#I miss the idea of summer (not at all actually least favourite season if I could travel the world -

[gludgenbell]

+ without everything else bcs I rlly liked the way I colored skin

[starry-mist]

S4e12 thoughts:

This is my favourite episode of the season (and one of my top ten overall.) It's also the hardest one for me to watch. I had to watch it twice to really formulate my thoughts.

We have my favourite trope of Charlie and Sarah stuck/isolated somewhere. Avalon Island. Dreamy. Quiet. Remote.

I'll get some of the non-Charah details out of the way first.

Kevin Hanchard and Maurice Dean Wint play off each other so well. They really shine in their scenes together.

I hadn't seen Murdoch Mysteries yet at this point, so didn't know who Thomas Craig was but I enjoyed him greatly in this episode.

The script is solid. Taf Diallo I believe has only written two episodes so far and I've loved both.

I love the overall feel of this episode. Shoutout to the addition of the bagpipes to some of the show's usual musical themes, it really worked.

Rex and the sheep. Rex taking home the toy sheep. I headcanon that Sarah has one too.

Shoutout to the nod to Mayko Nguyen's seasickness with that "at least the boat ride wasn't so bad" line. (Note how we never see her on the boat itself.)

Same actor, different character: We last saw Paul Warford in s2 as the dead food scientist in Finger Foodie. Now we have Gordo. Long live Gordo.

Sadly I did not have a chance to visit Brigus South when I was in Newfoundland last summer. Will definitely have it on the list for a future visit. It looks gorgeous.

Okay, so, Charah time:

First of all, I remember the show's social accounts posting the almost-kiss scene as "a moment many of you have been waiting for," and um, NO, that was NOT the moment.

So, we have Sarah still keeping Michael at literal arms' length outside the bullpen when he wants to go in for a kiss. And Charlie sort of half-pretending he doesn't have his back up at the other man's presence outside the bullpen. Way to set the scene for some tension.

The almost-kiss. If there were ever a blatant sign that Charlie is Not Okay, it’s that scene. Dude has been cheated on. That he would even consider kissing Sarah who by all accounts is "happy" in her relationship...huge red flag.

Charlie can’t stop staring at Sarah's cheek the first time they interview the kid who was shot. The second time, Sarah can't stop touching her cheek/lip. Yeah, we get it, they're distracted by their "moment."

Sarah asking Charlie if he's considering getting a quiet place for him and Rex, and Charlie's "you have to grow old with someone"...Charlie, you do realize dogs don't live forever, right? But yeah I think we're supposed to take this as Charlie resigning himself to forever being alone...sigh.

Charlie, get your shit together.

So I've done a little research into Fogo Island and damn, a weekend away there would not come cheap. Hitting that plot point does sort of underscore the "maybe Sarah's thinking about taking things with Michael a bit more seriously" idea. But her bringing it up right after Charlie expresses his doubts about growing old with someone...there's a ton of subtext there. And in case we didn't quite catch it, Charlie then stops the golf cart thing they're driving and says his "there's no manual for this" line, echoing Sarah's earlier line about there being no manual for a relationship. This whole exchange is them talking about their feelings for each other without actually talking about their feelings for each other.

Red flags. Red flags everywhere.

Though how much did I need them to miss their boat and get stuck at the B&B? A girl can dream...

(Shoutout to wardrobe for putting them in matching sweaters, BTW.)

So at what point does Sarah decide that she needs to give things with Michael a real chance? I would say it's when Charlie talks about his house full of motorcycle parts, and they cut to her expression, and damn, is Mayko ever good at reacting. The last time (that we've seen on screen, so let's go with it) she was at his house was Dark Web. My logic goes with that being the reason she kind of pulls away by the end of the episode and goes off to see where things go with Michael. It's overly simplistic, but it works. I think she's also realising how very not okay Charlie is, and doesn't know how to express her concern, but that's a topic for later in the season.

Charlie, Sarah, really, get your collective shit together.

The ending scene crushes me every time, even though I know it's coming. The heartbreak, the lies they tell each other, the look on Charlie's face as he watches Sarah walk away.

Gah. I love it. It's so perfectly angsty.

Stellar episode, 10/10, will always have a special place in my heart.

[tomwambsmilk]

Alright, here's my actual reasoning for the bottom ten episodes. A couple of things before we start - number one, all this is relative. These are the bottom ten episodes of a show with only 34 episodes so far. Honestly, the only one of these I think is actively not-good is Lifeboats, and even that I'm not sure I'd go so far as to call it Bad. It has just enough redeeming qualities that I feel uncomfortable calling it that.

Number two - I'm judging each of these episodes as a whole. Most of them have individual moments that I quite like. But, when I'm ranking an entire episode, I'm not just asking how much I enjoyed those individual beats. I'm also asking - how well were the plotlines of the episode thematically integrated? How did this episode serve the various season and character arcs? Individual character beats work best when they're integrated into one big tapestry, pointing towards the same idea or cluster of ideas. Some of the best episodes - All the Bells Say, Chiantishire, This is Not For Tears - do that beautifully, and that ends up becoming the metric by which I'm measuring other episodes. I know what Succession can do, and so an otherwise good episode that doesn't measure up can sometimes be a bit disappointing.

Let's get started:

10. Dundee (2.08)

Honestly, I think I might like Dundee better if it came at a different place in the season. Season two as a whole is incredibly driven - it touches on a lot of different things, sure, but from the jump it's always driving towards positioning Shiv as a potential successor, the Pierce deal, or cruises (and all the thematic implications therein). All of those hit really crucial points in the Ternhaven-Argestes-Return combo (which also re-introduces Kendall and the waiter) - and then we hit Dundee.

I'm not going to say Dundee's not important - it is - but it's an episode that feels to me like it's doing a lot to set up the season endgame, and consequently is missing the kind of emotional and character beats that make succession really tick. There's some stuff, sure - obviously the shiv + logan stuff at the dinner is important. But ultimately, they're mostly trying to get everyone and everything in position to be able to tie it all together in DC and This Is Not For Tears. They're reintroducing the idea of Shiv as successor so that her sacrifice in the finale will be meaningful; they're developing the cruises plotline enough to jump right into the hearings next episode; they're setting Ewan up to potentially cut off Greg to incentivize him to give Kendall the papers; they're highlighting Kendall's malaise and hero-worship of Logan. And those kinds of episodes - where it feels a like the gears of the story are showing a bit too much - tend to be my least favourite (a lot of the episodes on this list fall into that category imo). Here, it's a bit more pronounced coming where it is in the season - there's a dip in the season flow that feels a bit jarring, at least to me.

There is some fun stuff in here. L to the OG, obviously, is iconic; I also love the sibling dynamics around them scheming to get rid of Rhea. And we come to a fuller understanding of who Logan is as a person; that's this episode's main redeeming quality, and why it's so high on the list. Again, this is an episode that's not bad. It's a good episode. I like it. It's just nowhere near what Succession is capable of when it's firing on all cylinders.

9. The Summer Palace (2.01)

You'll notice that the premieres of the first 3 seasons are all on this list, and that's because I think Succession struggles with premieres. It's not even really their fault! It's sort of the nature of the show. There are episodes that set the table and episodes that smash everything on the table onto the ground, and there are episodes that are doing both at the same time. You need to set the table for the smashing to really hit. But what makes Succession, Succession, is how beautifully it executes the smashing of the table and makes it thematically resonant and ties together every other plotline that's been happening in the process. The episodes that are pure table-setting? They tend not to have the Secret Succession Sauce.

And that's honestly my main complaint with Summer Palace. It's ALL table setting. All of it! Every scene and beat of this episode is establishing important information that we'll need to carry through the rest of the season. Now, that doesn't mean it's bad. There are a lot of great character moments woven in through the table-setting - and obviously, the queen of those moments is Logan offering Shiv the CEO position. Again, this is a good episode, and I like it. Of the first 3 premieres, I think it's the strongest (season 4 premiere blows them all out of the water imo). But it doesn't have the kind of emotional payoff that, for me, is part of what makes for an excellent episode of Succession.

8. Sad Sack Wasp Trap (1.04)

This one almost pains me to say, because I love all the Tom scenes in this episode, and I think it's a really, really crucial episode in his arc. It's also the episode I force people to watch until, because I think this is where Succession starts to get good (largely because this is where the plot starts moving). And. Again. It is a good episode. It's just not a very good episode.

It's weak points? One is that it hasn't quite figured out Roman as a character. The Roman-Grace stuff never worked for me, mostly because it feels too on the nose. "Guy gets off on petty exertions of power" is an old and boring and tired plotline. Later episodes and seasons would manage to nuance that idea phenomenally well, but they haven't hit that sweet spot yet, and so Roman is still kind of a caricature of spoiled rich toxic masculinity.

I think they're still figuring out Kendall as well, although he's nowhere near as rough as Roman. The Kendall-Logan conflict in this episode feels a little too petty - and not in the sense of the show making a commentary on its pettiness. Most of the conflict surrounds the idea of public perception; I think the dynamic really finds its stride in later episodes when it a) becomes more about the question of Logan competently running the business and b) is carrying all the implications that come with the how the family and business dynamics are conjoined.

7. Shit Show at the Fuck Factory (1.02)

Not to sound like a broken record, but. It is a good episode! I like it! But no, I don't think it's a very good episode.

The problem with Succession's first three episodes is that they're the worst kind of table-setting - it's table-setting where you don't know the characters well enough to understand the stakes or the significance. Shit Show is, in my opinion, much better on a rewatch when you know what's going on. But the first viewing is tough. It packs a lot of character work into the runtime, to the extent that I think it's almost overwhelming, and it's made more so by your lack of orientation. You don't actually know what the established relationships are yet, so each scene and interaction is giving you a fuckton of new info to parse very quickly before it hits you with something else. And a lot of it - more than usual - gets lost because of that. You don't know enough about Roman to understand why he's constantly standing outside the window staring at Logan. You don't know enough about Kendall to understand the full complexity of his feelings about his father. You don't know enough about Shiv to understand her relationship to the company and how this impacts her relationship to her brothers. And that's why the episode is so much better when you rewatch it after you do know all of that.

(Normally, that speed and energy is one of Succession's strengths, but it's just too soon in the story to work effectively here.)

That being said, the character work in this episode is quite good! The character work is, I think, even better than the 3 episodes that I ranked higher on this list. But I think the fact that it relies so heavily on knowledge you don't have is a relatively serious problem with the writing, which is why it makes the list.

6. Secession (3.01)

This is the episode which takes us out of the territory of "good but not very good". This episode is not bad, but it is also not good. It's fine. It's just fine. It is a thoroughly mediocre hour of television.

In a lot of ways, I think part of the problem with Secession comes with the structure of the first two episodes. Mass in Time of War (a top ten episode for me) is an episode that is all about character dynamics to the exclusion of all else. That's good! It works really well! But it means that Secession's runtime is spent getting everything in place for that. It's getting Roman and Shiv into the room by giving them reasons to potentially 'defect' to Kendall, it's rushing through all the necessary plot dynamics of establishing the public response to the press conference, the White House response, how this impacts the shareholder meeting, the risk to Logan and him fleeing to Bosnia, etc. Tom and Shiv are still on shaky ground, Greg is still on Kendall's side, Karolina was blindsided. Connor is.... there. Roman and Gerri are forming an alliance.

It feels to me like a lot of box-checking. We don't spend enough time delving into any one plot point for it to be meaningful, and that leads to a feeling of some wasted opportunities. Like shivlisa - we learn Lisa exists, we learn she and Shiv were friends, we learn Kendall wants her, and then we have one (1) shivlisa convo and now Lisa's off the table. That could have had some real significance for Shiv as a character, but because they need to gallop through so much plot to set up 1.02 it becomes a strange perfunctory thing that feels more significant than it is. Some of that's unavoidable, but I do think that episode needed a once-over with a fine-tooth comb because I think they could have shaved off enough runtime to make the other stuff matter.

5. Lion in the Meadow (3.04)

Yes, yes, the nero-sporus episode. That's a great scene! It's maybe one of the best scenes in the episode!

..... And that's a problem.

First of all... What a waste of Adrien Brody. Have you seen his other work? He does a great job, but I think if you've cast Adrien Brody in exactly one episode you should write him a character marginally more interesting than Josh Aaronson, the epitome of Wealthy Shareholder Plot Device.

Ultimately this sort of feels like a Nothing episode to me. It's not even a table-setter, really, aside from the nero-sporus scene, the thing about getting Ravenhead to go after the president, and Greg abandoning Kendall, all of which could have been part of a different, more interesting episode. Every other character beat feels, to me, like a rehash of something we already know. There's nothing new in the Logan-Kendall relationship, the Roman plotline is so weak I continually forget he does anything in this episode, and we didn't need all of that to establish that no one at the company respects Shiv bc I think we knew that already. You could lift this entire episode out of season 3 (and just shift a few scenes backwards into Disruption or forwards into Retired Janitors) and the rest of the season would hit more or less exactly the same.

4. Austerlitz (1.07)

This is maybe my most controversial one bc I know a lot of people love Austerlitz. And I do want to acknowledge its strong points - Jeremy Strong and Brian Cox are both in peak form here, I think.

The problem with Austerlitz, though, is that it's an episode that feels (to me) a bit too loud and clumsy in what it's trying to do. I think Succession's best dialogue lets you read between the lines. It traffics in no one ever actually saying what it is they mean. I think you can contrast Kendall and Logan's confrontation in this episode with, say, their scenes in This Is Not For Tears and Chiantishire - both episodes where some significant truths are being dropped on the table, but they're still sort of covered in a veneer. If you squint it could maybe mean something different than what it actually does.

In contrast, the scene in the kitchen is blunt. "You resent what you've given your children", "You're marrying a man fathoms beneath you because you're afraid of being betrayed", all the dialogue about "evil uncle Noah". Jeremy Strong and Brian Cox do amazing work with it, but it's a lot of characters saying things that, yes, are very true, and yes, it's significant because it's been otherwise unsaid, but veers away from the sort of linguistic gymnastics that characterize other, better episodes in favour of heavy-handed family drama. And what's the lasting impact? Kendall feels better for talking shit about Logan, but he's still a mess. Logan doesn't care. There's no overall shift in the family dynamic coming out of this episode. To me, the whole enterprise feels like the writers pulling out a bullhorn and going "okay, it's really really important that you've figured out all this stuff we've been implying for six episodes so in case you haven't already we're just going to make it really abundantly clear with flashing lights and arrows etc." And sometimes you need to do that, but Succession's strength in later seasons is very much its subtlety and ambiguity, and Austerlitz is about as far from subtle and ambiguous as it gets.

3. I Went to Market (1.05)

I get conflicted about this one's placement on the list because it does have a really interesting thematic throughline about the transactional nature of relationships on Succession. Tom and Shiv's prenup, Greg shredding the documents, Connor and Willa 'going steady', Marcia advocating for her son - all of it taps into the idea of trying to negotiate an even exchange when one party holds more power than another. Tying that all together with a Thanksgiving celebration is a clever stroke on the writers' part.

But I think all of that gets undercut by the relative lethargy of the episode. The problem is that season 1 is anchored around Kendall and Logan's conflict, which, in 1.05 is centred around Kendall planning the vote of no confidence. But he's too early in the planning for the audience to really feel the urgency or the stakes, and consequently, that leaves the rest of the episode feeling a bit lethargic (something that's especially apparent in comparison to the energy of 1.06). We get a bunch of really interesting windows into the relationships of characters who are not Kendall, but it sort of feels like we're just waiting around for the plot to start again. We can't really explore any dynamic (outside of Tom and Greg and cruises) in a way that also moves the plot forward, so the episode turns into a bunch of little character vignettes strung together. And that's not helped by the fact that it sits where it does in the season; we just had the conflict between the two of them start moving and now it's idling again? It's really an issue of pacing more than anything else, but it's a big enough issue that I think it undercuts the stuff in the episode that is really good, and that's why it's so low on the list.

2. Celebration (1.01)

This is another one that I kind of feel bad about because... well. It's the pilot! For one thing, it was filmed before they'd written the rest of the season. For another, it actually does a really, really, good job of establishing a lot of key character information very quickly. And obviously a pilot is going to have normal Pilot Problems, like wives and children who are suddenly no longer wives and children in episode 2.

But unfortunately, I don't think Celebration is a great showcase of what makes Succession special. And maybe it was never going to be, because maybe that's not the kind of stuff that works well in a pilot. But, judging each episode on its own merits... There's nothing in Celebration to indicate that this is going to be a particularly unique or interesting or nuanced exploration of family drama and abuse and the corruption of capitalism. There's nothing bad about it either, and there are a lot of very interesting seeds being planted for sure. But honestly, there's a reason the near-universal critical reaction to the first few episodes was a whole bunch of eye-rolling and "what, are we supposed to feel sorry for these people?"

It does play better on a rewatch, much like Shit Show, but again - I do think it's a problem when an episode becomes good on a rewatch rather than being initially good and becoming better. And I feel bad saying it, because I'm not sure how they could have made it better. Maybe they couldn't have. But it still has to come in near the bottom because of it.

Lifeboats (1.03)

This is the one episode I actively dislike. It's not good. I don't think it's good. It's definitely closer to bad than good. Is it Bad with a capital B? Maybe not. But it's definitely not good.

Listen. I understand why it is what it is. The purpose of Lifeboats is to broaden the scope of the show and introduce us to the world of Waystar. Fine. It had to happen. But did it have to happen so.... blandly? It's the only episode where the business side actually is the most important thing happening, and where it can't really be understood from context clues and yet is never clearly explained, and that's a massive stumbling block. I know more than a couple people who've given up the show here on the assumption the whole thing was going to be like this. It's rough.

And on top of that, I think this episode is home to some of the most obvious possible character beats, which always annoys me with any show but especially annoys me when I know what Succession is capable of. Roman masturbating onto the window is one that makes me go yeah, okay, we get it. And yeah, sure, it's part of the bodily fluid motif, but it's also something a cartoon villain would do. It's one of the extremely rare moments on Succession I'd actively categorize as bad writing.

I also think the scene with Logan and Shiv is poorly written, and it frustrates me because it had the potential to be really interesting. But I don't think its a moment that's grounded enough in an existing Logan-Shiv dynamic for us to really know what it means (at least on a first watch), and so it leaves the audience disturbed but mostly just confused, and unsure as to specifically how this is relevant.

There's some good stuff in this episode, but the good stuff is good in an "oh thats a fun scene to watch", not an "oh this tells me something about a character" kind of way. So ultimately, this one has to come in at the bottom for me.

