hoped that beneath all the harsh words of his family members, underneath all their cruel punishments and glaring eyes, they would still have room in their hearts to care for him, even just a little bit.

But no, they didn’t even see him as human. And that hurt way more than being called a murderer. 

“First of all,” you say, voice ice-cold, causing shivers to run down everyone’s spine. “Shoto isn’t a thing. He’s a human being. He’s your brother. What kind of person are you for not even acknowledging that?” 

“He killed my mother!” Shoto’s sister screams in protest, holding her ground. But her words only cause your gaze to harden as you grab her in the shoulders, and she shakes under your terrifying stare. 

“Listen here, young lady,” your voice booms through the room. “Shoto didn’t kill anyone. Your mother’s death was not his fault. Just because you can’t accept the fact that your mother is not on this earth anymore doesn’t mean you can treat your brother like he’s the scum of the earth.”

His sister falls silent after that, not knowing what else to say. She sniffles, and as gently as you can, you push her to the side. She was still a child, after all. No matter how vain she was, she was only a year or two older than Shoto. And you were not one to inflict pain on children or anyone for that matter. 

But this had gone too far. And you couldn’t find it within yourself to stand on the sidelines any longer. 

“And you,” if possible, your voice becomes even more ominous as you approach Enji, who sat on the ground, groaning. In his weakened state, he glares at you, having the audacity to continue spewing nonsense from his mouth. 

“Don’t you know who I am?” He threatens before you can continue to speak. “I am Todoroki Enji, the right-hand man of the Emperor of the Musutafu Empire! If his majesty were to find out of your crime, then he would—”

“—Punish you to the depths of hell.” You say, cutting him off. “I’m not a fool, Todoroki Enji. I know that the only reason you sheltered Shoto was so the Emperor wouldn’t find out your crimes. Otherwise, you would have thrown him onto the streets.”

Enji can feel his blood run cold, the truth hitting him like harsh waves the more they fall from your lips. 

“The Emperor is a kind and just man, and if he were to ever find out that you were treating your child this way, then he wouldn’t hesitate to sentence you to death. You know that more than anyone.”

Silence befalls the room as everyone soaks your words in. Shoto doesn’t understand. What were you trying to say?

“You know better than to punish Shoto for killing his mother. He didn’t do anything wrong. Todoroki Rei was already weak and frail after giving birth to the little young miss over there, yet you still insisted that she bear you a child, and when she refused, you threatened her.”

A gasp falls from his sister’s lips as the gravity of your words swirls up into a tornado in Shoto’s mind. Was this true? Was he truly not to blame for all of this?

“Lies,” Enji mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear. You stay silent, allowing the man to form his thoughts, yet that proves to be fatal as after a beat of silence passes, the man glares at you, taking a broken piece of the wall and swinging it your way. 

“Fairy Godmo—” Shoto calls, distressed and scared, but it proved to be for naught as in the blink of an eye, the heavy debris vanished, and you stood there, wand in hand, glaring once more at his father. 

“What?!” His father exclaims, finally taking his stand. “How were you able to do that? That should have killed you!”

You smile, grin sinister and dark, far from the gentle warmth it usually portrayed. Shoto was scared. His brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening. But what he did know was that he didn’t like any of this one bit. 

“Magic,” is all you say, lifting your wand to cast another spell. “Magic is what made me do this to you. And magic is how I’ll make sure that you suffer the same hell Shoto has gone through.”

Horror fills Enji’s eyes as you step closer. But just as you’re about to release your spell, the door opens, revealing Shoto’s second brother, Natsuo, whose eyes widened at the sight in front of him. On instinct, he grabs the wooden sword he had brought with him from his training and lunges at you just as your magic bursts forth, tackling you to the ground. 

And a scream fills the air. 

Everyone looks, startled at the sight. When the chaos finally comes clear, to the family’s dread and your glee, your spell had managed to affect Enji, but not in the way that you had hoped. 

Instead of the core of his body, you had hit his eyes instead, a nasty scar forming over it, burning the flesh, and causing the man to tremble in pain. 

Well, at least he would know what Shoto felt when he got his scar. 

You stand up, dusting the dirt off your clothes as you make your way towards Shoto, ignoring his shell-shocked brother, who was staring at his father writhing in pain. You probably look like a mess at this point, totally different from how you usually appeared, but that was the least of your concerns. 

