bf!jj helps kook!reader to ride a bike
warnings: none! fluff
i’ve been having writer’s block BUT i randomly got this idea and wanted to write it, i really miss writing fluff tbh :(
the moment jj heard you say those words, it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.
"i'm not even sure i know how to ride a bike anymore."
his eyes almost bulged out of his head like he was a cartoon character. you two had been laying in your bed, the boy's long fingers carding through your hair as you complained about how you had to take your car to a mechanic because it had been "making weird noise lately", and jj had simply chuckled, saying "well, sounds like you're gonna have to do it old school." when you furrowed your brows in confusion, he said, "you know, ride your bike, like when you were a kid."
that then led to you telling him about how while you had learned how to ride a bike when you were a kid, you hadn't done it in nearly ten years, and weren't even sure if you knew how to ride a bike, and the look he got on his face made you immediately regret ever telling him.
two days later, he appeared in front of your house, next to him a blue bicycle with a wicker basket.
"what's this?" you asked with a small pout on your glossy lips, making jj grin. "what, you don't even know what a bicycle looks like anymore, fancypants?"
"you know what i mean, jay." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, and the boy made his way over to you, putting his hands on your forearms and practically dragging you to the bicycle.
"i just borrowed this from sarah." he shrugged, ringing the bell before looking at you, an unsure look on your face, "come on, it's not like it'll kill you."
"how do you know? people die from trying new things all the time. all you know, i could be unable to break, and then a car runs over me. or i could fall off the bike and break my arm. or, what if i crack my skull on the pavement?"
"well, this is not a new thing for you. this is just you... trying something again after a long time. come on, baby. don't be a pussy. and i did forget to get a helmet, but..." jj mumbled, taking his cap off his head and placing it on yours, a self-satisfied grin on his face, "this ought to soften the blow."
"you know you can be fined for not wearing a helmet?"
"well that'd be accurate 'cause you've got fine-"
"do not finish that sentence, maybank."
"sorry." he scratched the back of his neck, watching as you got onto the bike, his usual smirk taking over his lips. you took a deep breath, looking down at your feet, placing one of them on the pedal while the other one still rested on the pavement. "just take deep breaths. it's muscle memory like... well, riding a bike."
you didn't even need to look at him to know that he had that usual stupid grin on his face, so you simply kicked back the kickstand, and put your other foot on the pedal, and like jj had said, it was muscle memory; all the memories of you racing on bicycles with your friends when you were younger came back to you, and it was like you'd never stopped doing it.
until it wasn't.
you weren't even sure what had happened, but as you were trying to brake, your balance went off and the bike started wobbling, and before you knew it, you were on the ground with your knee covered in blood, the red liquid now dripping onto the concrete.
"shit!" jj rushed over to you, kneeling down next to you, and without even thinking, he took off his shirt and wrapped it around your knee as a makeshift-bandage. he scratched his chin, looking at you with an apologetic look. "are you alright, babe? i really shouldn't have-"
"i wanna try it again." you stated with a grin, much to his bafflement.
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"Life Cycle of a Maggot" Idia Shroud x GN Reader
Synopsis: The evolution of your relationship with Idia, as compared to a fly.
A/N: I guess I was kind of experimenting with this one, tbh I don’t know how great I wrote his character but enjoy the angst at least.
Word Count: ~1.7k
Warnings: angst, Idia/reader both implied to be depressed
Phase 1: Egg
Flies deposit eggs into rotting organic material.
…and there couldn’t have been a better description of him when you found him. Rotting material.
He spent nearly every waking moment immersed in technology. It felt natural, always having been surrounded by it. It almost felt like home.
Only almost though. Because nowhere truly did anymore.
He could never find solace from the painful memories in the forefront of his mind. Despite his best efforts they always stayed there. He couldn’t think of ‘home’ without thinking of his failures, of his regrets, of Ortho…
So he stayed online. In a space he could control, where everything worked the way it was supposed to, where there was no school or anxiety or brother to remember. He neglected himself, his body, in favor of the computer screen.
He couldn’t name a single other student he considered a friend, and as much as he needed his own space it had started becoming lonely. He couldn’t remember if he’d gotten all of his homework done, and he didn’t particularly care. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept right. Or if he had even had a full meal on any given day. He certainly felt like he was rotting, and he was sure he looked it too.
And then you came into the picture.
He knew of you before you met, he’d heard of you in the short moments he spent with the student body. You hardly spoke a word to anyone and could barely bring yourself to make eye contact. Notorious for being shy, nobody could list a single other thing about you.
When he begrudgingly had to partner up with someone for a potionology assignment, he looked around the room with a knot in his stomach. Everyone was finding their partners easily, forcibly reminding him of the wall of isolation he’d created for himself. While he was debating whether or not to just ask for 0 and move on, you were walking up behind him.
When you lightly tapped on his arm to get his attention, he turned to find your nervous face staring down at the floor.
“Do you have a partner yet?” He shook his head no at you. “Will you be mine then?”
He considered his options. He could risk getting stuck with someone random, take the 0 like he wanted to before or give you a shot. He didn’t know anything about you, but the more you uneasily rocked back and forth, the more certain he felt you’d be someone he could handle personality-wise. At least compared to your other peers. And unless he wanted to risk ending up like Leona, he really needed to get his grades together.