[sp00kworm]

Sensei, Sensei

Pairing: Kirishima Tooru x Female Reader 

Word Count: 3644

Warnings: Sexual Content, Unsafe sex, Closet Sex, Stranger Sex

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The summer air was warm against your skin as you walked along the pathways of the small city festival. This far out of the city, there wasn’t too many people walking around. It was far out, in one of the larger local parks, and you were glad to be away from the hustle and bustle for even just an evening. Thinking of the stress of your teaching job was enough to make your head hurt again. Children were difficult even when they were at their most well behaved. Snack time only did so much to sate twenty little humans, after all. You tried to ignore the idea as you looked over the skewers on a food stall. Most of it was seafood, and at least a quarter of it was seasoned squid, a favourite in the local area. There were far too many choices, and the stall owner sighed through his nose, forcing you to make a decision. One squid skewer in hand, and a few yen lighter, you headed past the rest of the food stalls and on towards the fun fair games, dodging the small children and couples, arm in arm, as you went. The last thing you needed was to knock over someone and have to spend time apologising, or worse, finding some kids parents because they were hurt.

 It was as though the universe was laughing at you it seemed.

 As you rounded the corner you slammed into someone. The little girl went flying, her red hair flopping over her face as she hit the floor with a soft thud. Her hands grazed the pebbles in the dirt, and you rushed to kneel down and get a good look at them. The girl’s large red eyes were watery, and you hushed her softly as you carefully brushed the grit from her grazes.

“I’m so sorry!” You rushed out before you reached for your handkerchief and a bottle of water. You wet the cloth before gently wiping her hands. Turning her palms back and forth, you were sure that she only had minor grazes. You sighed in relief.

“It’s okay, Miss…” The girl looked from her hands to your face, squirming uncomfortably before fresh tears dripped down her face, “A-Actually…I’ve lost Kirishima.”

“Kirishima?” You asked, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Her face went red, almost like a tomato, and the girl flapped for a moment before she shook her head vehemently, ‘no’.

A laugh made her startle, and you patted her head gently, “Sorry but you’re very sweet…ah, what is your name?”

The little girl pouted and sniffled before she wiped her eyes, “Yaeka.” She offered quietly.

“Well, Yaeka, how about I help you find Kirishima?” You offered before you wiped her face with the clean side of the handkerchief.

“You will?” Yaeka seemed to brighten a little as she took your hand and stood up.

 You dusted her knees gently before taking her hand firmly. It wasn’t the safest place for a child to be running around.

“Of course, I will! I can’t leave you here all alone…” You leaned in conspiratorially to whisper into her ear, “I’ve heard the fish monger is a goblin in disguise! You might get on his nerves!”

Yaeka startled, and looked over at the man, “Really?” She whispered.

“Oh yes. He’s even more upset because of the man who ruined the carnival game earlier!” You told her before pointing towards the exit where the seating area was.

“That was Kirishima!” She told you, her eyes bright with glee, “He told the man his game was bad! And he won me a big bunny!”

“Oh, so that was Kirishima? I bet he’s really cool, huh?” You asked with a smile.

Yaeka nodded her head as she followed you towards the benches, “Uhuh. I want to be as nice as Kirishima is one day.” She told you, her face red with embarrassment. You could only chuckle. It seemed as though she liked this man a lot.

 The seating area was relatively full, and you hummed, looking around before you asked Yaeka if she could spot Kirishima anywhere.

“No.” She pouted, upset, “I can’t see him anywhere.”

You thought for a moment before kneeling down, “How about you get on my shoulders, that way you might be able to point him out to me?”

“Maybe…” Yaeka nodded, “He’s very tall so we might be able to spot him.” She told you as she sat on your shoulders, peering around in the gloom.

“Where did you last see him?” You asked as you set off through the tables, “That might help us find him.”

Yaeka hummed, thinking as she glanced around, “I lost him on the hill…” She mumbled.

“Oh? Where the flavoured ices are?” You asked her. Yaeka nodded in response, and you turned to head towards the stalls again.

 “Little Lady!”

 Yaeka’s head whipped in the direction of the call, and you turned slowly, following her gaze along the top of the small grass hill.

“Little Lady! I told you not to run off.” The man called as he trotted down the hill, his blue hair flopping over his glasses. He smirked when he spotted you as well, his eyes giving you a once over, in a way which made you feel small. Within a few seconds, you knew he had a grasp on how much of a threat you were. He was tall, as Yaeka said, and he scooped her off your shoulders quickly before plonking her on the floor by his feet.

“Who is this, Little Lady?”

“Ah, this lady helped me find you, Kirishima!” She told him as he gripped her hand tight.

“Oh, did she?” Kirishima hummed as he offered his hand, lamely, “Then thanks. I was worried sick about her.”

You took a breath before you dared to take his hand, and his grip was strong as he shook your hand with his own. His palms were rough and calloused, and you swallowed at the peak of thick, black tattoos out of the bottom of his shirt.  

 The crisp outfit made you reconsider. The tattoos were the second give away, and you felt ice water run down your back as the pieces connected in your head. Yakuza. Kirishima smirked as your brain clicked into place, and he let your hand go before turning, Yaeka in hand, and waving.

“Thanks for finding her. The boss would have killed me for real this time if something happened to her.” Kirishima yawned as he walked away.

“Boss? You’re not her father?” You asked meekly.

Kirishima turned, his blue eyes flashing behind his glasses. There was a churning delight at the torture behind the glass lenses, though he would deny it if Sugihara asked him.

“No. I’m her babysitter.” Kirishima drawled before he cracked the fingers in his hands, “And if you have a problem with that then…”

“No!” You jumped in before smiling awkwardly, “I just think its…Well at least Yaeka has someone to come to this with, even if her father can’t make the time himself.”

 Kirishima took a moment to look you up and down again before his fanged smile was back, his head churning with possibilities, “Say, Little Lady? How about we invite your new friend over for dinner as a ‘thank you’ gift?”

Yaeka looked up with delight on her face, “Would Papa be okay with it?” She asked.

“Leave your old man to me.” Kirishima chuckled, “But how about we exchange numbers then?”

Your guts churned, telling you it was a bad idea, “Sure.” You replied still, opening your phone to type in Kirishima’s number despite the uneasy feeling he radiated. You let him type his number in and scowled at the silly rose on the end of it before Yaeka interrupted your train of thought.

“Thank you for helping me, miss.” She bowed and smiled.

“You’re most welcome, Yaeka.” Your heart melted a little, but it was quickly put back together as Kirishima laughed and smirked between the two of you.

“How cute, Little Lady, you have a new friend!” He teased her.

Yaeka huffed, pouting before she took his hand and dragged him up the hill, ignoring his jabs at her blush before they were both out of sight and blended back into the crowds of the festival.  

 A message the next day came to you while the children were on lunch. You looked up from your marking to check your phone. The message was from Kirishima.

‘The boss has invited you for dinner.’

Short. It was almost rude in its tone, and you scowled at the screen before it beeped again.

‘Its Kirishima by the way. Dinner is at seven. Looking forwards to seeing you again, teacher lady.”

You couldn’t think of a reply which didn’t sound rude, so instead, you replied with a confirmation and went back to eating, shovelling rice into your mouth around marking the workbooks you had left to get through. Another text message popped through at the end of lunch, but you ignored it as you put away your lunch boxes and headed out into the yard to go and collect your class. The phone, left on silent, continued to buzz, unknowingly, in the bottom of your bag, for the rest of the afternoon as you taught, and eventually finished for the day. You only looked again as you finished, packing your marking to take home over the weekend. Your phone lit up with the notifications. You had twelve messages, all from Kirishima. The man had messaged you at least twice an hour since lunch time, and you blinked at the innate, random messages, and the mess of fanged emojis before replying that you would see him later on.

 ‘Finally, you respond.’

Kirishima snarked a few more messages as you continued to ignore him. With a scoff, you left his messages unread as you debated not showing at all. The family were no doubt dangerous and notorious, but you had to pay your respects to Yaeka’s true father. He had invited you, so it would be rude to ignore his request. You sighed as you got home and laid your marking on your table. Looking over the books, you sighed, knowing you needed to finish it before you went out for dinner. Another job to do. With a large sigh, you went to get a drink, get changed, and get started on the marking before you had to go to dinner. You cracked your arms and threw your blanket over your shoulders as you collected your pens, and got started marking the maths workbooks, dreading the buzzing noise of your phone in your bag.

 Kirishima’s harassment halted in the evening, and you marked your books without any hassle before you rushed to get showered and changed into something more formal. There was only enough time to quickly get ready and you headed out a little late to get to the residence that Kirishima had messaged you. You arrived in the area, looking at the men stood outside, their jackets hiding the leather harnesses strapped to them. Guns and knives were no doubt hidden beneath the fabric, and you had no will to find out. Instead, you avoided looking the men in the eyes as you headed to the gate, raising a fist to knock. One of them lit his cigarette before he stopped your fist with his palm and a sneer.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth.

“Uh…I’m here to see...” You struggled to remember the name of Yaeka’s father, floundering under the man’s intense gaze before he was shoved away from you.

“She’s here to see the boss, Hiruguma, so keep your hands off.” Kirishima snarked as he pushed open the gate for you, dressed in trousers and a shirt, but this time he had a navy tie and a black suit jacket on as well.

 There was a brief moment where you registered just how handsome Kirishima was. His hair was properly styled, his glasses polished and his eyes cold and sharp. He almost seemed like a mobster out of a cheesy romance movie. His blue eyes turned down and you flinched as he smirked and nodded his head for you to enter first.

“After you, teacher.” Kirishima teased, delighted at the scowl he got in return as you stepped through the gate and onto the grounds. The yakuza lacky followed you with a smile, unsettlingly quiet as he directed you through the well-kept gardens towards the large traditional house. It was enormous. The whole complex screamed wealth, and you kept in mind the potential shady business they were involved with as Kirishima opened you the door to the house itself.

“You look lovely tonight.” He told you, out of the blue, as you stooped to take off your shoes in the entranceway.

 A flash of red took over your vision before you turned, clad in the slippers and snarled at him, “Thank you for telling me for the fiftieth time, Mister Kirishima.” You snapped, “Its not like your provocative messages and constant harassment of me in working hours didn’t tell me that much!”

“Oi, oi,” Kirishima frowned, “What’s with the anger? I was just interested in what you do and get up to!” He tutted, “I can’t let just anyone meet with Yaeka and the Boss, you know.”

“What? So, harassing me all day was to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt your precious criminal leader?!” You fumed before you took a step forward and thumped the man in the chest, “Why would I help a little girl find you if I was going to do something to her! Use your damn brain you…” You jumped as Kirishima’s lips cut you off. The man kissed you, his long, strong hands wrapped around the bottom of your back, cupping the arch as you leaned into him and kissed back, taking the opportunity to run your own hands over his shoulders and down his spine.

 Kirishima made a soft noise before he pulled away, fangs poking out of the bottom of his top lip as he licked away your combined spit. He looked at you, admiring the bruised cushion of your bottom lip before he grinned and dragged you by the hand into the side corridor of the house, pulling you along behind him.

“And here I thought you hated me, teacher.” Kirishima teased as he dragged you into a utility room. He shut the door with a slam of one large hand and slid you up against the wall, his jacket already off his shoulders as he teased the band of your bottoms, tugging the fabric gently as he crowded your space and sent your head spinning. He smelt of heavy cologne and the undertone of metal. He was dangerous, and you snapped your palms up in front of you, stopping him from pressing his front to yours as he leaned in for another bruising kiss.

“Ah?” He asked, perplexed, “What’s wrong? Ah, did I misread this whole thing because…”

“Shut up.” You hissed at him before you dragged him down by the tie, kissing him again, “You’re infuriating but…handsome and…”

“Say no more, I get the idea.” Kirishima preened under the praise and compliments before he leaned back in to continue where you both left off.

 A rush of blood to your head led your hands down to the bottom of his shirt. You tugged his shirt out of his bottoms, hiking the cotton up his hard stomach so you could get a feel at his skin. He was hot, almost clammy, but you ignored it as you meandered back down to the button on his trousers, undoing it. Kirishima’s eyes opened before he looked down and smirked, tugging his trousers open for you to have a feel before he had his hands up your skirt and between your legs, feeling the hot skin.

“Gosh, teacher, you’re wet down there.” Kirishima purred as he stroked his fingers over your panties, enjoying the way you gasped before he dipped a finger underneath the elastic and swiped at you, feeling the wetness cling to the tip of his finger. You gasped and moaned softly before Kirishima’s other hand came up to silence you.

“Careful…” He purred, “You don’t want anyone to hear you, do you?” He hummed, “Unless you want them to find us? I never knew a teacher could be such a pervert.”

With a shuddering breath you shoved the man down a little, “Shut it, Kirishima or I swear I’ll…”

 The abusive poison you had lined up left your mind as Kirishima got on his knees, his cock straining at his underwear where his trousers were open, but his eyes focused on you above him. He smiled before he licked his lips and ducked his head under your skirt, dragging your tights and your underwear down far enough so he could fit himself between your thighs. You gasped as his fingers gripped the meat of your thighs, dragging you against the wall before he blew a warm breath over your heated, sensitive skin. You tried not to moan as he rumbled against your thigh, trembling with anticipation before he drew back far enough that he could look you in the eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.” He whispered against your skin before he plunged his face between your legs, his tongue pressing between your folds, dragging upwards to circle your clitoris. With a breathy moan, you grasped Kirishima’s hair, and pressed your hips forwards as he teased your clit and pushed his fingers inside of you, slowly, one a time, stretching you open.

“You’re so tight.” Kirishima hummed as he rolled your skirt and got you to hold it out of the way. You bit your lip as he looked you in the eyes and dragged his tongue over you, the flat of it pressing against as much skin as he could get. He reached your clitoris again and swirled a few times before he drew the flesh into his mouth and sucked, gently at first, then harsh, in a vicious pull of his cheeks.

 ���Kirishima…” You moaned as you dragged his blue hair out of place. The man didn’t respond, instead he pushed two fingers inside of you again, pinning you to the wall as his assault made your toes curl. The slippers on your feet fell off as you moaned against your hand, bucking against Kirishima’s face before he grumbled and pulled away. Your orgasm fizzled away, and you moaned, upset as Kirishima stood up, his knees cracking before he had you against the wall again. He pinched your cheeks together before he smiled, his slick chin shining in the dim light of the bare bulb of the utility room. With a purr he kissed you, his tongue stroking your own, allowing you to have a taste of yourself. It was sour against your tongue, but not disgusting, the taste hidden by the taste of cigarette and mint in Kirishima’s mouth.

“Are you gonna…” You started before Kirishima covered your mouth. Footsteps clicked past the door, along with the gruff voices of several other members. Two stood outside the door, having a hushed conversation, and you squirmed in upset. Kirishima smirked before he spread your legs again and sucked a mark on your neck. With a brush of his hand, he had his cock in his hand and slid it inside of you, guiding it before he kissed you again, keeping you silent as his length slid, slowly inside of you, brushing the sensitive spot inside of you that made your head swim.

 Kirishima’s lip went white as he bit it, stifling his own noise as he bottomed out, pressed flushed against your hips, his cock twitching inside of you. The rush from potentially being caught, and the feeling of Kirishima’s hot cock inside of you made your stomach clench and your walls flutter in a rush of a soft orgasm, and you moaned into his mouth as you clenched your thighs and tried to ride his dick. He groaned softly into your hair at the feeling before he grabbed your hips and started a soft rhythm, careful not to make too much noise. It didn’t take the two men outside long to walk away, leaving the hallway beside you quiet.

“You’re a real pervert, aren’t you, teacher?” Kirishima cooed before he started to thrust in earnest, his hips slapping against yours as he chased his own high, desperate for it as you clenched around him again. He watched as you dumbly rubbed between your own legs, swiping at your clitoris fast enough to build another orgasm.

 “Are you going to cum?” Kirishima asked as he squeezed your backside, “Are you going to be quiet?”

You nodded, feeling the fluttering of your walls as Kirishima grinned, thrusting harder as he chased his own high, “Please Kirishima. I wanna cum…” You whispered against his ear as you moaned softly, hushing yourself with your palm again as you pinched your clit and flinched, your orgasm washing over you. Kirishima swore as you clenched tight and rushed to pull out as his cum painted the insides of your thighs, coating your tights and underwear. He panted as he admired the look, watching the pearly rivulets run over your skin and drip onto the floor. You moaned softly as he pulled your underwear back up and scowled as he laughed.

“Think you’re ready for the dinner party, teacher? Or would you like round two?” He teased before you smacked your elbow against his ribs.

“Shut up, Kirishima or so help me I’ll…” You threatened as you straightened your skirt.

“You’ll give me a kiss and promise to call me?” Kirishima batted his eyelashes.

“Something like that…” You muttered as he laughed at you.

[snackhobi]

this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)

warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it

a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕

also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work

Being a barista isn’t all bad.

Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.

Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:

The free drinks (y’know, for taste testing purposes)

The free food (you probably eat more than you’re actually allowed, but who’s telling?)

Your coworkers (like Taehyung, who is—yep—currently shoving a whole mini panettone in his mouth)

Most of the customers are pretty nice, too (you have some lovely regulars)

(If you had to be more specific, there’s one regular in particular that you really, really like—)

(Yoongi appears like clockwork every week. Just after the Tuesday lunch rush, the bell above the door will sing out its greeting as he steps inside, ordering the same drink each and every time he’s here—a large Americano, to go, plain and simple and unadorned, no room for cream or milk, no added sugar or sweetener.)

(Yoongi really is the perfect customer. He has been from the very beginning, a point of quiet in a churning sea of hot, sweaty people all begging for frappés and milkshakes, the hottest point at the very peak of summer. The queue had been growing longer and longer, out of the doors as the blenders whirred their way through a neverending cascade of sugary, iced blends; the counters were a mess and all the baristas were running around and everything was chaos and in had walked this guy, all dark hair and dark eyes and dark clothes, even in the height of summer—you were ready for death at this point, hands sticky with syrup and apron streaked with flecks from almost every drink from the summer menu, and you’d braced yourself for some terse words, impatience and passive aggressive comments on the long wait—)

(—and this intimidating man had just patiently asked for an iced Americano, calm and quiet and polite.)

(You’d fallen a little in love, then and there. Fallen in love with that simple order, quick and easy to make, and fallen a little in love with the dichotomy of the man who looked like nothing but sharp edges being the softest customer you’d had all day. There was nothing rushed about his motions, no desperate need to get his drink and get away, no anger at having waited for so long.)

(He’d been ready to pay, too, no fumbling with his wallet or money; he’d tapped his card, easy and breezy and all lemon squeezy, but he’d left a tip in change, dropped almost thoughtlessly into the jar. He’d collected his cup with the smallest upturn to his lips, a tilt of his head, and then he’d left, other customers parting before him like the Red Sea.)

(The only thing that’s changed over the months is that the iced coffees of summer have changed into hot Americanos for the cooler months, autumn and now almost-winter, warding off the chill in the air. Everything else is the same; his dark eyes and low voice and patient smile, small but ever present, pressed lightly into the surprisingly soft line of his mouth.)

(So, yeah. Yoongi is your favourite customer. Even if you’ve barely spoken, really, the two of you dancing through the same short script each time he comes in—the longest conversation you’ve had so far is the one where you’d tentatively asked if he’d like a rewards card, and after a moment of contemplation, he’d quietly agreed.)