You had to ensure Shoto was alright. He had gone through so much after all. 

You couldn’t stand it. How could you stand watch when Shoto’s father was basically killing the poor child? Shoto who was pure and innocent. Shoto, whose only desire in life, was to read. He didn’t care for freedom or revenge. He just wanted to live normally. 

You couldn’t find it within yourself to let his family trample over those dreams any longer. 

You finally approach him, getting ready to kneel beside him and take him in your embrace so you could take the pain away. How much pain must he have gone through? You wonder. His body was battered and bruised, looking as if he was merely a shell of the child he once was. It was too cruel, and you could only hope that you’re magic would take even a bit of that pain away.

Because the child deserved to smile. 

But just as you’re about to reach out towards him, a bright light shines through the room, and from that light comes a figure, one that causes your whole being to momentarily freeze in shock and fear. 

Elder Yagi stood there in all his glory, robes and wings perfectly accentuating his features, truly presenting himself as the most powerful fairy in all the realm. His eyes were placed into a frown, and he stared directly at you, disappointment evident within him. 

You had screwed up, and now you were going to pay the price. 

“Young (Y/N),” His voice booms, loud and proud like how a fairy should be. “For breaking the Fairy Code by revealing the existence of magic to humans other than your godchild and for using said magic to unlawfully harm the human race, you are hereby sentenced to banishment from the fairy realm effective immediately.”

You stare at the elder you had come to know as a father, pleading with desperate eyes for him not to do this to you, but he pays no mind, waving his wand, causing binds to form and wrap around your body. 

“No, please!” You scream in vain, begging. “At least let me heal Shoto. Let me do something for him!”

“You’ve already done enough!” Elder Yagi screams. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so angry, and it scares you. Where was the kind fairy you had come to know? Why was he acting like this? “The Council will take over.”

And light flashes once more through the broken room, and just like that, you’re gone, leaving Shoto behind. 

Shoto blinks blearily, everything passing by in a blur. What had happened? What was happening? He wished he had the strength to get up and take a stand for himself, but he was quite literally beaten to a pulp. He can’t feel the strength in his arms anymore, and just that very thought scares him. 

The only thing that comforts him is the soothing lullaby of darkness, trancing him into a sleepy state, and before he knows it, Shoto passes out. 

Not knowing that from this point onwards, his life would change forever. 

The light shines through the curtains, and Shoto wakes up, blinking. 

He stretches his tired limbs and sits up, yawning. Why did he feel so tired? He’s never felt this weary before. 

He gets out of bed, heading towards his bathroom, looking at the mirror. When he does, however, he’s suddenly flashed with a vision of him, beaten into a pulp and unable to stand up, and he gasps, but that vision slowly fades away, and Shoto’s regular reflection comes back. 

What was that? Why did he look so… dead?

Surely that was a figment of his own imagination, right? Surely that was his mind playing tricks on him, right? Sure, his family did beat him from time to time, but they would never treat him that badly, right?

Shoto shivers, desperately shaking his thoughts away, as he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, hoping to snag some food while the servants aren’t looking. 

On his way, however, he bumps into his father, who glares at him. Shoto looks to the ground in shame, not knowing why this particular meeting made him more frightened than usual. He should be used to his father’s beatings by now, but why did he feel so scared?

“You,” his father says, and Shoto halts at the menacing tone in his voice. “Look at me.” Shoto does as he asks, and looks up to his father, eyes widening at the sight of a ghastly scar mirroring his own on his father’s face.

Did he always have that scar? 

His father stares at him as if he were examining him. For what reason, Shoto wasn’t quite sure, But it made him extremely uncomfortable, and he could only hope that his father would let him go soon. 

“You should be grateful I’m in a good mood today, brat,” is all his father says, glaring harshly at Shoto. He doesn’t say anything more than that, choosing to leave towards the direction of the dining room, leaving Shoto behind in the hallway. 

That was it? He asked himself. He wasn’t going to punch him? That was weird. But he paid it no mind. As his father said, it was his lucky day. 

Yet as Shoto continued to head towards the kitchen, there was an itching feeling scratching the back of his head, telling Shoto that there was something wrong. That something was missing. It felt like there was a missing piece to the puzzle, which confused Shoto because, as far as he knew, everything was completely normal. 