“…S-sure.” Is all he offered in response. But that seemed enough for your shoulders to drop in relief, and for you to finally look at him. The small smile you wore confused him, why would anyone be happy they got stuck with him?
“Thank you. We could just call to work on it if you didn’t want to meet for real.”
That was…surprisingly considerate. He guessed he made the right choice after all.
Phase 2: Maggot
Maggots will eat the rotting material around them. They thrive in their environment of decaying matter.
Calls about the project turned into much more rather quickly. It felt like one day you were a stranger, the next you were pouring your hearts out to each other.
Misery loves company, and your company was inexplicably inviting. You made him want to unleash everything he suppressed. All the suffering his pride wouldn’t let him show, he wanted to share with you. Somehow he just knew you’d get it, you’d understand what nobody else could.
He isn’t proud of the trauma-dumping that ensued at the end of a meaningless hang out one day. He’d granted you access to his room, to meet in person for the first time. The reality of which set in immediately after you arrived. That you had accepted his invitation to his space, that he wasn’t alone in that moment. And an innocent “Are you alright?” from you ended up being enough to break him.
He cried, he gasped for air, he thought he remembered screaming but he wasn’t sure. He fell to the floor with his head in hands, sobbing and blubbering about everything weighing on him. He knew he blew it big time, melting down the second you showed up. He knew you’d leave, you had no obligation to help his pathetic self after all.
He didn’t expect tears from you as well. It shocked him so much his crying nearly halted.
You detailed your own struggles to him. Your own struggle to fit in and feel accepted, and the loneliness that came with it. Your own regrets, things you’d give anything to change. You sat across from him on the floor, tears falling gently as you rambled and rambled.
He didn’t know what came over him, but he put his hand out. He flinched when you actually took it, but didn’t let go. He managed a meager smile as he relished in the peace he’d found with you. You sit in silence for a while.
He’s visibly relieved when you agree to try hanging out again sometime. Relieved he’d finally found someone to rot with.
Vent sessions became regular, though not as emotional as the first. You became his only confidant. You were almost always in his space or talking to him online. It was almost obsessive, and he loved it.
You both fell further into solitude, into your own despair, but together. You thrived in it, and so did he. It was the best kind of miserable he had felt in a long time.
Phase 3: Pupae
Maggots then encase themselves in a puparium, where the maggot's body will begin changing.
Of course, it couldn’t last forever.
You started hanging out with him less, turning him down when he’d invite you to play games or vent like you had been. He tried not to take it personally, remembering how much he loved to self-isolate when he was especially down. Maybe you were going through something extra rough right now, and you wanted your space from him. He’s down the same to a lot of people, so he couldn’t blame you.
Until he realized how naive it was to think that was what had you busy. He was rushing to class to turn in a paper he had to finish without your help when he spotted you in the hall.
It was nothing like the first time he saw you. Or any time he’d seen you when you two were alone.
You had people around you, a small group. They spoke to you. You spoke to them. You weren’t looking at the floor, you were looking at one of their faces. You laughed at something they said and he felt his chest tighten.
Worst of all, you were positively beaming.
He immediately felt bad for thinking that. He should want to see you smiling like that. If he cared about you, he would want you to be branching out, making new friends. Especially when you had expressed how alone you felt.
He did care, just maybe not in the way he was meant to.
Because he couldn’t bring himself to be happy for you. Because he recognized where this was going to head immediately.
You were changing. Somehow, some way, you were finding the strength to grow. Strength he knew he would never find himself.
He didn’t bring it up the next time you met in his dorm. But he felt it, the difference in the atmosphere. Like his negativity and sorrow didn’t reach you the same way anymore. Not like you didn’t care, but like you couldn’t relate the same way. But he pushed those thoughts down for as long as he could, not wanting to admit the reality of the situation.
You were changing. And he simply was not.
Phase 4: Fly
Eventually, a fly will emerge from the casing to leave and continue on with its general life cycle.
Rain checks turned to missed calls turned to ghosting altogether.
His pride wouldn’t let him beg for your attention, but he missed it. He mourned it. Grieved the friendship that really never was, but meant so much to him.
He resented you for it, but a part of him couldn’t blame you. You were nothing like him now.
He spent even more time in his room if that was possible. But on the rare occasion he’d leave for class and spot you, you always had people with you. People who could be funny and casual, people who could hold a conversation without saying something depressing, people who you could do activities outside of school with. People who weren’t him, or anything like him.
You were kind enough not to say it, but he could see it with his own eyes. How he had become a burden to you, a weight on your chest. While you were trying to improve yourself he only ever got worse.
You weren’t content to rot, clearly. You had this ambition, this drive to escape the hell you had created for yourself and start over. You would always understand him and his pain, but you had pushed through your own misery and found yourself happier. And with no room left for him and his lack thereof.
You were moved on. Because what was temporary weakness for you was eternal for him, like his curse.
Had he known that from the beginning, he would’ve never gotten involved. He had to figure out what you were, but he knew right from the start what he was.
You had flown away, sprouted wings and left the rot behind. Like you were meant to.
And he was a hungry, starving maggot. And always would be.
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