(You like to think that you’re Yoongi’s favourite server, too. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but—)

(Taehyung had been stunned into speechlessness, because, to quote his words exactly: “I tried getting him to sign up for a card last time and I swear he just pretended he couldn’t hear me? He just straight up didn’t respond? What?”)

(—you know Yoongi likes you at least a little bit.)

Anyway. You’re getting off the point. Paradise is a decent place to work, the people are nice, and the building is pretty and airy and welcoming and warm, toasty and cosy in the upcoming cold of winter. It’s one of the things that keeps people coming back, that lovely atmosphere.

Another thing that people apparently love about Paradise is the constantly changing menu. It’s not enough to have seasonal menus, no—you need to have weekly specials, apparently, to keep people interested.  It’s like a gachapon, but instead of cute little capsule toys, it’s a random mix of concoctions that are hit or miss.

“Well, I liked the Peachy Keen Jelly Bean,” Taehyung says, around a mouthful of sweet bread, still chewing his way through the panettone.

“You’d be the only one,” you reply, swiping a cloth over the counters and crinkling your nose  at the pile of coffee grounds you gather. “Iced peach tea with blackberry and vanilla and cherry and watermelon syrup has got to be one of the worst things we’ve ever served.”

That had definitely been one of the misses. This week’s special, though, is far more palatable, if incredibly sweet—Crystal Snow, a white chocolate mocha with whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar, and a crystallised sugar stick to stir in. Sugar on sugar on sugar, basically. (Your teeth ache just thinking about it.) 

But there’s always something so fun about making the winter specials, no matter how sugary they are; the smell of the sticky syrups, the swirl of cream to top off the cup, the dusting of cocoa or cinnamon, everything mulled in the sweet warmth of winter. Even if the drink you’re making is questionable, you get so excited about it, genuinely enthusiastic when you recommend them to customers, carrying everyone into the spirit of the upcoming holidays. You’d hardly describe making coffee a billion times a day fun—it’s pretty exhausting, actually—but you’ve always had a weird affection for the winter menu and the weekly specials alongside it.

You don’t upsell the drinks because you have to. You do it because you want to.

(You’re pretty good at it too. Not a flex: just a fact. Your customer service is on point.)

The only person you’ve never tried to persuade into trying something new is Yoongi. He might not be rude or short tempered, but he clearly knows what he wants, and you hate the idea of ruining the easy flow of his visits. You’re not about to embarrass yourself by asking Mr No-Cream-Or-Sugar if he’d like a drink that's nothing but cream and sugar. Asking about the rewards card had been nerve-wracking enough, even if it had been worth it for the genuinely-unintentional-but-definitely-not-unpleasant brushing of your fingers when you’d handed the card over to him.

(Okay. Look. Yoongi is patient and pleasant and polite and cute. You never thought that you’d crush on a customer, but here you are. He just… oozes masculinity in an understated, self-assured way that has you internally swooning. He looks intimidating and serious but when he smiles his eyes go soft-soft-soft, his voice a low rumble as he gives you his gentle thank you, and everything about him is just so… attractive. Even the way he holds his coffee is hot, fingers loose around the lid as he makes his way out of the café, your eyes tracing every motion as he goes. Like. Come on. Of course you’re crushing on him.)

(Just a little bit, though. Just a little bit. It’s just an itty bitty crush. A teeny weeny crush.) 

The bell above the door chimes. Your kneejerk reaction is to snap your head over to see who it is—but you hold it together, instead letting your head turn at a normal, natural pace. It’s just an unfamiliar woman, rearranging the tassels of her long scarf with one hand and holding her phone with the other as the door swings shut, and you deflate.

(... It’s a small crush, you swear. It’s not like this is around the normal time Yoongi appears and you’d thought it was going to be him. Nope. Definitely not that.)

As the woman lingers near the counter, eyes flicking between her phone and the chalkboard menu on the wall above your head, Taehyung finishes licking the panettone crumbs off his fingers.

“It’s Tuesday,” he states solemnly.

“I know?”

“It’s just past two o’clock,” he continues.

“I know,” you repeat, glancing at him quizzically. “You told me what the time was less than five minutes ago.”

“I did.”

The bell chimes again. This time, a gaggle of giggling girls come bubbling into the café, cutting you off before you can ask what Taehyung is trying to say. You go to flick your cloth at him before thinking better of it, not wanting to rain dark roast everywhere.

“Go wash your hands,” you say, just as the scarfed woman approaches the counter, ready to order. A bright smile splits your face, voice rising into its usual peppy Customer Service tone. “Hi, welcome to Paradise! How can I help you today?”

She barely glances up from her phone as she orders, asking for a latte macchiato and croissant, a distracted ‘no thanks’ when you ask if she’s interested in this week’s special. Oh well. The girls behind her, though, all seem incredibly excited when they catch wind of it; they all eagerly listen as you describe what a Crystal Snow is, your eyes lighting up as you mime piping the cream and dusting the sugar on top, laughing when they ask if they can buy extra sugar sticks to take home, because of course they can, you’d be happy to do that for them, would they like those in to-go bags? Yes, the bags are cute, aren’t they, the snowflakes are lovely, you agree.

Taehyung’s just finished wiping the steam wand when you give him the next order. You see the way his face crumples before his brows lift and his lips purse, pleading as he looks at you with big eyes, and you just roll your own eyes affectionately.

“Yes, yes, I’ll make them even though you’re meant to be on the bar, it’s fine,” you say, and Taehyung’s whole face lights up.

You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough by now to know that it takes him until at least Wednesday to memorise how to make whatever that week’s special is. And there’s not a queue, so you don’t mind taking over, pulling espresso shots and steaming milk and pouring everything together, puffing air in Taehyung’s face when he peers at your cream swirling technique. (No matter how many times you’ve tried to teach him, he’s never been able to get it right, usually just farting a mess of cream out of the nozzle and hoping for the best. Results are… mixed.) Maybe the flourish you put into dusting the sugar on top is unnecessary, but, hey. It’s fun. You smile to yourself as you give a small flick of the wrist over each drink, powdered sugar floating down like snow, and, done.

You don’t like to toot your own horn but the drinks come out Instagram perfect, each latte glass set on a tiny napkin on a saucer, sugar stick on one side, and you take a moment to admire your work.

“They’re so pretty,” Taehyung says, and your smile grows wider.

The girls all agree, cooing over the drinks in a way that only makes your smile grow even more, wide on your face. You watch as they squirrel themselves away in a corner, talking and laughing and nibbling their food and sipping at their drinks, pleased at the way their eyes widen at the first taste.

Yeah, it’s the small things that makes your time here good. Being a barista is a thankless job most of the time, as relaxed as Paradise usually is, so you try to appreciate the small things. Like having fun when you make a drink, for example. Making nice customers happy. (Having cute regulars that you can quietly ogle.)

Actually, on the note of cute regulars—

“Your 2:15 appointment is here.”

You tear your attention away from the table of girls at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. “My what—?”

There’s someone in front of the glass display, hunched as they slowly and quietly peruse the selection of pastries and food inside—and you realise with a jolt that it’s Yoongi. You have no idea how long he’s been there, so distracted with patting yourself on the back for making a few nice drinks; oh, God, what if Yoongi had seen your pleased expression? Do you look smug? You probably look smug. Great, now he probably thinks that you’re a self-obsessed clown, honking your nose like some sort of narcissist. 

“You’re spiralling,” Taehyung points out mildly, voice low enough that Yoongi doesn't hear.

His surprisingly perceptive comment snaps you out of aforementioned spiralling, and after shaking yourself off, you glance over at him. “Why didn’t you serve him?”

He shrugs. “He didn’t seem like he wanted to be served so I just left him to it.”

To be fair to Taehyung, he’s not wrong. Yoongi is staring intently at a slice of carrot cake—even if he’s never ordered any before—and it’s not until you move to your usual spot behind the till that his attention finally rises, meeting your gaze with his deep, dark eyes.

Your inner schoolgirl feels like she needs to sit down. Your entire stomach and chest is a looping mess of frantic butterflies after making eye contact with the cute boy who you’re crushing on, but you’ve got a great poker face; you’ve worked as a barista long enough that you’re good at shoving your real feelings down, none of your internal turmoil playing across your face as you smile. Customer service mode activate.

“Hi, and welcome back to Paradise. What can I get for you today? The usual? Large Americano, to go, for Yoongi?”

You’re a little softer than you would be with other customers, a little more subdued, dialing down how upbeat you normally are to match Yoongi’s level. His lips lift almost imperceptibly, the faintest smile playing across his mouth, and it takes all your strength for your knees to not immediately buckle. 

“Hi,” he says. His voice is soft and low, faintest drawl at the end of his words, and yep, just your weekly reminder that you’re enamoured with him. Cool. “Yes, please, that would be great.”

He already has his card ready, you know he does. He always does; card to pay, loyalty card to swipe, tip to drop in the jar, quick and smooth and easy. This is normally where you’d rattle off the price—as if he doesn’t already know what it is—but you pause, thinking about how intent he’d been on the pastry display, as uncharacteristic as that is.

“Did you… want something to eat, too? I couldn’t, um, help noticing that you were eyeing up the carrot cake?”

Yoongi blinks, wispy lashes fluttering. You can see the muted surprise that flashes across his face, and you wonder if you’ve misstepped, thrown off the usual rhythm of his visit. It’s an unusual step away from your regular script, an ad-lib that he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, no, thank you,” he says. “Maybe… next time.”

He’s polite as ever, thankfully. You’re not surprised at his answer but you do have to wonder why he was looking at the cake so closely if he hadn’t planned on getting anything; you know he likes getting served by you the most, if the evidence over the months means anything at all, but you don’t think he’d stare at cake just so he would avoid Taehyung. You’re making assumptions based on the fact he just drinks black coffee and literally nothing else, but you’ve guessed he doesn’t have a sweet tooth. (The only time he’s ever ordered food had been two months prior when he’d asked for a single croissant, and nothing since. Taehyung still talks about the croissant sometimes.) 

Well, it doesn't really matter. If he doesn't want cake, you're not going to force it on him, and the rest of the transaction goes as normal. Yoongi hands over his rewards card, fingers long and knuckles knobbly and altogether lovely, pays for his Americano—made by Taehyung, cup wrapped in the sleeve that you’ve written Yoongi’s name on, black sharpie bleeding into the cardboard—and smiles at you both when Taehyung hands it to him across the smooth wood of the counter.

“Thanks.” He gives you that slight tilt of his head that he always does, and you smile helplessly back. 

He’s a gentleman, through and through, even if he looks as distant as ever; dressed in all black, his ripped jeans the only splash of lightness in his dark outfit. Maybe you’re biased, but no matter what he wears, he looks stylish, somehow. It’s something in his aura. All cool understated elegance and power. 

And here you are, in your cream jumper under the dark mulberry apron of your uniform, a flower blooming next to the name on your badge. All chirpy customer service, smiling broad and wide as you go through the same motions over and over with each new person that comes in. Sometimes you wonder what Yoongi thinks of you, as different as you are to him, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter—because he keeps coming back, doesn’t he?

“Have a nice day,” you say as he turns to go, and when he glances over his shoulder and says you too, smile soft and eyes softer, you know he really means it. 

(And if your eyes always trail after him once his back has turned, who’s telling?)

“You’re staring.” Taehyung’s telling, apparently.

You tear your eyes away from Yoongi, bell tinkling as the door swings shut behind him. “He’s my favourite customer,” you say. As if that explains why you were staring.

“You’ve barely spoken to him.”

“He’s my favourite customer,” you say again, emphatically. “He comes in, he gets the world’s simplest drink to make, is always polite, always leaves a tip, and he goes. Literally the perfect customer.”

 “Alright, true,” he says, as if he hadn’t considered that before now. “Cute, too.”

You sigh. A little wistful. “Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, he is.”

Taehyung opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else when someone spills their drink on their floor with an unholy clattering sound, even if nothing breaks; without saying anything, both you and Taehyung raise your hands, eyes narrowing at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors," you chant. Taehyung promptly loses, and the pout that forms on his lips doesn't disappear until he's finished mopping everything up.

(“Why do I always end up having to clean spillages?”

“Because you never win rock-paper-scissors. You always choose scissors, Taehyung. You literally always choose scissors.”)

The tradition of the weekly specials at Paradise is a weird one, truth be told. Each Monday whoever’s on the opening shift will enter the coffee shop and find that the board on the wall has been updated, the recipe typed up and laminated, waiting on the counter for the baristas. You all assume it’s the mysterious owner, who no one has ever seen, and no one even knows the name of, apparently.

“Someone has to know their name,” you’d said, once, back when you’d first started, only to receive a shrugs from everyone.

“I heard one of the old baristas say the owner’s name was Jackson,” Taehyung had said, and you’d just blinked at him.

“Huh?” you’d said, but Jimin had rolled his eyes and told you to ignore him, so you had.

This week’s drink is the Marshmallow World. As always, when you and Taehyung start your shift together, you read the recipe and follow it step by step to learn how to make it. Warmed milk, vanilla syrup, topped off with marshmallow fluff instead of whipped cream—not bad in theory, if you like sweet things, although it does pose one significant problem.

“It’s clogged my hole,” Taehyung says sadly.

You sputter on your own drink, desperately hacking your lungs out as you try to stop milk from going down your windpipe. “I’m-sorry-it’s-what,” you wheeze all at once, struggling for air.

Taehyung tilts his takeaway cup at you, gesturing at the lid. (All the mugs are still out back or on a rinse cycle so laziness had forced you to make do.) “My drink hole. It’s blocked,” he explains. “The fluff is getting in the way.”

So, yeah. It clogs people’s holes, apparently. But other than that, you have to admit it’s pretty nice, and if you drink it in the café (and thus out of a mug) then you’re fine. You just get into the habit of warning the customers if they order it to go and laugh about it with them and it’s all fine and dandy and everyone is happy.

It’s starting to get busier, now. The nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder and everyone’s starting to think about Christmas, which feels both close and far away, all at once. Close, because you still have presents to buy and there’s never enough time for it; and far, because the lights have yet to go up and Christmas songs aren’t dominating the radio yet and you have yet to experience the real winter rush. Students home for the holidays and families out to see Father Christmas and workers grabbing Secret Santa gifts, everyone desperate for something warm and soothing, hot and comforting in the face of the snow which has yet to fall. 

But there’s something in the air, that cool hush that lets you know it’s nearly here—the changing of the seasons, the burnt sunset colours of autumn melting into the iced blues and greys of winter. No matter if you prefer hot or cold weather, there’s something about the beauty of wintertime that’s undeniable.

And it’s a lot easier to sell something like the Marshmallow World on a day like this, the nip in the air almost solid, biting cold into the apples of your cheeks, nibbling at fingers that are so cold they feel frost-bitten. Once again, your genuine enthusiasm shines through, persuading people to give the drink a go, happy to add a shot of espresso for whoever needs it, desperate for caffeine to buoy them up through the day.

You’ve just finished laughing with a lovely old couple, wearing matching scarves and hats—awwww—waving them goodbye as they go to sit down, when you come face to face with Yoongi, blindsided by his sudden appearance. You’d been so caught up, once again, too busy giggling your way through the conversation with your other customers, able to persuade them to try one special to share alongside everything else they’ve ordered. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi,” you say. Your hand is still by your face after you’d given the couple a cute wave, and when you realise, you freeze. Flustered. Behind you, Taehyung is struggling to spoon the marshmallow fluff neatly on the vanilla steamer, making small noises of distress, but you’re too caught up in your own distress to really notice.

Once again, you have no idea how long Yoongi’s been there. You’re slipping. You’re normally aware of him as soon as he steps into the coffee shop. (You know, because you’re always aware of when a new customer steps in. Like any good barista would be.) Had he witnessed you enthusiastically waving your hands and talking about marshmallows and s'mores? Seen the way you'd grinned and laughed as you'd gotten excited over the weekly special, yet again?

Well, if he had, he doesn't seem perturbed at all. His usual smile is on his face, though you would swear it seems a little softer around the edges, almost fond. 

“Hi,” he says, and… that’s it. 

There’s no addition of his usual that would be great, and that’s when you realise you haven’t asked about his coffee. In fact, your fingers are still curled near your chin, almost like a claw. You clear your throat and let your arm fall to your side, fiddling with the tie of your apron. 

“Hi,” you repeat. Flounder for a second. Try to remember your usual line. “Large Americano?”

“Y/n.” Taehyung whines your name from the bar, loud enough that it catches your attention. “The marshmallow isn’t staying. Why do you keep recommending Marshmallow World? Why must I suffer through this torture? Every day I wake up and I make coffee—”

“Sorry, sir, one second,” you say, face scrunching in apology at Yoongi. 

“It's just Yoongi,” he replies, gentle, and your heart thuds in your chest. "You don't have to call me sir."

Your face feels warm. "Um, okay, Yoongi." You've said his name before, of course, said it dozens of times to confirm his order, but never like this—by invitation from the man himself, an acknowledgement of familiarity.

Taehyung makes another noise. Yoongi's expression turns into one of faint amusement, eyes drifting over your shoulder to your friend; when you turn around, you can see why.

The other barista’s managed to get marshmallow fluff all over the edge of the glass, on the handle of the cup, all the way up the spoon, on his fingers—everywhere except on the drink itself. It’s funny, in a sad sort of way.

“Wow.” You have no idea how he managed it, but you’re here to help. “Alright, go wash your hands, Tae. I’ve got this.”

The cup is a goner.  There’s no way you’ll be able to wipe off the sticky marshmallow. You’re acutely aware of Yoongi at the counter, able to watch your every move, but then you get distracted as you salvage Taehyung's attempt at a Marshmallow World. You just feel grateful that it’s a steamer so you can pour it into a new glass, not having to worry about layers of coffee and milk and foam; it’s a pretty easy fix. Good. (You don’t want to keep Yoongi waiting, as patient as he may be.)

It doesn’t take long to spoon the marshmallow on, whipped peaks in the sticky white, and by the time Taehyung returns you’re ready to present him with the picture perfect drink, not a single lick of fluff anywhere it shouldn’t be. You've got your hands on your hips as you survey your work proudly, and Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you.

“Witchcraft,” he says, and you laugh.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Alright, shoo, go take this over to the table before they start wondering where it is.”

When you turn back, Yoongi’s watching you. Contemplative. You tamp down the flush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks, face burning, but before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Was that the weekly special?”

You blink. Blindsided. Yoongi’s never asked about the special before, never commented on the A-frame outside, the sign on the wall that sits next to the regular menu. No surprise there—why would someone who only drinks Americanos want to drink ninety-nine percent of the weekly specials you offer? “Um, yeah,” you say. “We’ve got the Marshmallow World this week.”

“Would you recommend it?”

You can’t help it. You light up. You love when customers ask for recommendations, and the fact that it’s Yoongi—whose blood must be made of coffee at this point—who’s asking about it? Americano Yoongi, asking about something without caffeine? Black coffee Yoongi, asking about a weekly special that’s nothing but sugar and sweetness? Something inside you switches on, a Christmas tree, all flashing lights and shimmering tinsel and excitement.