But he couldn’t ignore that thought. It nagged him throughout the day, telling him that this wasn’t right. 

The problem was, Shoto had no idea what exactly was wrong. 

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

[gordvendomewhore]

L please

thank you for the ask!!! i see u in my notifications from time to time so it's nice to hear from you teehee

L - something nice about a character who isn’t a fav

wahhh this is a bit difficult because there are so many characters in bully that i just feel neutral about... so many choices. i guess i'll do a few

i'll start with gary bc he's an obvious one that i don't really care for despite being so popular within the fandom. a lot of people try to redeem him, but i think gary's intense role as an antagonist and the batshit crazy shit he did to fulfill said role was amazing. his actions were absolutely wild and i loved it. it really is a shame he didn't show up more outside of chapter 1, and honestly i wish they went on with the nice guy persona a bit longer before the betrayal. he was a good antagonist, and i don't think he needs to be justified on account of mental illness and stigmatization and bullying. i think we should be allowed to enjoy his character and look down on the parts of him that bully definitely made ehhh decisions with.

and uhhhh i'll do earnest bc no one really likes him lmao. even though earnest was a genuine creep and disguised it under a faux nice guy act that no one actually believed, i think those aspects of his character were done well without trying to justify it. his actions aren't inherently romanticized within the game, it's obvious that they're bad and jimmy even starts working against earnest. as obvious with what i said about gary, i love an antagonistic character that can just be antagonistic without some sob story to back it up. yeah earnest is bullied and tormented for being a nerd, but we don't see a lot of that in game, we just see him be a pussy bitch who makes the most horrible actions and says the most horrible things, and i LOVED being able to beat him the fuck up. in terms of morality, earnest was horrible. but in terms of immorality, earnest was amazing and he made it so easy to hate him. truly phenomenal.

and i'll end it off with hmm good ol johnny vincent. everyone loves johnny, and i am no different. however, aside from my phase at the beginning of my adventure through the bully fandom, johnny isn't exactly a fav of mine lmaooo all respect to people who do love him though. i love johnny's character bc while he’s not really an original concept, he’s a trope i actively enjoy: an overly jealous, emotional, violent, extremely loyal boyfriend whose girlfriend is actively using him and cheating on him... wowie zowie! and i don’t say this to romanticize him bc people within this fandom often glorify his actions because "omg!!!!11!!1!1 a boyf who will fight for me!!1!!1!!!!111!!" but i never found the appeal of such violent jealousy lol. but i think johnny has a great arc coming for him, one where he learns where to dedicate his loyalty, and one where he focuses more on his friends rather than his romance.

thanks for the ask!! <3 it was really fun answering these!!!

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

[jackoshadows]

The ASoIaF fandom can be so frustrating sometimes.

It’s okay to admit that one doesn’t like this or that character. There’s nothing wrong in disliking a character.

I am pretty open on my blog about my indifference towards or dislike for Sansa because of her stans. I don’t make disclaimers about how much I love the character before proceeding to criticize Sansa. I am not a Sansa stan and that’s okay. My blog is a place for me to jot down my thoughts and celebrate characters, books and shows I do like. If you love Sansa as a character, block me, don’t follow me etc.

What’s obnoxiously annoying are the folks who claim to love all the characters the same and then give their ‘unbiased’ opinions which are held up as canon facts because they came from neutral book reader experts. To hell with that nonsense.

These posts reek of hypocrisy and double standards. It often tears down some characters while subtly propping up others - and it’s gobbled up by the wider fandom as unbiased interpretation of the text.

One example is pushing forth the notion that calling Arya pretty (Something that both her father and brother tell her she is in the books) is wrong, it’s sexualizing her, it’s okay for Arya to be ugly, she’s canonically not pretty because Cat/Sansa said so and no other interpretation is allowed etc. And then the same person who says all this celebrates Sansa’s beauty and ships her with a 27 year old man who falls in lust with Sansa.

Or when they say that the Arya-Lyanna (and Sansa/Lyanna parallels, because it’s always important to mention Sansa with respect to Lyanna even if said person claims to not care about Lyanna as a character) parallels are overrated and not important and they don’t care about Robert’s Rebellion characters but on their blogs there’s all these posts, fanarts and meta about Elia Martell - a Robert’s Rebellion character.