“Oh, if you like sweeter drinks, absolutely! It’s great for a cold day like today,” you gush. Maybe you should reel it in, far more exuberant than you usually are with Yoongi, but. You can’t stop. “It’s warm milk and vanilla, so it’s a lovely comfort drink, and we can add a shot of espresso too if you were wanting a little pick-me-up. And then you’ve got marshmallow fluff on top for some extra self-indulgence. We were meant to, uh, toast the top, actually, but we don’t have the necessary health and safety clearance for blowtorches. I guess you could do that at home if you really wanted to. Everyone likes toasted marshmallows, right?”

Yoongi hums, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gotten ahead of yourself. Oversold it. Maybe he was asking out of curiosity. Just because he’s asking about it doesn’t mean that he wants one—

“Can I get a Marshmallow World, please? Large, to go?”

—or maybe Yoongi is an official convert to the world of sweet drinks, changing after a lifetime of drinking unadorned, unadulterated black coffee. Holy shit. Holy shit? Holy—

“And a large Americano to go, too, please.”

(Record scratch. Freeze frame.  

Yoongi of-the-black-coffee is ordering his usual drink, and another. Both large. Too much for one person to reasonably drink before one of them got cold. He’s not ordering for one person; he’s ordering for two people. Of course Yoongi wouldn’t order something as heart-stopping as the Marshmallow World—not for himself, anyway. 

Mental maths. Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight; one large Americano and one Marshmallow World is two people. Yoongi and one other person is two people, a couple of people, a couple—

Oh, God.

A couple.

You’ve been crushing on a taken man.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s sort of like that, but rather than remembering your life, you immediately recall every moment over the months where you’ve looked at him or thought about him with even the smallest iota of longing and you want to crawl under the counter and never come out. 

You feel weirdly guilty. Like… like you’re some sort of unintentional homewrecker. Even though, you know, you thought Yoongi was single and you haven’t made a single move on him and nor had you had any plans to. The guilt bubbles up inside you anyway.

All at once, you feel immensely, incredibly embarrassed. Of course he’s taken. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, as attractive and nice as he is, and you’ve just been sat here crushing on him like a big dumb idiot. 

You are the worst.)

You manage to squeeze this internal breakdown into the span of a few seconds. You’re grateful that you have your customer service face locked on, giving nothing away—from the outside the smile looks just like that, a smile, rather than the rictus of deathly mortification it actually is, burning through you like a wildfire. 

Yoongi seems none the wiser, just patiently waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of his order. Most of your brain power is still taken up with the mish-mash of humiliation and guilt that’s roiling through you. Luckily, though, the part of your brain that’s still in the moment (trying to drag you back to the real world, shame-faced as you are) forces you to move before things get weird.

“One large Americano, one large Marshmallow World, both to go.” You tap the drinks into the till on auto-pilot, dimly noting that Taehyung’s been pulled into conversation with the old couple at their table, having delivered their drinks and food to them. It’s just you behind the counter, no one else to man the coffee machines. “Let me get those started for you.”

Luckily, making the drinks means you can turn your back to Yoongi, oscillating through the five stages of grief as you fiddle with hot milk and coffee grounds and paper cups. You always take pride in your work—especially when it comes to Yoongi—and you take even more pride now, determined to make these drinks as lovely as they can be. His Americano is fairly simple, but the Marshmallow World requires a bit more finesse, and you lavish attention on the fluff, swirling it beautifully, even though you know it’ll stick to the lid anyway. 

(Okay, listen. Whoever this person Yoongi is seeing must be as nice as he is. They both deserve nice drinks.)

There’s something sweet about it, actually. Before the lids go on, you spent a second staring down at the drinks and the juxtaposition between them; black coffee and white marshmallow, bitter and sweet, night and day. It’s lovely, really, these two opposing things coming together. You wonder what Yoongi’s partner is like. Exuberant and bright, rather than his subdued warmth? A balance, yin and yang, opposite but complementary. 

(Isn’t that a nice thing to think about? Finding someone who’s different to you but matches you so well?)

You firmly press the lids into place, making sure they’re secure. The protective cardboard sleeve of Yoongi’s Americano has his name—the name you’ve memorised, written out countless times—while the Marshmallow World has a scrawled happy face, and an enjoy! on it, for this mysterious person who likes sweet drinks. You do sincerely hope they enjoy it. You really do.

“The fluff blocks the hole,” you warn, sliding the cardboard tray for both drinks carefully across the counter. “It’s probably a better idea to just take the lid off.”

Something flickers across Yoongi’s face, too fast for you to identify. But then he nods, lifting the tray up with equally careful hands. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. 

He’s always polite to everyone, Taehyung and the other baristas, but he seems to smile at you the most. He’s smiling at you now, curling at the corners of his lips, and you smile back, fighting through ten layers of embarrassment and self-inflicted shame to do so. Just because he smiles at you the most doesn’t mean anything. You can smile at people and not have it be weird; it doesn’t mean you return their ill-fated attraction.

Why, oh why, oh why.

By the time Taehyung returns to the counter, having escaped the chatty, kind clutches of the elderly couple, Yoongi is long gone. Your fellow barista finds you crouched down in front one of the cupboards with your head in your hands.

“Y/n?” He sounds incredibly concerned. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Are you sick?”

You let out a quiet noise, a mix between a whale dying and a hippo trying to swallow porridge, muffled into your palms. “I’m such a doughnut,” you say. “Just an absolute doughnut.”

Taehyung crouches beside you. “A glazed doughnut or a jam doughnut?”

Your hands drop away from your face as you think. “Plain,” you say, eventually. “Unglazed. No toppings or fillings.” A little sad and disappointing. It seems fitting. 

Taehyung puts a hand on your shoulder, warm and comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You feel embarrassed all over again, thinking about admitting your (now-squashed) crush to your friend. It was stupid in the first place, crushing on a customer, especially as you’d barely spoken to him; Yoongi might be cute, and nice, but your crush was silly and dumb and you’d been silly and dumb not to think that he was already in a relationship.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Just going through it. And by ‘it’ I mean life generally, you know?”

Taehyung makes a noise of understanding, patting your shoulder. “Big mood,” he says sombrely. He always knows what to say, empathetic to a fault.

“Uh,” a customer says, craning over the counter to see the two of you. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I get a refill on my coffee, please?”

That effectively kills the conversation, which is good. Keep yourself busy and distracted. By the time you see Yoongi next week, this crush will be dead and gone and you’ll be fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine.

He’s dyed his hair.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the café is full of people, and Yoongi has dyed his hair.

You’d spent all of last Tuesday alternating between all-consuming guilt and embarrassment, Taehyung catching you with your head in your hands in one moment and furiously cleaning the steam wand the next, channeling your tumult of emotions into anything that will distract you. 

It had worked. Mostly. You’ve had a week’s worth of time since, to get over this month’s long crush, your brain consistently reminding you that Yoongi is in a relationship, with someone who’s probably lovely and attractive and all around just wonderful (just like him). You remind yourself about this every time you find coffee grounds under your nails, or notice milk flecked on your apron, soured and off-white after a day of work; your life isn’t a meet-cute, and you’re not the cute barista who falls in love with the cute regular. You’re the tired barista who makes more cups of coffee in a day than most people probably drink in a year, and Yoongi is the cute regular who’s already in a long term relationship and comes to Paradise just because he likes the dark roast you use. That’s as far as it will go, because this is real life, and not a romance film or novel. (Even if you wished that it was.)

You’ve come to terms with it. Really, you have. But then he has to step into the coffee shop looking like that, his hair bleached so blond it almost looks white, silver hoops in his ears, and he’s still dressed in dark clothes but he’s wearing glasses, no, this isn’t a drill, Yoongi’s dyed his hair, he’s all light and dark, soft and sharp, and you want to crouch behind the counter again. Because he looks so good and of course he’s in a relationship because he’s hot, and you feel dumb for not having realised it sooner.

You can’t hide behind the counter, though. There’s a queue of people, all waiting for your attention and your time, and it’s still just you and Taehyung; none of your usual Christmas temps are back yet, still away at uni, hence the we’re hiring! posters that are up for all the customers to see (and mostly ignore). The seasons are changing and the weeks are passing and the really eager people are starting to think about Christmas shopping; you swear you don’t even need a calendar, able to trace how close you are to Christmas just based on the amount of foot traffic the coffee shop gets. You’re definitely hitting peak.

But it’s fine. You have this down to a fine art. You and Taehyung are both good on the till and scarily efficient at making drinks and plating food, dancing past each other with an ease that only comes with time spent working together and friendship alongside.

People aren’t ordering the weekly special as much, either, not today. You can’t blame them. Candy Cane Dreams is a white hot chocolate, flavoured with mint and coloured green, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles of candy cane bark and red and green drizzle too; it’s… pretty overwhelming. So it means you don’t have to take over for Taehyung from the bar, focusing on smiling at customers and soothing them after their wait, taking their orders and shuffling them along as quickly as you can. You keep a smile plastered on your face as Taehyung pulls espresso shots and grabs tea bags and heats milk, routine and familiar.

When Yoongi steps up to the counter, you’ve barely had time to mentally prepare yourself, so focused on serving everyone else in the queue; it feels like a slap to the face, a kick to the knees, but then you take one deep breath and exhale. Long, deep, slow, forcing air out of your lungs and thoughts out of your mind, and you smile.

You’ve been so careful up until this point, wanting to keep Yoongi happy, wary of misstepping—but he’s just a regular customer. You feel more confident, now, less worried about breaking this tenuous thing you thought you’d had; less worried about what you’re doing being construed as some weird, roundabout way of flirting, because. You know. He’s in a relationship, so it doesn’t matter either way. He’s definitely not interested. You can talk to him like you would anyone else. 

So you say: “You dyed your hair.”

And, just like you suspected, Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered that you’ve broken your usual script. “Oh, yeah.” He reaches up, touches his head, as if he’d forgotten. “I did.”

“It looks nice,” you continue, because it does.

He’s smiling back at you. He looks pleased; maybe a little bashful, even, as surprising as that is. “Thanks,” he says, warm and genuine. (The tiny gremlin of a crush that’s still lurking in your soul lets out a wistful sigh.) “Can I get a large Americano and a—” he squints at the board— “large Candy Cane Dream, please?”

(One plus one is two, Yoongi and his other half, the sugar to his coffee.)

“Sure!” Your voice is bright. “I’m guessing the Marshmallow World went over well?”

There’s a brief beat of silence, but you don’t notice, too focused on typing Yoongi’s order into the till.

“Yeah, it was great,” he says after that moment of quiet, and you smile. Good. You’re glad they enjoyed it. 

“I’m really happy to hear that,” you say, genuine and bright. 

“What’s actually in the, ah, Candy Cane Dreams?” Yoongi asks, and you laugh, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“It’s horrendous,” you say in a low voice, as if you’re sharing a secret. “Have you ever seen green hot chocolate before?”

You’ve never spoken to Yoongi like this, easy and light, and it’s… nice. He gives no indication of surprise at your sudden friendliness after months of barely talking. If anything he looks pleased, and at one point he even gives you a smile you’ve never seen before, wide and wonderful, flashing his teeth and gums. (The crush gremlin rattles at your ribcage like prison bars, trying desperately to escape, but you don’t give it a chance.)

“Alright, let me just swap with the other barista, he’s still not gotten the Candy Cane Dreams recipe down.”

You hear a suspicious crunch as you make your way over to Taehyung. He turns to you with a guilty smile, edged with sugar, munching on shards of candy cane while his back is to the customers.

“You’re terrible,” you say affectionately. “Go take over on the till, I have a special to make.”

Taehyung glances over, sees Yoongi making his way down to the collection point. “Huh. Alright.”

The Candy Cane Dreams recipe might be a questionable one, but it’s definitely fun to make (watching the white hot chocolate turn green makes you feel like a kid all over again, mixing shampoos together in your bathroom and calling them potions), and maybe you’re overly generous with the candy cane bark, giving Yoongi’s beau more to nibble on and enjoy. It’s not Christmas yet but you’re already in a giving mood, so sue you. 

“Here you go.” You slide the drinks towards him, the man busy reading one of the vacancy fliers, eyes flicking away from the poster when you appear. Your lips quirk up. “Looking for a job?”

You’re expecting a huff of a laugh, a small shake of the head, but he answers you seriously. “Not me, but I have a friend who is,” he says, reaching to take the tray.

You realise your hands are still curled around the cardboard; you quickly pull away so that there’s no chance your hands will brush. (You might have shoved your crush down as far as it will go, but you have to be careful with your weak, gooey heart.) 

“We could do with any help, honestly. Your friend is more than welcome to apply.” You glance over at the queue, which is small but ever present, and you know it’ll only get worse as time goes on. “And, hey, if you ever decide for a change of pace from whatever it is you do, we’d be glad to have you, too.”

This gets a laugh from him, a warm burst of sound. (The gremlin points out that this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh, really laugh, a little raspy and a little quiet and altogether lovely; you beat the gremlin back with a stick.) “I’m better at drinking coffee than I am at making it,” Yoongi says, eyes soft with lingering amusement. “I’ll leave that to the experts.”

You might have gone off script, but the nod he gives you is his usual one, that familiar tilt of the head. “See you next week?” His eyes are dark, dark and deep, and it’s so hard not to fall into them, to fall all over again.

“See you next week,” you echo, hoping the smile you plaster on your face doesn’t look as forced as it feels, as you struggle once more. Yoongi is just nice, okay? He's just being nice, but still. He needs to let a girl breathe.

(He needs to let the gremlin of her crush wither away, instead of making it threaten to come back as strong as before, fuelled by his smile and his eyes and his everything.)

(... maybe you’re not as over this crush as you thought you were.)

It seems like the we’re hiring! posters actually worked.

“I’m Jungkook,” says the new starter, all crooked smiles and warm eyes and thighs so thick they threaten to split the trousers of the café’s uniform, ties of his apron emphasising his small waist.

(“Good lord,” Taehyung says faintly.)

It’s the last week of November and even though Jungkook is still learning the ropes, he’s a massive help, and you know he’ll be a lifesaver over Christmas. He’s eager, learns quickly, and gets stuck right in, material of his shirt straining across his shoulder blades when he rips a bag of coffee beans open with his bare hands, rather than having to use scissors like you or Taehyung. 

Taehyung watches with stars in his eyes as Jungkook pours the beans into the grinder. You cover your smile by sipping at one of the espresso shots Jungkook has pulled—full-bodied and dark, rich in your mouth. 

“This is really good, Jungkook,” you say. He looks over, eyes squeezing into a smile.

“Thought it would be,” he says, and you can’t help but huff a laugh into the tiny espresso cup. He’s cocky and competitive, telling you that he’d never made coffee before but he was going to do a better job than any of the other baristas here. He’s too endearing to come across as arrogant, though, and you have to admit that the coffee is good. (Not as good as yours or Taehyung’s, of course, but still. Pretty good.)

Taehyung coos at him and reaches out to shamelessly squeeze his bicep. “Jungkookie is a natural barista.”

Jungkook’s cocky smile turns equal parts pleased and flustered. You continue to sip at the espresso as Taehyung moons over him, then the bell above the door rings, and the mooning temporarily is put on hold. (Temporarily, because Taehyung continues to moon over him for the rest of the shift, insisting on doing the bulk of his training, which is fine by you.)

It’s the 1st of December tomorrow, so not only do you have to clean after the café is locked up, you have to put out all the Christmas decorations, too. But it’s more fun that it is work, the three of you dragging the tree out of the storage room and decorating it with a menagerie of tinsel and baubles; Jungkook lifts Taehyung so he can get the star on the tree, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and hoisting him up effortlessly, leaving your friend with a pleased smile on his face.

Jungkook is new, only on his second shift, but he’s slotted in so easily. He laughs at Taehyung when he wiggles his butt along to the Christmas songs you've put on to play, and he helps steady the stepladder as you string garlands of snowflakes on the ceiling, even if he doesn’t really need to. 

He absently readjusts the reindeer headband Taehyung had unearthed from the storage room and proudly placed on his head. “Yoongi-hyung talks a lot about this place,” Jungkook comments, offhand.

If you’d heard this a few weeks ago, you probably would have fallen off the stepladder, inner gremlin grabbing your heart with both hands and squeezing tight-tight-tight. As it is you only pause for a moment, one of the larger snowflakes cradled in your palm, before you go back to your job of hanging them up. 

“So you’re the friend he mentioned that needed a job,” you say. 

“That’s me.” Jungkook grins, boyish and bright, and you laugh. “He really, really likes this café. Wouldn’t shut up about it, even before he told me that you were hiring.”

You can’t imagine Yoongi gushing about a café to his friends, but then again, he clearly is passionate about his coffee. Jungkook will know him better than you, having a real friendship rather than this patron-and-customer back-and-forth that you’ve had, so who are you to imagine what’s normal for Yoongi and what isn’t? You didn’t even know he was in a relationship, after all. You don’t know anything about the guy, really. 

“Well, we appreciate his custom,” you say. “I know Yoongi is the one who actually comes in, but you can thank his other half, too, and I hope they enjoy their drinks as well.”

You’re too busy hanging the garland to see the way Jungkook’s face twists. 

“Huh?”

“You know. Yoongi always comes in for his Americano and the weekly special for his partner,” you say.

You’re focused on stepping down the ladder without falling to see the expression on Jungkook’s face, nose scrunched and lips pursed, like there’s something he’s smelled that he really doesn’t like.

“Did he say that to you? That it was for someone else?”

“Hm?” You pause in grabbing another string of snowflakes, glancing up. “Oh, no, I just worked it out, you know? Yoongi is a religious coffee drinker, why else would he order something that’s basically hot sugar water? I think it’s cute,” you add, belatedly. “That he always comes in to grab something for them, too.” 

(You wish you had someone to do that for you.)

There’s a beat of silence. Jungkook’s holding the stepladder, ready to move it, staring at you in a way that’s weirdly intense. “I see,” he says, like that isn’t weird or mysterious at all.

Then he drags the stepladder’s rubber feet across the floor with such a loud noise that Taehyung startles, bauble falling out of his hand and shattering. Jungkook, of course, profusely apologises and insists on cleaning it up—but not before making sure Taehyung is okay, of course, grabbing his hands and looking over them, as if the bauble had broken in his palms and not the floor. 

Taehyung looks immensely pleased. You just smile quietly to yourself, roll your eyes lightly, and go back to hanging snowflakes as Jungkook speaks to Taehyung, soft and low.

You think your favourite thing about training a new starter is witnessing their reaction to the weekly special.

“So,” Jungkook says, slowly. “You put in the whole gingerbread man—gumdrops and icing and all—and just blend it?

“Yep.” Taehyung’s reply is cheery. “Straight in and whizz it all up.”

This week, it’s You Can’t Catch Me, I’m the Gingerbread Frappé which is a) probably the longest name known to mankind and b) probably the most questionable name known to mankind and c) who orders a frappé in December?

These thoughts are clearly playing across Jungkook’s face as Taehyung coaxes him to drop the gingerbread man into the blender, and you’re too busy enjoying the consternation on Jungkook’s face to notice someone stepping up to the counter—until they clear their throat, that is, and you all turn. 

“Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Oh! Hi,” Taehyung says.

“Hyung! Look!” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook, wait—” you say.

“Whirr,” the lidless blender says.

It’s chaos. Frappé ends up everywhere, splattered over the counter and the floor, splashed across the wine-red aprons of both of your fellow baristas, as close to the blender as they were—saving you from any of the sugary fallout, unwitting human shields.

There’s a beat of silence, where you all stare at each other—

And then Yoongi laughs.

You’ve never seen Yoongi laugh this loudly, eyes squeezed so hard you wonder if he can even see, almost cackling as he laughs at Jungkook’s expression, joyful and loud and free. It’s another dimension to him, another new part you witness as Jungkook wipes gingerbread and ice off his face and Taehyung stares at the mess spattered across his hands and arms.

It makes you think of a paper crane. Yoongi is this unfinished thing in your mind, each new thing you learn about him another fold that you add, a flat sheet of paper turned into something entirely and wholly new. You wish that it weren’t so alluring, watching it come together, finding out more and more about this man you’ve technically known for months, but only recently started to get to know.

(You wish that it wasn’t so easy to keep falling for him.)

Once the counter is cleaned, both Jungkook and Taehyung retreat to replace their aprons, leaving you—once again—alone with Yoongi. He’d stopped laughing to tease Jungkook, to gently rib him, but you can see the smile that’s etched on his face, the echoes of mirth written across all his features.

“We usually train the baristas to keep the lid on, I swear,” you say, and Yoongi’s face splits into another smile.

“I was going to say that it’s an unorthodox blending technique,” and you can’t help but smile back at this, even if you’ve been trying not to laugh. Professionalism barely wins out, your lips trembling as you try to hold your giggling back, but Yoongi spots it anyway, looking pleased, like he’s accomplished something by getting you to (nearly) laugh.

You’re not laughing when you have to make one of the special frappés, though. You stare at the gingerbread man as you hold him above the blender, at his cheery iced face and his cute little buttons (not the gumdrop buttons), and brace yourself to drop him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and let him go, before quickly slamming the lid on top and turning the blender on so you don’t have to look at the betrayal you’ve just committed. 

When you turn, Yoongi has an expression of sympathy on his face; for you or the gingerbread man, you can’t tell, but his face smooths the second he notices you looking at him, blinking innocently, as if there’s nothing unusual going on. It’s disarming, seeing that expression on his face, when you’d gotten used to seeing him act more reserved, but it’s cute.

(It is cute, whether you’re crushing on him or not. It’s just a statement of fact, okay? It’s nothing more than that. Even if that tiny gremlin of a crush still lives in your chest, scuffing its feet against your heart, reminding you of its presence when you least need it.)

(It digs its heels in when you put the frappé and Americano side by side, nestled snug in their cardboard tray. You slide it towards Yoongi and you’re a little too slow, fingers brushing his when he reaches for them; you’re surprised by how quickly he moves, how eager he seems to be reaching for his order, fingertips dragging across the back of your knuckles, and the gremlin kicks your heart, pulse rising just at that glancing touch. Even if you know it’s fruitless, useless, you can’t help but like Yoongi anyway.)

(“See you next week,” he says, and you can’t do anything but smile helplessly back.)

You normally love snow. You love waking up to the sight of it, pure and pristine white, adding another dimension to your familiar world—you love snowball fights and snowmen and snow angels, even if it all leaves you feeling cold, chilled right to the bone, nose running and hands freezing. The best part about winter is getting warm again, the season of throw blankets and hot water bottles, knitwear and scarves, tea and hot cocoa, all cosy and lovely and wonderful.

It’s a bit different when you have to work all day, though. You watch as the snow on the streets outside is threatened by the spray of salt and a thousand spinning car wheels and busy feet, ice turned to slush water; for now the snow is winning, though, and judging from the weather forecast, you think that’ll be the case for the rest of the day. You hope it lasts through to tomorrow, too; by the time you get home you’ll be too tired and it’ll be too dark to play in the snow, and it leaves you feeling disappointed and sad. 

(Winter is lovely but it can be a hollow season, too, something about the leafless trees and fogged windows making everything feel like an empty dream.)

At least Paradise is warm, even if you’re cooped up inside, safe from the still-falling snow that keeps trying to turn the world into an untouched, frozen wonderland. It’s quiet in the coffee shop today. Only the bravest of people have ventured out into the not-a-blizzard-but-basically-a-blizzard, plastered against radiators and putting drinks to their faces, letting hot steam heat their cold cheeks.

It’s why you’re both surprised and unsurprised when Yoongi appears, bell chiming above his head as the door swings shut and he stamps his feet on the front mat, knocking snow off his boots. He somehow looks disgruntled and soft all at the same time, a royal blue beanie on his head forcing his fringe down to sit messily over his eyes, bundled up warm even if his face is scrunched up and his cheeks are red from the cold.

���I hate cold weather,” he tells you once he reaches the counter, gloves peeled off his fingers so he can reach for his wallet, his nose tinged pink as he sniffs.

You proffer him a box of tissues. “You look like you need it,” you say gently, and he smiles at you, a warm hearth in the cold winter.

“Thank you.” His voice is equally as gentle as yours, and something aches in your chest.

It’s just you behind the counter right now, so you take Yoongi’s order and make the drinks too—one large Americano and one large Latteggnog (a basic latte made with eggnog instead of milk, rich and thick and creamy), this week’s special: everyone’s favourite Christmas drink, but with a twist of coffee. 

The quiet gives you time to think. Jungkook and Taehyung are out back, the older barista coming up with the most ridiculous excuses to take them away from the counter; you don’t mind that they’re taking the time ‘counting the coffee beans’, as deserted as the café is. 

The café is practically empty and Yoongi hates the cold but here he is, venturing into the ice and snow to get this person he cares about the drink they want, because they’re that special to him. (You hope they realise how lucky they are.)

You’re normally okay being single. Don’t really think about it. But there’s something about today, this moment, that has you reflecting; Taehyung has this budding thing with Jungkook, Yoongi has this steady thing with his love, and here you are, by yourself, alone. It’s hard to summon up your usual energy, going through the motions as you make the drinks. You tilt your head forward, dusting nutmeg on the eggnog latte, watching the way the sprinkle of spice settles delicately and softly in the foam. No flourish, no flick of the wrist, not today.

(There’s two cups in front of you now, but later, when you’re home, there’s just going to be one. Yours. Yours, and no one else’s.)

(When you get home, you’re going to do what any self-respecting single person would do: order too much takeaway, rewatch The Good Place, get emotional over Eleanor and Chidi’s relationship—they’re so different but they’re so perfect for each other, why can’t you have that?—mope for a bit, rewatch The Princess Bride, get emotional over Westley and Buttercup—where’s your cute farmboy who saves you from an evil prince?—mope a bit more, before finally climbing into bed and hugging a pillow to your chest in the space of having someone else there. You know. Perfectly normal single person things.)

When you turn to Yoongi, drinks ready and raring to go, you’ve forced a Customer Service Smile onto your face. They say that just the act of smiling makes you happier, right? Maybe if you smile hard enough, you’ll cheer up, chasing away this sudden sadness that lingers in the back of your throat, scratching at your lungs like black ice.

“Here you go!” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet hush of the café, but you roll with it anyway. “Enjoy your drinks!”

Yoongi takes them from you, hands carefully cupped around the tray, but his eyes don’t leave your face. He doesn’t return your smile, as convincing as it should be (even Taehyung struggles to tell between your real smile and your work smile, sometimes); he stands for a moment, looking at you.

You think he’s about to say something when he clearly thinks better of it. He tilts his head, like he always does, but you’d swear his expression is tinged with concern. “Thanks,” he says. Pauses. “The roads are really icy. Get home safe, okay Y/n?”

Blink, blink. Your eyelashes flutter. You suddenly realise that he’s never said your name out loud, never had a need to, even if he must have known it all along from the badge on your chest. It sounds so good in his mouth, soft and safe.

 “Oh,” you say, slow with surprise. “Thank you. I will. You, too.”

Yoongi nods again, as if to himself, before he turns to go.

He stops one more time before he goes. He stands at the open door, glances over his shoulder before he steps out, dark eyes meeting yours, as if checking that you’re still there, still tethered to the ground. Seems satisfied when he finds that you are. He gives you one last smile, all soft around the edges—that’s something you know intimately about Yoongi, that he’s soft through and through, even if he can look sharp, as cold as the ice outside—and then he goes, back into the falling snow to deliver a steaming sip of warmth into the hands of the person he loves.

(Your heart aches.)

It’s the week before Christmas. The whole world has that feeling it always does at this time of year—excited and bright, if a little frantic, the hanging lights in the city a backdrop to people’s last minute shopping, their breaths pluming out into the air as they rush around in the cold. The whole world feels full of life, that final push towards the end of the year; the hearth fire of Christmas before that weird in between before the new year, that held breath of potential, before the clock ticks over and the world is thrown into the next year.

Paradise has been busy. It’s like summer, only instead of sundresses and shorts, everyone is in knitwear and scarves, shivering as they wait to be served, desperate for a drink to warm them up, something to eat to fill their bellies. You spend more time in the coffee shop than you do at home, pulling overtime shifts to help your fellow baristas out—everyone thinks Christmas is a time of relaxation and coming together, but it doesn’t feel like that when you work in a customer facing job, oh no. It’s just non-stop busyness and being rushed off your feet.

(You’d barely had a chance to speak to Yoongi, café full when he’d stepped in, your pace frenetic as you’d danced around behind the counter with Taehyung and Jungkook; you’d slid his drinks towards him, his Americano and the special, and maybe your smile had looked more harrowed than you thought because he’d caught your hand and squeezed it.

“I hope you get a chance to rest over Christmas,” he’d said, concerned and sincere, as you’d stood in stunned silence, not expecting that almost-intimate touch, gentle against your skin.

“I will,” you’d said eventually. Yoongi had seemed to suddenly realise he was still touching you, fingers clasped around yours, and he’d withdrawn quickly, giving you a smile that felt like a whispered secret, before leaving you to deal with the ever-growing queue.)

Suffice to say, it’s been a long week, and you’re tired, and your feet hurt after all the running around you’ve been doing, and you just want to go home. You just need to finish the close, need to finish setting everything up for the open tomorrow, need to finish cleaning everything, and then you can get some sleep.

At least, that’s what you thought. Instead, you’re standing across from Jungkook and staring at him incredulously. You can feel a headache coming on.

“Wait.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What do you mean, we need to deliver some coffee?”

You don’t know if Jungkook is being deliberately obtuse, but he just stares at you as if you’re the one talking nonsense right now, and not him. “We have a customer order to deliver,” he says.

“Yes, I gathered that,” you say. “I just mean, why did no one tell me sooner?”

Paradise doesn’t do deliveries, as such. You cater for events, and you technically do deliveries then, but it’s less ‘one coffee to go’ and more ‘enough sandwiches and pastries and bagels and coffee to feed an entire office’. It’s not that you can’t bring someone their order directly, it’s more that you just… don’t.

“Taehyung took the order,” Jungkook says, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose again. You can’t ask Tae about it, the other man having had to leave just as you’d been about to flip the sign to closed (‘Jimin says Tannie peed in his shoes again! I have to go clean it up! I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll cover a close for each of you next time!’), so it’s just you, and Jungkook, and the slip of paper on the counter between you. You’ve worked with Taehyung long enough to trust his judgement and his decisions, as inexplicable as they might seem sometimes, but you do think it’s weird that he’s taken this delivery on board.

“It’s not too far from here,” Jungkook adds, peering at the address on the paper. “It won’t take long.”

“We have to finish closing, Jungkook,” you say. 

He shrugs casually, carelessly. “I’ll do it, I don’t mind. You can just do the delivery and then go home straight after, it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” you mumble. “Why can’t you deliver it?”

“You’re the senior barista, you’re a better representative of the brand,” he says, and you have no idea where he pulled that from. (You blame Jimin. You know they’ve had shifts together, and Jimin is too smooth-talking for his own good.)

As much as you want to argue, you can’t help but cave, because the prospect of getting home early is one that you’re not about to sniff at. (You’d worry that Jungkook would get home late, what with the amount of prep he still needs to do for tomorrow, but you half suspect that Taehyung will reappear at some point, anyway.) You’re too tired to want to argue. “I just want to say this is a one off, and normally we cater for events, we’re not really a delivery service, okay?”

“Duly noted.”

It’s a simple enough order, anyway—it’s just two drinks. The first is a large quad shot latte with caramel and toffee syrup, extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top (something you’d definitely order, you think, indulgent and milky and with enough caffeine to kick you up the ass). Jungkook dutifully cleans as you start the second drink. The special this week is far, far less sweet than normal; a Rudolph the Red-eyed Reindeer: a simple red eye with a pinch of holiday spice, coffee with an extra espresso shot and topped with cinnamon and nutmeg. You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the warm smell and letting it flow through you before you double check the details on the note.

It takes you a second as you squint at the address, wondering why it looks familiar—and then you pause. This is Yoongi’s office, you think to yourself, and it feels a little like there’s an apricot pit sitting heavy in your stomach, heavy and hard. Paradise had catered a breakfast for them last week, and it hadn’t been on your shift and so you hadn’t gone, but—you’d heard enough about it from Jimin, the type who gets to know everyone and everything the second he walks in the door. You’d heard about the team that Yoongi manages, found out that Yoongi works in music, in artist and repertoire, and when you’d had the chance to Google exactly what that meant, you’d been bowled over. He has such a complex, high skilled job, and here you are, struggling to get a job with your degree, hence the barista thing. (Thanks, economy.)

You hastily shuffle past the address, trying to ward off your sudden sense of inadequacy, focusing on the name instead. What sort of name is Suga? you think to yourself, and then shrug. Probably one of the workers had enjoyed the breakfast the other week and was still hanging around before going on holiday for Christmas, or something.

“Alright, I’m off.” You’re ready to advance into the cold outside: coat on, scarf looped around your neck and hat secure on your head, cardboard tray of drinks clutched in your hands. “If you need help closing, just call me and I’ll come back, okay?”

“I won’t, but, thanks,” Jungkook says, equal parts self-assured and reassuring. “Don’t fall on your ass!”

It is icy outside, the entire world a winter wonderland, beautiful but cold and daylight long gone; snow drifts slowly from the sky above, dusting your shoulders and the top of your hat, flakes caught so softly by the weave of your clothes. It’s the kind of day that’s perfect spent indoors, curled up with the people you love, warmed through and through—and here you are, picking your way across the pavement slush to deliver a coffee to someone. (You’re not even getting paid for this.)

At least it’s not too far, really, just a few blocks away. The building is small, which is a plus, because it means you won’t have multitudes of rooms and offices to trawl past to get to your destination. The receptionist is more than helpful, too, when you say that you have a delivery for Suga; she gives you exactly directions and then she smiles at you, pleasant and pretty and lovely, and that gremlin that’s still clinging desperately onto your feelings for Yoongi whispers: what if this is Yoongi’s girlfriend? She’s beautiful.

Shut up, you think, before smiling back and thanking her, and heading on your way.

This close to Christmas you’d think that the building would be almost empty, but you’d be wrong. It’s not a buzzing hive of activity but there are still people walking around, speaking behind closed doors or laughing through open ones, decorations and tinsel hanging from the ceiling. Up ahead you see a someone come out of a room, shutting the door behind them before they walk in your direction. It’s a man who looks like he’s just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine and as you pass in the corridor he pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. Not suspicious, just surprised.

“Uh, I have a coffee for Suga,” you say without prompting, as if he was about to accuse you of some sort of nefarious scheme and your coffee delivery is the only thing saving you from that.

“Oh,” mister-model-handsome says, suddenly smiling widely, like this is all perfectly normal and not weird at all. He’s got some of the poutiest lips you’ve ever seen. “You’re nearly there, he’s just down the corridor and on the right. Have fun!”

“Uh, you too?” you reply. (Is he Yoongi’s boyfriend? He’s tall and broad shouldered and incredibly attractive, with the type of smile that makes people’s hearts race, and Yoongi definitely deserves someone like that.)

Your destination seems to be the office the (probably) model just came out of. You look around the corridor, which seems to be deserted now, the hubbub of people elsewhere in the building. You knock quietly, not wanting to disturb the hush that’s filled the air around you.

A beat. Then: “Come in,” someone says, voice muffled through the door.

It swings open easily at your touch. You stand on the threshold, mouth open around the announcement of your delivery when the words die on your lips.

Yoongi’s there, sitting behind a desk and his head bowed as he scribbles something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up. “Shut the door,” he says. Dumbstruck, you do just that, and it’s not until the door’s quietly clicked shut that he starts to raise his head. “Hyung, I already said that I don’t need to eat—”

And then he spots you standing there.

He stops mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes widening. He looks as shocked as you feel, utterly taken aback and agog, and even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. He’s in a black button up, sleeves rolled to the elbow and top button undone, revealing the pale skin of his collarbones. It’s another juxtaposition, the Yoongi that you’re familiar with (an aura of effortless authority and attractiveness) in a place you don’t know at all, completely professional, his desk neat and the entire space put together. There’s a tastefully decorated tree in the corner but it doesn’t throw off the balance of the room at all. 

“Uh.” You cough lightly. “I have… a delivery… for Suga?”

Yoongi stares at you.

“Is this… not the right room? I can go,” you mumble, gesturing over your shoulder with a thumb.

This seems to snap Yoongi out of whatever thoughts he was having as he shakes his head. “No, this is… Suga’s office,” he says. “I just didn’t order any coffee.”

You open your mouth. Shut your mouth. You don’t have an Americano on the tray, but he’d probably like the red eye, coffee with extra coffee, no sugar or cream. Just a little pinch of spice. 

“Maybe it was a surprise, or something? Couples get each other gifts all the time.”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up. “I’m not really the type that gets surprised with gifts.”

Something about this strikes a discordant note in you. He’s always delivering gifts of coffee—he deserves those expressions of love returned to him. You can’t help but say as such.

“You’re always giving gifts, though,” you say. “Those weekly specials. I wouldn’t be surprised if your other half is returning the favour.”

Blink, blink. He looks perplexed. “I don’t have an other half?”

Your mouth opens again. “Uh,” you say eloquently. “What?”

“I… don’t have an other half? I’m… single?”

“You’re…” Your face scrunches up, wrinkled in confusion. What? He’s… what? “But you always buy two drinks?”

Silence. Then: “I… the Americano is for me,” he says. “I usually just pour the special away. I only started ordering them because you got so excited talking about them and making them. I never planned on drinking them.”

Your mouth falls open, soft around a quiet breath, a soft oh. “You—wait. You ordered them because I got excited about them?”

Yoongi’s eyes are so dark, so gentle; melted chocolate, warm. “You started to talk to me more, after the first time I did,” he says, and you know you had. Because you thought it was safer to talk to him, though you were secure in the knowledge he wasn’t single—but he is single. “So I kept doing it, because I wanted to talk more to you. I thought you knew? And that’s why you started having real conversations with me.”