A so called book expert would note that GRRM has several characters outright compare Arya to Lyanna or mistake Lyanna for Arya in the books while Sansa has no such comparison. But no, the unbiased book expert thinks that the Arya-Lyanna and Sansa-Lyanna parallels are equivalent and are both overrated.That post just annoyed me excessively into writing this long ass rant post.

Why are these neutral, unbiased folks so interested in stripping away from Arya’s story?

In the books Jeyne Poole is masquerading as Arya Stark - but that story is only Jeyne’s, has nothing to do with Arya or Arya’s importance to the North. 

Arya is a strong warg, Nymeria and her wolf pack are a ‘Chekov’s wolf pack’ that GRRM has hung on the wall  -  Our expert opinion is that Direwolves are not all that important in the grand scheme of things.

Arya is pretty - why needlessly call Arya pretty, it adds nothing to Arya’s story and is all about sexualizing a child.

Arya-Lyanna parallels - why do we need these parallels, Arya is distinct and interesting without them.

These aspects are all important parts of the character’s story. There are so many very well written essays exploring these concepts with respect to Arya’s journey of self discovery in the books, the narrative significance of her parallels to Lyanna, her bond with Nymeria and her warging talents. For those who are interested, here are two bloggers who actually like Arya and have written about her character and character arc.

https://donewithwoodenteeth.tumblr.com/meta-masterlist

https://ashotofjac.tumblr.com/tagged/arya-stark

Some of these same people will rush to condemn any reading of the books that does not have Sansa wielding power at the end as being ‘Sansa hate’. But they will have no issues to undermine and devalue Arya’s actual book story, the relationships she has, the parallels she has, the skillsets she has, her appearance, her importance to the current story happening in the North.

There is a whole ass plot currently in the books of Northerners rallying for Arya Stark and preparing for battle against the Boltons for Arya Stark. But that’s not important because it’s actually Jeyne Poole and Arya’s story is about sailing off west of westeros.  But hey, Sansa will definitely go North and hold power and that’s like 100% happening because we are the unbiased book experts and we say it is so.

Or when all else fails - Arya is a Mary Sue, she’s a fantasy character, she’s a ‘strong female character’ because she fights with a sword, people like her because she’s a tomboy who fights. Sansa is realistic, Sansa is complex - but here are all the essays that basically transfer Arya’s complexity and story to Sansa - because it fits more with their fave, because these aspects would fit better with the traditionally feminine character even though they never tire of talking about how GRRM is deconstructing tropes. Because the trope deconstruction is only applied to Arya, Jon and Dany. Never Sansa.

And honestly, why are these people reading a high fantasy series if they hate fantasy and fantasy characters so much? We love Sansa because she’s so non-magical! Then go read non-fiction books. They also twist Jon, Arya and Dany into ‘fantasy’ characters - despite these characters going through some very real and human experiences. What’s fantasy about Arya’s experiences in war torn Westeros, Jon dealing with bigotry at the wall, Dany trying to rebuild Meereen, while dealing with famine, disease and insurgency?

Or how Jon and Dany getting any kind of happy ending or becoming rulers would be so boring, sweet, predictable, conforming to tropes, a happy ending etc. But Sansa getting love, romance, going home, becoming the Stark in Winterfell, getting her fairy tale ending - that’s totally what GRRM is going to do! No trope deconstruction there!  In may ways, Benioff and Weiss’ ending is not all that surprising -  Mad Queen Dany, Jon remaining a bastard with the freefolk, Sansa having power as a leader - are all popular theories among bnfs in the fandom. D&D wanting to wind up the show quickly with easily found fan theories is not that much of a stretch.

ASoIaF reddit is equally frustrating. Instead of Sansa stan bnfs on tumblr who pretend to like Arya and Dany while subtly undermining their story and importance, on Asoiaf reddit it’s Stannis stans who dislike Jon and Dany because these characters present a challenge to Stannis. The mere suggestion that Jon may play a role in the battle against Ramsay sends them into frothing at the mouth rage. They hate Jon, Jon is a Gary Sue because he dared advice Stannis - the greatest general ever - on Northern military strategy. Never mind that Jon grew up in the North and learned from Ned, how dare Jon Snow know more than Stannis! Unacceptable!