You’re frozen in place, eyes as big as dinner plates. Min Yoongi, your futile crush, who looks as sharp as a knife but is as sweet as spun candyfloss, has been coming back week after week—for you. He’s not in a relationship, and he’s been flirting with you.

Or at least he thought he had been. You, however, hadn’t even realised.

“I was going to ask you on a date after Christmas,” he continues, calm and steady, as if your brain isn’t melting. He’s still sitting behind his desk, and there’s something about his tousled hair and bared lower arms—watch on one wrist and a few bracelets on the other—that has your heart pounding, that casual air somehow not at odds at the weight of the surroundings. Because the world is a backdrop to Yoongi, and he makes it work.

“What the fuck,” you say. You realise you’ve never sworn in front of him when something flickers in his eyes; not a bad flicker, no. Definitely not. “I thought you were taken.”

“I’m very single,” he says lightly, belying the weight behind the words. And then his eyes drop to your hands. “You said you have a coffee for me?”

Which leads to this: Yoongi, in his chair, you, leaning against his desk. He’s taken the red eye (of course) while you sip at the latte, relishing the punch of espresso, the flavour of the syrups.

You’re both staring at each other as you drink, air in the room growing thicker by the moment, when Yoongi breaks the silence. “This is probably the only weekly special I’d actually want to drink.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Black coffee with more espresso? That’s you all over,” you say. “The other specials aren’t so bad, though. I think you just need to give sweet drinks a chance.”

You’re speaking without thinking, but the second those words leave your mouth, the air turns electric. Yoongi’s still staring at you, unwavering and intent, and everything inside you is melting, leaving you flushed and hot. The smile hasn’t left his face, which had been warm but it’s changed, evolved, edged with something sharper.

“If you say so,” he says. His eyes are on your lips. “Let me try?”

His fingers are so gentle on your face, hands cupping your jaw as he tilts your head down. All your thoughts leave you. There’s nothing in your mind but Yoongi, his warm hands and dark eyes, the heat of his body so close to yours, his mouth; you can’t help but look down, tracing the shape of his lips with your gaze, a small soft pout that’s so at odds with the weight of his intensity. 

When he kisses you, it’s featherlight. Barely the softest of pressures, the potential of something more—and then he pulls you in deeper, and there it is, that heat flickering in your stomach jumping into a full fire. The kiss turns hot and wet as he licks the flavour of caramel and toffee syrup out of your mouth, and he tastes like coffee, dark and bitter; you make a noise against his lips and he swallows it down, pulls you closer.

You’re straddling his knees, a little awkward and cramped in his office chair, but you don’t care. You’ve been wanting to kiss Yoongi for so long, even when you felt like you shouldn’t, thought about his dark eyes and pink mouth, the curve of his lips, the paleness of his hands; a steadying presence around your waist, holding you in place.

When you pull apart, Yoongi’s lips are flushed, kiss swollen. It looks good on him. Really good on him.

“I’ve thought about that more than I’d like to admit,” he says, and you can’t help but feel warmed by it, the realisation that you’ve wanted to kiss him but he’s wanted to kiss you, too.

“This really isn’t comfortable,” you say, wriggling a little—your ass is starting to go numb, sat on Yoongi’s knees—and Yoongi sucks in a quick breath at the way you’re all but squirming in his lap, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Oh, you think. 

When you move away, he lets you go without protest, hands sliding off your waist. It’s not until you fall to your knees that Yoongi realises what you’re doing, his eyes widening.

“Y/n,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”

“Please, Yoongi, I’ve wanted to do this for months,” you say. Maybe it was a little crass to start with, wanting to get on your knees for a man you barely knew just because he was hot and polite to you, but now you know he wants you back. You’re not about to let this opportunity pass you by, staring up at him between his knees, hands braced on his thighs. “But if you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

He looks torn, just for a second, eyes darting away from your face and to the door. It’s shut, but it’s not locked, and though the building is quiet there’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk in at any second.

Without thinking, you lick your lips. Yoongi’s eyes flicker back at the motion, watching how your tongue moves, and you can see how he crumbles.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, and you dig your nails into his trousers, electricity shooting through you.

“You’ll have to keep your voice down,” you warn, and reach for his zipper.

It’s a struggle for him, you can tell. He’s already biting his lip by the time you’ve tugged his trousers and boxers down, hardening under your grasp, and you knew his dick would be as pretty as the rest of him. You don’t have the luxury of worshipping him the way you want to, acutely aware of the fact you’re in his office, but it doesn’t mean you’re not going to make Yoongi feel good. It’s dirty and messy, the way you suck his cock into your mouth lewd and wet, lavishing attention on the most sensitive parts; his hips jump as you circle the head with your tongue and jerk the rest of his length with a hand. 

Everything’s sloppy with spit and precum and Yoongi’s biting off curses, hand tightening in your hair as you take in as much of him as you can, relaxing your throat and swallowing him down, down, down. When you look up at him through your lashes he looks wrecked, the paleness of his skin flushed pink, and you can’t wait to see that all over. Can’t wait to see Yoongi entirely bare in front of you, when you have the luxury of time and pleasure.

But there’s something about this, too, that has your heart racing, cunt throbbing. You’re running your spit slick lips down the side of his shaft, tonguing the throb of the vein there, when you hear footsteps nearby, muffled through the door. It doesn’t sound like they’re coming in this direction and Yoongi seems almost entirely lost to the feeling of your mouth on him, but you flick your tongue across the spot where the head of his cock meets the shaft and he bows forward, swallowing down the noise that threatened to spill from his lips. He’s so fucking hot like this, falling apart under your hands and mouth, and you know he’ll give as good as he gets.

“Gonna cum,” he rasps. You smile up at him before taking his cock back into your mouth, jerking him off hard and fast as you lick and suck—and when he cums it’s with a noisy exhale of breath, a muffled groan, and even as you’re swallowing down his cum and mouthing at him until he winces with oversensitivity, you’re imagining what he sounds like when he doesn’t have to be quiet.

He’s not shy, either. You’ve barely tucked him back in when he’s reaching for you, kissing you. There’s no taste of coffee any more and you shiver, molten and boneless at the way his tongue presses into your mouth.

“Still want to take me on a date?” 

You’re being cheeky, voice light as you joke, but Yoongi’s responding look is equal parts serious and affectionate. He sweeps a thumb over your cheekbone and you relax into his hands, feeling like a cat that got the cream. Here you are, on your knees in his office, the glittering lights of his Christmas tree thrown across your hair and skin, warmed by the touch of a man you’ve wanted for months but never thought you would get.

“Of course,” he murmurs, gentle-gentle-gentle, as if you hadn’t just sucked his soul through his dick—and you love that about him, love his inherent soft core, his big heart. You might not know him as well as you’d like—not yet—but you already know that much about him. “I owe you a present, too.”

Your face scrunches. “What, because I gave you a blowjob?”

At this he laughs, mouth split wide and gums on show as his whole body shakes with the intensity of it. “No, because you brought me a coffee,” he says. He still has your cheek cupped in his hand, palm warm against your skin. “But if you want to say it’s because of the blowjob as well, then sure.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” You smile at him, gentle expression at odds with the meaning behind the words and your position—still on your knees.

You don’t know if they ache when you stand, because Yoongi is kissing you again, distracting you. And it’s easy, this back and forth you have, comfortable as you finish the (now lukewarm) coffees and get ready to go, because Yoongi insists on walking you home. Because he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and he even holds the door open for you.

You’re not sure if you can reach for his hand, if that would be too forward in his place of work, if he doesn’t want to when this thing between you is so tentative and new. But you’re barely halfway down the corridor when he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm; when you look over, he’s smiling at you, and then tilts his chin up.

“Oh!” You stare at the huge bundle of mistletoe above you, tied with red ribbon and messily taped to the ceiling. It brings a smile to your face. “Oh, how cute.”

The hand on your arm shifts down. Yoongi weaves his fingers with yours.

“You know about the tradition, right?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and it’s not just from the lights from the ceiling above, turning his dark eyes into warm chocolate, deep brown. “Kissing under the mistletoe?”

You can’t help but blink, surprised at his sweetness, his forwardness. There’s nothing to say that someone couldn’t walk by right now, to see the two of you hand in hand under the mistletoe, but Yoongi doesn’t care at all. He’s staring at you like you’re the only other person in the world, and you feel like a fountain of champagne is bubbling inside you, heady and sparkling and light.

“I think I’ve heard of it,” you say, and he’s still smiling, a small thing, just for you. “Do you think you can show me?”

And he does, with his hand in yours, your lips against his, and up above, the mistletoe sparkles.

(Your phone rings. Caller ID says it’s Taehyung, but when you pick up, he’s not the one who speaks.

“So.” Jungkook sounds knowing, his voice bordering on smug. “How did the delivery go?”

In the background you can hear someone crowding close, put it on speaker, Kookie, I want to hear too, and you can’t help but smile at Taehyung’s eagerness.

“Good,” you say. Yoongi’s palm is warm against yours and you swing your joint hands together, looking at him, entranced by the way the snowflakes dust his eyelashes. The sky above is dark and the wind around you is cold, but the man beside is so bright and warm. You feel wrapped up in it. “Yoongi says he’s going to kill you, by the way.”

“He won’t,” Jungkook says cheerfully, loud enough that Yoongi can hear. He looks fond.

“Well, tell Taehyung I’m going to kick his ass for lying about Tannie peeing on Jimin’s shoes,” you say.

“You won’t,” Taehyung says, equally as cheerful, and you can’t help but smile.

“No, I won’t,” you say. 

You think about the seasons. You think about the man walking beside you; the man who says he hates cold weather, but has kept his gloves off so he can feel your hand against his. The man who came out in the snow to order a drink, just to make you smile. The man who looks like winter but feels like spring, something cold bursting into potential, new life.

In the depth of winter, under the snow and twinkling Christmas lights above, Yoongi squeezes your hand.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​ @vensulove

[moririki]

⤷ BIRTHDAY SPECIAL

SAWAMURA EIJUN X READER -> 1.8K
a story of how you ended up dating the rambunctious southpaw

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> eijun being cute, kuramochi being unable to function around women
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> i only just developed a crush on his guy despite watching the whole first season already honestly what took me so long lmao, sorry that this one's kinda short i didn't have much time to write for it cos i was preparing for my final exams (i am done and dusted now tho and i feel like a champ cos i now have a super long summer of doing nothing that i get to look forward to)

-> ok so we all know that this absolute fool can't pay attention in class to save his life

-> he's so cocky lmaoo

-> but then he just goes ahead and falls asleep in class

-> you're no perfect student, but even you weren't on his level

-> you did, however, have the honour of sharing a desk with him

-> and that meant trying to avoid letting his drool stains smudge the notes that you were making

-> you were surprised too, but if it were literally any other guy you would have found him disgusting and immediately try to switch desk partners

-> but in spite of his stupidity and cockiness, you found sawamura charming

-> he often bragged to you about his position on the baseball team loud enough for the rest of the class to hear and you only half-listened as you tried to take some notes or anything to help you pass this class

-> but you still expressed an interest in what he had to say, albeit a small one, in what he did and that was good enough for him

-> besides, he wasn't all that bad

-> the two of you were sat fairly close to the back, so you wouldn't get caught when he brought in snacks for the two of you to share

-> and when he brought in your favourite snack one day, the rest was history

-> the two of you were now desk buddies

-> you enjoyed finding out more about the loud southpaw when neither of you wanted to pay attention to the lesson

-> you were pleasantly surprised when you found out that eijun (he wanted you to call him eijun now) liked reading shoujo manga

-> it took a bit of willpower to not squeal with him over the protagonists and love interests

-> you had many in-depth discussions about love triangles and theories for what would happen in the next volume

-> these discussions sometimes turned into heated debates that would have both of you being put in detention together

-> you still debated passionately even then

-> all in all, he was a very interesting person to talk to

-> he also liked to listen to you!

-> your hobbies, your interests, what you ate last night, whatever (he wouldn't admit that he just liked listening to your voice, especially when you got more enthusiastic and started waving your arms for emphasis)

-> soon enough, you found yourself actually looking forward to lessons

-> even if they were about calculus

-> and so this little routine that the two of you had became one that you integrated into your life without even realising

-> the sharing of snacks, notes, and hell, even new manga volumes, became almost second nature

-> you'd grown attached to your desk buddy

-> one day, he was absent from lessons, and you realised just how boring it was without him

-> it appeared that he had missed you too when he was back in school, as he whined about how dull lying in bed was when he could have been discussing the latest events in your favourite shared manga (the protagonist and love interest had just run home together in the rain, and she had been invited to stay at his house to dry off and warm up)

-> you felt your heart soar at his words, particularly the ones where he said that he missed you

-> and that's when you knew

-> you probably had for a while now, at least subconsciously

-> but there was no denying that you had feelings for him

-> you weren't really sure on how to go about dealing with them

-> you had no idea how you were supposed to tell him considering that you'd only gotten to know him for a few months

-> but you hoped that the occasional moments that you had shared with him went both ways

-> you didn't really change how you acted around him

-> maybe you blushed a little easier with this newfound revelation of yours, but other than that it was still the same idle chatter between you two

-> but then, a few weeks later, you begin picking up on a slight red tinge of his own when the two of you talked

-> any lingering or brushing accidental touches had the two of you grow scarlet with a quick mumbled apology on either end

-> it took a small pep talk and a few late nights of planning to figure out how to confess

-> "eijun, i've been thinking....."

-> "our time spent together has made me realise..."

-> "... you're really, really, cute!"

-> "please go out with me!"

-> you frowned at yourself in the mirror as you rehearsed, still scrambling to find the right words

-> man, feelings were hard

-> all of the melodramatic shoujo declarations of feelings were really looking inspiring right now

-> but you didn't have conveniently timed storms or flowers that magically appeared when you smiled

-> you'll just have to do this the old fashioned way

-> you texted eijun, asking if he would be free after school tomorrow to go to a cafe because you had to tell him something

-> he texted back rather quickly, agreeing and asking if anything was wrong

-> you felt yourself smile at his concern, but assured him that it wasn't anything bad

-> lessons went back to being an obstacle between you and the end of the day, regardless of eijun's presence

-> you were both dreading and couldn't wait until the final bell rang

-> when it finally came around, eijun grinned at you

-> "ready to go?" you only nodded in response as the two of you headed to the place that you had suggested

-> some part of the way there, eijun had insisted that he carry your bag for you

-> your objections were rather futile

-> it was only a five minute walk, he had pointed out

-> he really was sweet

-> the two of you got there, ordering your respective drinks

-> normally, you went here to focus on some schoolwork, but not today

-> you kept trying to gather the confidence to tell him, only to hesitate

-> it really was frustrating

-> much to your chagrin, you felt like you never had the right opportunity to spring how you felt on him

-> in fact, it was when he was walking you back to your dorm room (once again, he's a gentleman) that you actually decided that there was nothing to lose and that you should go for it

-> now or never, right?

-> "um, eijun?" you stopped walking, tugging on his sleeve to get him to do the same

-> he did easily, looking at you in confusion

-> "y/n/n? you ok?" you hesitated, looking down at your feet slightly

-> nope, no backing out

-> "i, uh, i like you," you blurted out

-> "i like you too, y/n/n," the boy beamed at you

-> he then took your hand in his, which was new but you weren't complaining

-> you could feel his rough but warm palm as the cool evening air brushed against you, and it was comforting. but you still had to confess

-> "no, eijun. i like you. and i was hoping that maybe we could go on a date." your voice trailed off by the end of your sentence, and eijun cocked his head to the side in confusion

-> "didn't we just go on a date?"

-> "what?"

-> the boy blushed, still holding on to your hand

-> you felt yourself begin to smile, even laughing as eijun began to stammer out how he thought that the two of you had been dating for a few weeks already

-> but there was no harm done, since you felt the same way

-> it was definitely something to laugh about with him later down the line

-> to sum your dynamic up, it would be loud idiot x loud non-idiot

-> though he didn't exactly try to keep it secret, the baseball team still hadn't met you

-> despite sawamura's boasting and his insistence that you were real and did in fact go to seido, kuramochi was still refusing to believe that you existed

-> so to see your uncharacteristically grumpy boyfriend stood outside your dorm one night was a surprise

-> he took your hand, almost stomping back to his dorm with you in tow

-> he threw open the door, yelling into it

-> "see, kuramochi! she is real!"

-> you stifled your giggle at his words, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze instead

-> the green-haired guy, the alleged kuramochi, stared at you in what could only be described as amazement for a good five seconds

-> "is he paying you?" the boy finally managed to splutter out

-> you couldn't prevent your snicker, and eijun was about to yell at the second-year again but stopped when he saw the way you were shaking slightly as you giggled

-> he smiled softly to himself instead, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him

-> "i'm his girlfriend." you smiled sweetly at eijun's roommate, who still looked shocked

-> and after kuramochi, it was only a natural course when it came to getting to know the rest of the team

-> they approached you in many different ways, ranging from a simple "hello" from haruichi to a scary-looking third year with a beard beckoning two more to come and get a look at you while you walked past them in a hallway one day

-> but they all liked you a lot more than sawamura

-> and you liked them, despite the fact that isashiki had scared you shitless when you first saw him

-> so it was natural for you to go to his games!

-> you made sure to cheer for him loudly, and when sawamura was pitching he would always make sure to find your face, even blowing you a kiss much to the annoyance of his teammates

-> the boy just wanted to show everyone that he had an amazing girlfriend

-> off the pitch, the two of you are so affectionate with each other

-> eijun's like a puppy

-> he just gets so happy to see you and touch you, and kuramochi has walked in to see the two of you cuddling in eijun's dorm way more times than he would ever want to

-> cuddling with eijun is a delight

-> he's warm and likes to hold you as you both talk or do something

-> it wasn't rare for both of you to be lying while facing the same way, both reading the same manga as eijun had his chin rested on your shoulder

-> it's couple's bonding, ok

-> advantages of having a hopeless romantic as a boyfriend? he is more than glad to be as cliched with you as possible

-> sheltering you from the rain? check

-> study dates where the two of you were sprawled together on a bed and accidentally ended up making out rather than making notes? check

-> eijun is a surprisingly attentive boyfriend

-> on days where he's particularly busy with baseball after school and doesn't get to see you, he would either try to give you a little note during school with a messily doodled heart on it, or he'd send you a string of texts as the two of you talked about anything

-> all in all, 10/10 relationship he can be a little stupid at times but your brain cells make up for that and you are the annoyingly cute couple that everyone sees around school and loves to hate

-> you make him so happy and he makes you so happy very precious

take a look at the menu - ,, ⚾️ ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[nose-bandaid]

layers

DK (Seokmin) x (gender neutral) Reader | college AU fluff | 4.2k words

synopsis: seokmin first captured your attention with his smile, and you were more than enthralled. then you captured HIS attention by utterly destroying his favourite scarf and then fleeing the scene (oops). but surely you can fix this before things get awkward, right?

a/n: it ended up more platonic than it did romantic but oh well,,, this is a very specific plot i apologize LOL

taglist: @elcie-chxn​ @woozisnoots​ (hi alex this is the seokmin fic you asked me to tag you in like MONTHS ago sksfhdjkjdsf) [send and ask or dm if you ever wanna be tagged in my works!]