And I love Stannis Baratheon. I want Stannis to crush and defeat the Boltons. But unlike reddit dudebros, I can see that he is a secondary character, a tragic character who is most probably going to perish and Jon takes over because Jon Snow is a central protagonist in the story.

I feel it’s the same with Sansa. IMO, GRRM clearly doesn’t see Sansa in the same way as he does Arya, Jon, Dany, Tyrion and Bran. Whenever he is asked questions about the books, book plots, long term arcs, endings, age gaps etc it’s these characters he often brings up and references. It’s these characters who are important to him.

And that’s why there’s a lot of undermining and undervaluing of these character’s and their stories, them being described as fantasy characters, tropes, Mary Sues and Gary Sues, ableist rhetoric about Tyrion and Bran to undermine them.

I am damned certain that if it was Sansa who had all the parallels to Lyanna, or if she was the warg, or Jeyne Poole was impersonating her, this would all be ‘VERY IMPORTANT’ and on all the gifsets and essays. But she isn’t. So fandom bnfs are reduced to talking about how these aspects are not all that important anyway.

It’s like how this quote - ‘You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts’ turns up on gifsets every other day on the Arya tag but this quote - ‘Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier of Arya had been a bastard, like her half brother Jon. And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered’ very rarely does and will not get reblogged when it does.

Or when Sansa sees Joffrey trying to kill Arya and sides with Joffrey or when Sansa throws Arya under the bus and tells the Lannisters that it’s Arya who is the traitor - just sisters being sisters y’all!

It’s all about maintaining a certain narrative about Sansa - and when others point out her actual relationship with Arya in the books, we are accused of hating and wanting Sansa dead and how we should be criticizing Tywin and the Mountain instead. This is nonsensical whataboutism and ignores that people talk about  these aspects of the books because sometimes bullying, getting mocked for one’s appearance, abuse and neglect from parental figures etc. can resonate with certain readers unlike getting one’s head smashed in by Frankenstein.

At the end of the day, I wish these people would be honest about the characters they like and relate to. We are all biased. That’s why our opinions and interpretations are subjective. There’s nothing wrong in saying, hey, I like Sansa more than Arya or Dany, I relate to her character more.

I relate to Jon Snow a lot, I see things from his POV, I would disagree with the characters who disagree with Jon,  I enjoy his story at the Wall and the North. My interpretations of the text are therefore colored by my bias towards Jon. 

For others, it’s Dany or Sansa or Arya or Tyrion or Jaime. And that’s okay because these are fictional characters and liking one more than the other is not going to earn anyone woke points and lead to women’s rights.

And finally, there’s nothing edgy or cool about disparaging the central protagonists of a high fantasy series as being fantasy characters - go read other books if one is not into fantasy.

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Hi, I'm back from finals, but my brain is kind of dead right now, so enjoy this silly two-shot in the meantime.

Word count: 996 | AO3

Summary: Roman needs to get on with the program, realise his crush on Virgil and ask him out, because it's getting ridiculous.

At least Janus thinks so. Everybody does.

A wild crush has appeared, except it was there all along, Roman is just dumb <3

“It’d be a pity if you got over yourself and told Virgil you loved him already. Not that I care about his happiness or anything”.

Roman turned to face the back of the room, where Janus was sitting with a lap full of Patton, who just shrugged in agreement with a quizzical smile.

The treacherous acceptance Patton showed after Janus’ out-of-the-blue comment almost made Roman gasp.

“I just said I want to hang out with him this week”.

“And marry him the month after that, I suppose” Janus retorted.

“Okay, first of all, nah-uh, and second of all, I’d have expected this outright attack for you, but, Patton, are you going to stand watching him bullying me?!”

Just when he was about to reply, Janus intervened again, pretending to be distracted playing with Patton’s curls.

“Not quite, let me rephrase that for you: bullying you into getting ahead in life”.

“Hello?” Roman gestured at himself, only to feel even more increpated by Janus’ glancing at him up and down. “I’m dashing at all times, it’s you who should be putting in the effort”.

As per usual, Janus smirked, unimpressed. He ran a finger, scratching lightly, up Patton’s neck. Underneath the cardigan, a pair of shoulders rolled in a contained shudder.