=====

You've always called him the scarf boy. On alternating days, it was the sunshine(y) boy.

The first day you met him was actually about a week into the semester, when you glanced over to your left and saw him sitting on the other side of the lecture hall. Nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, you would’ve just looked away and carried on with your life. It’s not unusual for your eyes to wander around as you zoned in and out of the professor’s speech. That's what you get for always staying up late the night before.

But on that day, you found your eyes fixated on the boy for the next few minutes, and you watched as he whispered something to his friend. It must’ve been something funny because soon they were both giggling like fools and he smiled from ear to ear. 

And it was that smile that captivated you because you don't think you've ever seen such a bright smile before. 

His face was familiar. Surely you've seen him many, many times before today, you thought. And yet you couldn't place a name on the classmate.

You brought your attention back to the lecture for a brief second and then looked at your friend, Seungkwan, who sat to your left. You gently nudged him with your elbow and he spared a glance your way before going back to his notes. You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“Hm?” He still didn’t look up from his notebook, but you knew you had his attention now.

“Do you know who that guy is?” You gestured with your head in the smiley boy’s direction, and Seungkwan finally looked up to follow your gaze.

“Oh, you mean the literal ball of sunshine that doesn't know how to shut up?” He replied in one breath.

“Huh?”

"I said that as a good thing, by the way. Or, for the most part. His name is Lee Seokmin, everyone on campus calls him a happy virus 'cause he keeps on smiling." He paused to scribble something down. 

It was probably something important and you should've written it as well, but you could tell he had more to say. You patiently waited. 

"I've heard that he's in the theatre club, but I'm not too sure. He's Soonyoung's friend, but not really mine."

"So he's a theatre kid, huh." You echoed quietly and Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking? Also, I'm not lending my notes, it's your problem for not paying attention."

"I was just wondering." You answered a little too quickly but tried to divert the attention elsewhere by busying yourself with re-organizing your own notes. "And if you lend me notes, I'll bring snacks for you tomorrow." You added quietly when the professor glanced your way after shushing Seokmin and his friend.

"Deal." You heard him whisper back after a minute and his notebook slid into your vision.

=====

A few days later, you went to class early so that you could finish up a small assignment to prepare for the lesson. Once again, nothing out of the ordinary.

You sat in your usual spot — not too far in the back, but also not too close to the front. Just enough for you to see the board and sneakily hold conversations without really being noticed. 

There weren’t any assigned seats, but by now, it was a convention that everyone sat in the same spot every day. The spot beside yours was always saved for Seungkwan, and the spot beside his was saved for that one kid who only showed up once a month.

You were finishing up the last few pages when a loud “HELLO” echoed in the hall and you whipped your head towards the doorway.

It was that boy — Seokmin — dressed in a soft yellow hoodie, hair slightly ruffled as if he hadn’t bothered to fix it after waking up. Around his neck was the red knitted scarf he always wore the moment the weather grew cold. (Though you swore you've seen him wear it in the middle of the sweltering summer). He smiled widely, waving to the half-empty hall and then to the professor who simply chuckled at his entrance. That smile stayed on his face the entire time he made his way to his seat. 

From then on, you began to understand why people called him a happy virus.

The next day, you found yourself going to class early again, this time, because you honestly didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, arriving at a good time always made you comfortable. The moment the clock struck 8:46, the same boy appeared.

"HELLO!~"

This time, it was sung out in a (very beautiful) falsetto, and you wondered how it was even possible for him to be this exuberant so early in the morning. Waking up was always a struggle on your part.

Just as quickly as the show started, the boy shut himself up after receiving a few tired "hellos" from his classmates and took a seat.

The day went by accordingly.

Since you were little, you've always been told that something needs to be repeated at least three times for it to be considered a pattern. So you decided to go to class early just one more time. You told yourself it's so that you could see you were missing out on things. In case coming to class just in time was a bad habit. A lousy excuse, really.

You knew that you just wanted to see Seokmin again.

Sure enough — it was a Thursday that day — he came in, this time in a navy blue cardigan, but still with the same red scarf. The "hello" today was a little more subdued and based on the package he had in his hands, you guessed he had stayed up all night practicing his lines. When his greeting was met with unusual silence you looked around to see that everyone was far more focused on the upcoming test than the boy at the door. So you mustered up the courage to be the one greeting him that day and he immediately perked up, sending you an appreciative smile. His eyes remained brighter as he walked over to his seat.

You decided to come to class early every day after that.

=====

As the seasons changed, so did your classes, and you were more than happy to realize that you and Seokmin shared not just one, but two classes this semester.

Bouncing on your toes a little bit, you silently willed for the people in front of you to hurry the heck up. The narrow stairwell did no good for the congestion of students trying to get by. 

You glanced at your phone again to see that class was starting in just 3 minutes and grimaced at your predicament. You knew your professor loved starting lectures right on the clock, so you were already cutting it pretty close when you agreed to help someone with their spilled drinks before you got here. But now... did these students really have to carry their gigantic project up the stairs?

You had hoped that maybe they would step aside and let you scurry your way up to the second floor — that was literally all you needed for them. However, they seemed to be far too engrossed with the fact that one of the components was coming apart in the stuffy stairwell and you let out a sigh, backing out the door.

If they won't take the elevator then you supposed you will instead.

Thankfully, the usually crowded elevator was fairly empty, and you managed to score one all to yourself. That was a win for you if only everything else had gone as smoothly as that. Your day had only started and circumstances have suggested that it wasn't going to be the best ones out there.

Perhaps, it was also partly your fault for blasting music through your headphones in the morning. That caused you to get a little lost in your thoughts on the way here, it also caused you to bump into a few unsuspecting people. Or perhaps, it was because you decided that it was a good idea to check your phone after receiving a text to hurry to class when the elevator door was closing.

But you like to think that it was maybe also his fault for stuffing his face with a bagel at 8 am in the morning, rendering him unable to clearly shout out at you to keep the elevator door open.

You looked up at the strangled noise and saw Seokmin barrelling towards you, his one free hand wildly waving at you to do something about the situation. You, just as frantic as the boy was, rushed to smash the "open" button to no avail as the door continued to close with every step he took.

He made it, much to your relief, tumbling into the lift and almost spilling his coffee onto you (another drink disaster would've ruined your day completely). You didn't have much time to congratulate him for his feat, however, because you both watched in horror as his iconic knitted red scarf — caught in between the doors of the elevator — began to tear and unravel itself. 

Seokmin frantically lifted the scarf over his head and tried to pull it out of the elevator's grip while you reached down and grabbed it in an attempt to help. But all efforts were futile when the last stitch came apart, and he was left with only a fraction of what used to be his favourite red scarf. Your stomach twisted itself when you looked up and saw the distress in his eyes, his teeth biting down on his lip as if he was contemplating the best way to curse you out.

He was an actor though, and you could tell he was putting up a facade to hide how upset he actually was. His eyes wavered as he stared at the scarf, now reduced to a mess of yarn and his lips tugged into a weary smile.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to close the door on you it was an accident." You blurted out.

Seokmin didn't answer, but the elevator door dinged open as your phone buzzed with its second alarm of the day. Class was starting.

Your hand slipped into your pocket to turn off the alarm and you looked back at Seokmin, eyes begging for forgiveness. "Look, let's meet up again sometime later so I can make it up to you, okay? I promise that I'll fix this."

And with that, you sprinted away from the scene, leaving the poor boy alone with his destroyed scarf.

=====

"Let me get this straight — the elevator door closed too soon and Seokmin's scarf got caught and tore apart and now you're worried that he hates you 'cause you think the scarf is really important to him?"

You nodded.

Seungkwan sighed and rubbed his forehead, trying to return to his notes. "This reads like a fanfic someone wrote at 5 am."

"It what." You blinked and he dismissed the question.

"Nothing, nothing. Did you get his number? Any way to contact him?"

You gave him a sheepish look. "I forgot to ask, I kinda ran away."

"You ran away?"

"It was an accident okay! I was nervous. But we have a lecture with him tomorrow morning, right? I could just talk to him then."

Seungkwan raised an eyebrow. "And you'll be able to muster up the courage by tomorrow? It took you 10 minutes to even tell me what happened, what do you plan to do?"

You bit your lip and stared at the forgotten work on your laptop. "Good question, I have no idea how to make up for it. Scrap talking to him tomorrow."

You both settled into silence as Seungkwan continued on with his notes and you leaned back in your chair. All sorts of ideas ran through your mind, but not of them seemed like the right one.

Then it hit you.

"That's it!" You gasp and sat straight up again, accidentally startling Seungkwan who whined about his smudged diagram. "I'll buy him another scarf, the exact same one."

"That's a good idea." He hummed. "But how will you know which one to buy?"

"I was hoping you'd have his socials? We could do some classic investigating." You suggested.

Seungkwan's eyes lit up at that and he reached over to grab his phone. "If Soonyoung's friends with him, then they're probably following each other so... Ah! There he is. A childish username, as expected."

He gave his phone to you and you scrolled through Seokmin's profile, many were pictures of food or his friends, but you stopped at one photo that caught your eye. It was of him at a park, trying to act casual for a photo (as anyone would), but wrapped around his neck was the famous red scarf.

"Perfect." You muttered to yourself. Now all you had to do was buy that scarf and hope that it comes quickly.

Or else things would become terribly awkward.

=====

Buying that scarf turned out to be much more difficult than you thought it would be.

No matter how deep you searched on the internet or how many times you looked at the photo of his precious scarf, there was no trace of the exact same copy.

"Don't tell me it was handmade." You groaned and got up from your seat to flop onto your bed instead. You stared at the ceiling for a while, long enough for your laptop to fall asleep. 

"Maybe it's a high-end brand?" You speculated quietly to yourself and rolled onto your side to stare at the wall instead.

"No... This guy eats ramen every other day in the caf, there's no way he can afford that."

You rolled onto your back once more and pouted at absolutely no one.

Why did you have to get into this situation with someone you hardly knew?

=====

The next day you went to class at the normal time to avoid having to see Seokmin when he inevitably greets the class. However, when you took your seat and discreetly glanced at his spot, it was empty. Minus Soonyoung's bag that sat there instead.

You chewed on your lip for a while, wondering if his unusual absence had anything to do with yesterday.

"Good morning!"

Your shoulders relaxed at the familiar voice and you almost let yourself send him a smile when you remembered that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You immediately stiffened and stared at your table. Seokmin didn't look your way for the entirety of the lecture, which you were almost grateful for, but it also left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

On the way out, he did end up glancing at you and you immediately turned to Seungkwan to strike up a meaningless conversation.

"Make it seem like we're busy with something, he's looking my way."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "I talked to Soonyoung yesterday and he brought up what happened 'cause apparently he thought it was really funny. He said Seokmin wasn't mad but didn't really know what he's supposed to be doing either."

You nodded, pretending like you were listening to him and he continued on.

"Seokmin's a kind soul, you know. I doubt he's ever been angry at anyone before."

"That just makes me feel even worse though," You whined and watched Seokmin leave the room with another classmate by his side. "And I told him that we'd meet up again but I'm not ready at all. What's he gonna think about that?"

"Then you could go up to him and say that you're still sticking to your promise, but you still need time to think about what to do. Maybe he'll tell you what he wants then." Your friend suggested, poking at your work to tell you to start cleaning up.

"I think I'm going to avoid him until I'm fully prepared. So I don't mess this up." You decided, completely ignoring Seungkwan's words and the boy sighed.

"What did I do to have such dense friends?"

=====

The week before exams was spent cramming some last-minute studying with your friends in the community library. 

It's been a while since you last spoke to Seokmin. 

Which translates to "you haven't spoken to Seokmin since the incident."

You ignored those worries and buried yourself in work instead. Using yet another excuse to get out of the very problem you should probably be prioritizing.

Besides, focusing on Minghao and Jun, who were bickering over who left the empty juice carton in the mini-fridge seemed far more interesting. You giggled when Minghao practically brought out photo evidence to defend his point and Jun spluttered out a shocked response after being called out. As their conversation grew louder and louder, you quickly scanned the library, searching for the librarian to make sure you weren't going to be chewed out for being noisy.

You stopped when you spotted Seokmin sitting next to Chan, who ran the dance club you've always admired. His nose was buried in a book. It was only for a brief moment — perhaps a second or two — but you stared at him from afar, taking in his sharp features and gentle smile.

When he felt your gaze on him and locked eyes with you, you immediately looked away, trying to not let him know that you saw him.

"I gotta go." You muttered and packed up your stuff, leaving behind a bewildered Minghao and even more bewildered Jun (who was still trying to recover from the previous attack).

All those days preparing yourself crumbled right in front of you. This wasn't supposed to be happening, this wasn't moving according to the plan you promised you'd stick to.

He wasn't supposed to beat you to it.

"Y/n!"

You carried on, pretending to have not heard him and prayed that he would just give up. He was Lee Seokmin though, so of course, he didn't stop.

"Y/N!" He shouted a little louder this time and you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, just like on that fateful day at the elevator. You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the confrontation.

"Hey, Seokmin."

To your surprise, he gave you a big smile. "Hey! 'Was worried I wouldn't be able to catch you just now. You were walking so quickly, where are you headed?"

"Oh..." Away from you. You thought to yourself, but said something else, trying to play it cool. "Nowhere in particular, just on a walk. Needed some fresh air after spending so much time in the library. It’s always stuffy when everyone’s cramming for exams." You rambled on.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure." You lied with a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, with you leading the way, cheeks heating up with every second that passed.

"You've been avoiding me haven't you?" He finally spoke up.

The tips of your ears burned. "I wasn't trying to."

"If it's about what happened in the elevator, you don't have to worry about it." He prompted lightly and you stopped walking.

"Well, I am worrying about it." You admitted. "Because not only was that your first impression of me, but I know that scarf meant a lot to you and it was such a stupid way for it to get destroyed."

You took a deep breath and continued before he could think of an answer. "I'm trying to buy you another scarf, but I've been having some trouble finding it anywhere..." You admitted.

"Ah," Seokmin chuckled. "My grandmother made that scarf so I doubt you'd be able to find it online."

"It was from your grandmother?" You rubbed your face, thinking about all the hours spent examining the photo and struggling to find the perfect match. "I'm so sorry, that's even worse than it just being your favourite."

He shrugged. "Nah, it's fine, I got over it after that day."

You couldn't hide the look of surprise when he said that.

"To be honest, she's been trying to get me to ditch that scarf because I wore it too much. It's a good excuse to get a new one now!" He finished happily and you suddenly felt less tense.

"Your grandmother makes nice scarves, though. I never knew that there was a little design on it until, well, until it ripped. But it was beautiful! Please give her my compliments."

Seokmin let out a shy laugh. "Ah, you're talking about the little bunnies and sunflowers stitched onto it, right? I've always worn the scarf inside out because I don't know what people will think when they see it."

"What?!" You blurted out, incredulous. "They're really cute! If anyone were to hate on the cute bunnies then they're going to have a word with me." You joked, pretending to get into a fighting stance. "I would definitely wear that scarf proudly, but what makes you comfortable, of course."

"Interesting. Hearing that does make me a little for confident." He hummed. The conversation stilled for a brief second before he spoke up again. "What are your plans for the break?"

You blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Uhm, nothing much, probably just heading back to spend time with family."

"Cool! My plans are the same. How about you meet me..." He walked over to a nearby bench and planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Exactly here on the day, we get back. Does that sound okay?"

"Why?" You asked, but he was already backing away. You stepped forward, insisting on an answer but he refused to give you one and you could only nod your head in agreement.

"I'll see you then... I guess..." You called out weakly, speaking to practically no one because the boy was already on his way elsewhere.

And just like that, your conversation with Lee Seokmin ended.

====

 Winter break soon arrived and left as quickly as it came.

You arrived exactly 5 minutes before the meeting time and Seokmin arrived exactly 5 minutes after the meeting time.

"Y/n!"

You waved when you heard the familiar voice and the two of you shared a warm smile despite the cold weather.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," He continued. "How have you been!"

"I've been alright, how about you?"

He replied with his own "same old, same old" and you sent him a curious look when the small talk died down. "So why did you ask to meet up today?"

"Yes! About that." His hand drifted towards his neck and he didn't even have to speak for you to piece two and two together.

Wrapped around his neck was a new scarf, the same style as the old one, but this time, it was a soft shade of pink. Embroidered along the front was a small line of bunnies and flowers, perfect for the spring that was soon to come.

You brightened at the sight and let out a small gasp. "You got a new one! Nice!"

"Yep! And," Seokmin placed something warm in your hands and you realized he's been carrying it with him this entire time. "This is for you."

You stared at the scarf in your hands. It was a lovely shade of blue. "Wh— why do I get a scarf too?"

He laughed and fidgeted with his sleeves. "You spoke so fondly of my old one, I thought you'd appreciate having one for yourself so I asked my grandmother to make an extra one."

"That makes me feel even worse!" You cried out, guilty for not only ruining his old scarf but also inadvertently making him do more work to gift you something you didn't think you deserved.

"No, please don't feel bad!" He immediately replied, eyes wide to get his message across. "She was happy to make another and honestly, I just wanted to clear things up so that we don't start off on the wrong foot, you know?"

"Thank you." You pouted, still feeling a little bad, but you wrapped the scarf around your neck nevertheless. Seokmin smiled as he watched you and you grabbed the end of the scarf to admire the handiwork.

"They have the same pattern. We're matching with each other now." You quietly noted and suddenly the atmosphere between you two grew warmer.

"I guess we are! This makes us scarf buddies now, I guess." Seokmin smiled sheepishly. "We are bound by an unfortunate incident, but I hope to turn it into something positive. We can be friends, right?"

"I should be the one asking you that, idiot." You replied with a grin. The grip you had on the scarf got a little bit tighter. "Of course we can be friends, I would love to be your friend."

The smile on his face reminded you of when you first saw him.

Suddenly, your phone went off in your pocket, signalling that it was a good time to start heading to class. So much for an easy transition back into the school year.

"I should probably get going now," You started at the same time Seokmin spoke up.

"I promised I would meet up with—"

You both paused mid-sentence before bursting out in laughter at the coincidence.

"We have a lecture together tomorrow, right?" He asked excitedly and you nodded. "We can continue our conversation later then."

You laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, scarf buddy."

=====

The next day went by accordingly, starting with a familiar “HELLO!~” from the boy who loved to eat bagels at 8 in the morning and wear scarves in any kind of weather.

The only difference is that this time, he took the seat to your right instead of one at the opposite end of the hall. He greeted you with a smile and you happily started up a lively conversation before class started. Decorating both your outfits were your matching scarves, flowers and rabbits on the outside for the world to see.

This way, everyone could know that you guys were scarf buddies.

[kyotakumrau]

2020.12.21 The World You Live In at Zepp Tokyo, 2nd event report

Fujieda again started with greetings, introduced himself and Takabayashi and then asked for applause for the band members.