“I already have. You, though, have achieved nothing. Also, why am I detecting” Janus said, raising a hand to cup behind his ear, “a hint of defensiveness? Honestly… well… as honestly as the budget allows, I am saying this for your sake. Take notes or something, Roman”.

Roman’s weight shifted from one leg to the other, he crossed his arms and gasped, for real this time.

“Excuse me?”

“Excused. I’ll dictate it for you: number one, dot, Janus has made me realise my lack of ambition, comma, I will ask Virgil out”. Janus changed the tone for a second, considering. “Hmmm… let’s say, at once, sounds very you, doesn’t it? Blah, blah, no ambition, I’m very dim, I will ask Virgil out at once, full stop. New paragraph: number two, dot, from now on, comma, I shall listen to Janus’ advice, comma, because he’s so right all the time, full stop”.

Once Roman came out of his astonishment, he closed his gaping mouth and pursed his lips like a child.

“Okay, that’s it, you did this. I’m calling the nerd”.

Janus had no time to complain, as Logan was summoned immediately thereafter.

“Lo, are you okay?!” Patton stirred in place after seeing Logan’s looks.

There, in all bizarre glory, stood Logan, draped in a lab coat with some unidentified stains, knee-length black rubber boots, safety glasses with what dangerously looked like a speckle of blood and a pair of gloves holding a scalpel.

“Don’t worry Patton, he’s just been playing with Remus” Janus offered.

Logan examined the room quickly, then cleared up his throat and blinked himself into his usual attire.

“I was in the middle of something”.

“Clearly” Roman muttered sarcastically.

“What do you need?” Logan made a point to ignore Roman’s comment.

Janus smiled calmly.

“Roman just called you so you can prove him wrong”.

Before the prince could retort, Logan nodded with a vague hint of amusement.

“Well, I can certainly do that”.

“You won’t need to, because it’s him who’s saying” Roman paused and endeavoured to make his best impression of Logan, “falsehoods”.

Logan frowned and crossed his arms.

“That is to be expected, so what is the context?”

“He says I need to ask Virgil out because he’s always right”.

Roman went on saying something along the lines of ‘like, I like Virgil, but not like that. And he’s just implying I’m in love with him, and I would know because, hi, Roman, romance? And Patton isn’t even defending me!’. All of that, Logan didn’t listen to, deciding to speak plainly.

“That’s incorrect, Janus gets things wrong often, it is, in fact, a statistical improbability to be right all the time. But, to be fair, out of all of you, he holds a higher average”.

“Exactly, that’s what I said” Roman shook his hand forward as if to underline how justified he felt. A moment later he went quiet. “Wait…”

“No need. I’ll finish dispatching this soon. So, no, Janus is not always right, but you would do well to heed to his advice on this occasion, seeing how it would help resolve your feelings for Virgil”.

“What?”

“Thank you, Logan” Janus said.

Logan nodded, satisfied with a good job.

“No need, happy to help”.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Roman exclaimed. “I have no feelings for Virgil…” he reconsidered, “not like that!”

In a quick save, Logan hid his laugh with a frown and an inhale.

“Excellent example of being wrong, you’ll be a great help to Logan’s statistics” Janus grinned.

Everybody was looking at him.

Normally, he’d like that, because it was the natural order of things. At the present time, though, he felt paralysed by a sudden onslaught of contradicting feelings and thoughts. Unfortunately, all of these things running through his mind popped in and out too fast for him to process them as more than a jumble of nonsense.

That is to say, he drew a complete blank, cursing his ADHD.

“But-but… I’m not in” he started slowly, trying to organise his ideas.

Then, went down with the first thing to come out of his mouth because working under pressure is not his thing.

“Like, I spend a ton of time with him, but what do you know? And, honestly, you’re just jealous Virge pays more attention to me because he’s almost as great as me. By the way, Janus steals your crofters when you don’t look, someone has to say it, because we’re outing people’s secrets, except not mine’s ‘cause I’m not in love with…”

Patton stood up, knowing he’d have to help everyone brace themselves.

All at the same time, the following was spoken or shouted:

“Snitch!”

“He did what?!”

“Oh my... I’m in love with Virgil”

Next>>

Thx for reading. Reblog or comment if it made you laugh <3

Taglist: COME AT ME BRO, COME AT ME, write a comment and tell me to tag you for the next chapter, I DARE YOU /nm /lh /j