And we got quite a surprise!

Kaoru and Toshiya came on stage!

Thus making Tokyo the only place where band members changed for each slot/session. As much as I'd love to see Kyo again I was happy as my friend only went to Tokyo and she's Toshiya's fan😊

F: please introduce yourself.

Kaoru: you already did lol. I'm Kaoru.

T: I'm Toshiya.

F: the last video you just watched was different from other sessions. The trailer for the concert film screenings that will start from February. It's something only you know right now. As you can imagine from the title it will be something similar to this, with the band members coming for the talk after.

K talked a bit about the situation as well.

T: it's still difficult to hold concerts, but this is something we can do. So I hope you will look forward to it.

Next F started the 'merch items introduction corner', he passed the items to the members.

K: I was watching the 1st slot and we talked about them in Osaka, too. (he talked more about the items and what members said)

F: yes, everything can fit in the pouch so it's a very useful item. You can buy all merch items and put then in the pouch and take home like that. Let's look at Toshiya's big pick key chains (he pronunced that very carefully😂)

They talked about members signs and company logos when suddenly K requested to have to lights in the venue set brighter so he could see everyone.

After that F announced they wil start with questions from the fans, passed the part of papers to others, but K gave his to F saying it's better if he chooses.

T: ok, I have a good one! 'It was Die's birthday yesterday, did you send him a birthday message? And are there any memorable presents you've received in the past?'

T: I got a bicycle. I was really happy at first, but then it was stolen from the parking area.

F: when was it?

T (I didn't catch it but from the context it must have been quite early on in their career)

F: during the tour?

T: yeah, we were always giving each other something for our birthdays, every year, but as years passed it got more difficult to choose something good and we then just stopped.

F: how about you, K?

K: I got a Mickey Mouse, about this size (he showed us with his hand, about 1m tall).

F: 'how do you deal with feeling tired?'

K: I go for a massage.

F: only during the tour?

K: anytime.

F: when the most? When writing songs?

K (laughing): but we're always writing songs

T: for me it's sauna.

F: do you often go when just staying at home?

T: for example after the gym

Ta: 'what did you eat most often during the stay at home period?'

K: ...what did I eat, what about you, Tooru?

Ta: sausages.

The whole venue kinda rotfled 🤣🤣🤣

F: that's cute😆

Ta: it's something I can usually only eat at home.

K: ...something I was really into...(still thinking)....(thinking)

F: for me it was Jiro-ken ramen.

T: at home?! So you weren't really staying at home?

F: I gained some weight after the overseas tour. I started to diet then, and one day a week, a cheat day, I could eat whatever I wanted. My cheat choice was Jiro, either at the restaurants or to take away.

K: ...what was it for me...

F: maybe nabe you talked about before? (in Osaka)

K wasn't impressed 😆

T: canned mackerel for me.

F: for when you drink etc? No, just like that?

They all laughed here a bit.

Suddenly K jumped in with a new topic.

K: in Osaka you talked about the theme behind Kyo's outfit, you said it was pink but he pointed his green hair as the main point.

F: that was difficult.

K: tbh I also thought the main idea was pink (he also talked about Kyo's use of Kansai dialect)

T: 'what were you able to do after becoming an adult?'

F: there's a lot of food people start eating when they grow up.

T: food topic again? 😆

F: for example for me it was raisins.

T: as I get older I can drink more. When we just debuted I couldn't drink at all.

F: drinking wine?

T: おっさんだから・'cause I'm an old guy.

K started talking about the food he couldn't handle when he was small but the next question kinda made me forget it 😅

' 'wet cat food is actually quite good, have you ever tried?'

F: I have a cat and sometimes when I give my cat wet food some will get on my fingers. I'd just lick it. You know some of it, the mackerel or tuna, it looks so good.

T: please send me a video when you eat cat food next time.

😂

(but to be fair most of canned cat food in Japan is 100% fish🤷‍♀️)

K: 'when you can tour again what local specialities do you want to eat?'

F: motsunabe in Fukuoka

T: miso type?

F: of course (if not Shinya would kill him)

K: what did you eat in Sendai?

F: bento

K: in Nagoya?

F: nothing special

T: we had normal bento, but it was miso katsu (Nagoya's style cutlet)

F: but if it's not in a restaurant it's not the same. Anything you want to eat, T?

T: Beki soba from Niigata.

F: have you tried it before?

T: when we went there on a tour, I really like soba.

They talked but more about food, tare katsu, okonomiyaki from Hiro and Jiro again.

T: is Jiro really that good?

F: 😍

K: I've tried it before, but it's (just) okay.

F: it's all about how the noodles taste (type of flour etc)

(more food talk, choosing between salt and tare options)

K: 'what's your favorite onigiri (rice ball)?'

F: how about you, K?

K: I don't eat onigiri.

T: Me also, but if I have to choose it's sujiko/salted salmon roe.

K (about not eating onigiri much): right, you only eat soba.

T then told us the story how much he loved salmon roe even as a child. When he was quite small he went shopping to the local supermarket with his grandmother. When he saw salmon roe in the shop he just started eating it directly from the shelf/container. Of course when his grandmother and supermarket staff found out it got very noisy, but because he was so young it was forgiven.

(back to onigiri topic)

Ta: salmon for me.

F: oh that is nice, I love the most tamago-kake-gohan rice ball (TKG is a very simple, traditional Japanese breakfast dish - just rice with a raw egg eaten with soy sauce, sometimes other toppings), the Newdays chain is selling them

K: the chain operates only in this area, no?

F explained that there are Newdays in other places too, fe Sendai. He also really got into explaining all pros incl the tasty gooey filling inside of the rice ball.

K (imitating F) oh that's nice 😂

F: 'it got so cold recently, what's your favourite season?'

T: spring or fall, I don't hate winter but I definitely don't like summer.

K: fall. (he said as this year wasn't too cold he could go out a bit during breaks)

F: so 2~3 weeks ago was your fav time.

K: here in Tokyo at least.

F: 'as we're staying home much more now do you have a recommended tv series or a channel?' (not just a movie)

K: Cobra kai.

F: ah, you tweeted about it.

K: it will be on Netflix next month, the 3rd season.

K talked about The Karate Kid (Japanese title 'Best Kid').

F: I don't know it.

Ta: me too.

K (shocked): you're serious???

T: I know, of course.

F: 'Best Kid'? 'Best Fit?'

T: just stop it🙃

F: how about your recommendation, T?

T: The BOYS on Prime.

K: I haven't seen it, but it seems interesting.

T: it is! I also like BOSCH. I'm just watching like after work and so on.

After that K talked about how cinema with the capacity reduced by half was nice because you could put your bag on the seat next to you etc, but recently came back to the full house (Demon Slayer did that...)

F: 'how do you feel being in front of people first time in a while?'

T: I'm sorry it has to be done this way

F: don't say that😆

(missed K's reply)

T: it's tiring to be in front of people.

F: but we do it in an interesting way.

T: yeah.

T: 'what's your favourite game? Even including older ones like famicon?'

K: games?

T: Spelunker on Amicon😆

T/K in agreement: where you die so quickly

K: PS5 is so popular, I didn't win.

F: it seems Kyo won once but the information he submitted had a mistake.

K: I applied for Sony's lottery and Big Camera's.

F: you don't want PS5, T?

T: recently I don't play.

K: what about the... what was it Tsushima?

They all reacted with 'ah'

F: what kind of game is it?

K: don't ask me😅 but it looks interesting.

T: it seems to be very popular abroad.

F: 'what's your favourite way to eat ozoni?'

(A new year soup with rice cakes)

Ta: the soy sauce based soup, with grilled mochi.

F: but what ingredients do you add?

K: isn't that way too detailed??

Ta (tries): spring onion etc

K listed grilled mochi, spinach, carrot etc. Then he told us about his family tradition to properly make rice cakes for New year, pounding was so loud even if you wanted to watch tv, you couldn't. But then they had enough for a month.

T: soy sauce style.

F: with miso or?

T: I said soy sauce.

F: what ingredients?

T: rice cakes, spinach, and what is that... (he started to make circles with his hand) ...?

F: naruto?

T (yeah that/nods)

F: in my family we do soy sauce, rice cakes, carrot, fish cakes etc.

K (ignoring F comment that they should finish now, in a teasing way): what about osechi, which dishes do you like?

F: konbu maki or kurikinton.

K: how about you, T?

T: that egg dish that is kinda like this (he gestured the shape again)?

Ta: tatemaki?

F: datemaki!

T: I think it's datemaki.

K: I like that beef roll with carrot and green beans inside (its 牛肉の八幡巻き)

F (making very dreamy face): Aaaaaaah that😍 green beans are so good.

F: ok, thank you all.

K: what about Tooru (Ta)?

F: it's time, sorry.

Last comments.

Toshiya: thank you all for gathering here despite the COVID situation. It's difficult to do concerts now so we tried doing film screenings. In difficult times like this it's not only about the band members, there's our staff and also the venues. I'd love to play concerts again, please wait for us.

Kaoru: it is a difficult situation to share my personal opinion... if we can't do the concerts in a way everyone can enjoy... enjoy, it will affect our relationship of mutual trust. I think this (COVID) situation will continue for some time still, so I think it's better to go with the film screening events. But we will keep checking the situation. Please stay healthy and I hope all of you will come to watch it.

[enekorre]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better 💖

Tagged by: @thenoaidi Tack! :D

Favorite colour: Yellow! It reminds me of happiness and the sun. I miss the sun. I also really like to pair it with either purple or green. Yellow/purple is my favourite combo, but yellow/green is summery and happiness and reminds me of laying inside a juniper tree (they're prickly unless you know what you're doing) one summer at school. It also reminds me of the fields and forests here. Everything is so grey this time of year, it gets me really down.

Currently reading: I'm one of those people who read a ton as a kid, and then suddenly found themselves unable to read. Because of that, I'm currently reading 4 books (I havent touched any of them in a long time). Oldest is the first Raven Cycle book. I got a few chapters in. Next one the list is You will get through this night by Dan Howell. Yes, I mainly bought it for nostalgia (watched Dan's vids as a teen/kid), but also because a self help guide seemed like a good idea. I could probably really use it right now, tbh. Haven't been feeling well for quite a while. Next I have 2 books that maybe shouldn't even be on this list, because I only bought them at the end of october, and I haven't actually started them. One is Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (Of AO3 founder fame). I really really really loved Temeraire, and I recognized the fannishness of the writing in Uprooted (while reading Temeraire I didn't know she was Astolat, even though book 8 is very much amnesia fic lol). Because it reminded me of fandom I needed to look her up and lo and behold, she has played a big part in my online life without either of us being aware of it. (If you like dragon go read Temeraire. Most libraries will probably have it. They are So Good.) The last book is the third in a series, where I've read the last two previously. It's The winter of the witch by Kathrene Arden. The first two were really good, lots of fun Russian folklore!

Last series: Not sure is Critical role counts, so Midnight Mass. It was really good, and gave a realistic portrayal of people, good and bad. But it is set in a very Christian town and the first half of the whole show had me hissing in discomfort. If you have some sort of trauma/beef with Christianity be aware of that before starting to watch.

Last movie: Hmm... It might have been Dr. Doolittle? I had two friends over, and one of them wanted to watch it. It was a fun time, very much a movie for the whole family. Kinda made me feel like when I was a kid, hoping magic was real.

Sweet, savoury or spicy: I like all three, but I'm a sucker for sweet. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't use snuff, I don't drink coffee... But candy, that's my addiction. I can easily eat several kilos of candy in a day. If I have some at home I usually can't stop myself. The only way past it is simply not buying any. That way, if the night is young and I want some, I at least get a walk in before stuffing my face.

Craving: Recently I've been having issues with eating enough, and in general liking food has never been my thing. So as to not be boring and just say candy, I'm gonna as my grandparents cooking. As a kid I also had issues with food (someone really should have figured out I was autistic a log time ago), but at my grandparents place I would stuff myself. I think one reason is that they make everything from scratch, and another is that they actually season their stuff properly. I'm okay with stuff that doesn't taste, and I'm also okay with really spicy stuff. But everything that in-between, that just kinda tastes, it's really just ewwww to me. I can force myself to eat, but not much and I always feel like it got stuck in my throat afterwards.

Currently working on: Learning to crochet. My sister is having a baby (unplanned, and she's young, and I dislike the dad, so that's one reason to my bad mental health currently), and I want to make stuff for it when it comes out. I'm gonna be the best aunt ever and love the baby very much. So far I've made a tiny duck, but it's really tiny, and so my mom suggested i make one of those hanging mobile things. That way, I can make more in different shapes, and they wont go to waste.

I tag... Hmm...

@thefollow-spot, @acindra, @comp-lady @seriously-a-dragon @yharnamsnewslug, @perskuiskaaja @punalippulaiva and uuuh anyone who sees this and feels they wanna do it!

Also, people tagged, no need to do it if you don't want too :D

[kittyprincessofcats]

RWBY Volume 8, Episodes 8-12

All caught up with RWBY now! (Except for the premium only episode.)

So, two things first: 1. From now on, my blog will no longer be spoiler free for RWBY! I don’t have premium access, so no spoilers for that, but beyond that, I might now reblog spoilers for everything that’s been released to the public. Blacklist “#RWBY spoilers” if you don’t want to see them.

2. I was going to ask what the spoiler policy in this fandom in general is when it comes to premium access. From what I’ve seen, Youtubers usually wait a week before uploading their reaction videos, which I appreciate – but here on tumblr almost no one seems to hold back. I saw a spoiler for “Creation” before it was released publicly. The day episode 13 was released for premium access, I had to unfollow people for posting untagged spoilers for it. And when I went into a RWBY-related tag for one second, I saw a really big spoiler that put me in a very sour mood because it also happened to be very aggressively worded against fans of a certain character (basically, along the lines of “I’m glad X bad thing happened to Y character because I hate them and their fans”). So, that scared the shit out of me and I ended up looking up more specific spoilers about what exactly happened because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep otherwise. So, from what I’ve seen, this fandom’s spoiler policy is just “fuck anyone who doesn’t have premium access” 😒. Always nice to see people being so considerate.

With that said, let’s get into my thoughts on episodes 8-12. Under the cut, because unlike some people, I try to be considerate of others who might want to avoid spoilers.

- So, the Hound really was a person. Specifically, a person with silver eyes and that’s probably what happened to Summer. THANKS, I HATE IT. This is exactly what I feared it would be and what I didn’t want it to be. (I don’t want Ruby and Yang to have to fight and kill their grimm-ified mom, that’s too sad, okay?)

- I love that Whitley really came through and came up with a plan for evacuating everyone! He’s a good bean after all! And that he managed to press that button on the computer before running from the Hound? Amazing.

- Willow Schnee being one hell of a mama bear and summoning a thing to protect Whitley was epic. She was so close to breaking down before that, but then her child was in danger and she just jumped into action right away. Protective mom instincts ftw!

- Blake’s talk about how she looks up to Ruby and how she herself lost the youthful optimism Ruby still has was SO sweet! (Also, Ladybug is an underrated ship/friendship and I really don’t get why people say they never interact? Have you all just forgotten volume 1 and how Bumbleby’s first meeting happened because Yang was trying to wingman Ruby who was trying to befriend Blake??)

- Penny fighting the virus from the inside was amazing, she did so well! I also loved seeing Nora encourage her (and echo Blake’s earlier words back to her).

- Unrelated to these episodes specifically, but I tried to think about who my favourite RWBY charactes even are right now, and I find it super hard to narrow down because I love so many of them, but if I tried to somewhat narrow it down, then (in no specific order because don’t ask me to also come up with an order): all of Team RWBY (though Blake is a personal favourite), Ilia, Penny, Salem, Cinder. (But then again, I also love Winter and Qrow and Robyn and... you get it, it’s hard to narrow down. Oh, and of course Pyrrha, but... you know.)

- “Witch” was honestly my favourite episode of the bunch. That one was just so full of epic stuff. (And now I’m wondering if Salem being one of my favourite characters has anything to do with my love for witches. I used to be obsessed with witches as a kid. In every story I read that had a witch, the witch was always my favourite character.)

- Yang and her team sure found a way inside that whale fast! Also, really handy that Ren’s semblance evolved just in time for when they needed it. But hey, I don’t want to complain about convenient plot stuff too much. Sometimes the heroes are allowed to have a little bit of good luck.

- Hazel listening to Oscar and deciding to get both him AND Emerald out of there was amazing! He really does have a soft spot for kids and wasn’t kidding about not wanting more kids to die – we love to see it! I also think it makes for an interesting parallel that Hazel decided to do this right as Ironwood was sending students to fight on the front lines and Marrow was calling it out.

- I really liked Ren telling Yang she doesn’t have to hide her fear behind jokes. Ren being able to see emotions is going to bring about so many more good moments, I just know it!

- Emerald and “Hazel’s” talk with Salem gets so much better when you know “Hazel” is actually Oscar – Emerald has gotten so much better at illusions and fooled Salem herself! That’s impressive!

- It’s really practical that Ren could sense Emerald’s fear. But also, the group really didn’t have the time to discuss if Emerald was trustworthy – they needed to get out of there asap.

- The way Salem spits out the word “semblance” when she talks to Emerald shows again that she not only underestimates these “new humans” and their powers, but also considers them inferior. It’s a nice little detail how just her tone when she says that word says so much about her worldview.

- Yang straight-up running up to Salem and blowing her up was epic. It didn’t last of course, but it was still a super bold and epic move. I’ve talked before about how cool Yang is and she just keeps getting cooler.

- Yang calling Salem out was amazing and epic, too! And when she referred to Summer Rose as “my mom” that made me tear up just a bit 😢. (I really don’t like Salem’s smile when she says “her again”, though. I don’t want grimm-ified Summer, I really don’t want it, okay? keep it far away from me where I won’t have to see it.)

- I’m a bit sad about Hazel’s death, but it was a really fitting end for his character and a really cool way to go out. The way he looked at all of those kids in danger (proving again that that’s what it’s about for him), whispered “No more Gretchens” to Oscar, punched Salem in the face as she was about to hurt Emerald, injected all of those crystals into his skin (which looked epic, by the way), told Emerald to go, fought an epic fight against Salem and then grabbed her and set himself and her on fire, burning her like a witch – it was epic stuff! RIP Hazel, you died as a hero and went out in an incredibly epic way!

- Hazel’s sacrifice must have been super tough on Emerald. He died protecting her (and JOYR) and it worked. She got away from Salem, but only because someone else, a friend, died for her. Not only must it be awful for her to lose Hazel, she probably also blames herself. (And, as I’ve seen others point out, it was probably the first time in her life an adult did something to protect her. Wow. Someone get this girl therapy, please.)

- The whale getting blown up was an absolutely epic moment. From the music to the cinematography, I loved everything about it. (That said, I will miss the whale. RIP coolest villain lair ever.)

- I loved Watts’ speech to Cinder – and I’m saying this as someone who became a huge fan of Cinder this volume. I love her, but I also love roasting her, and a lot of what Watts said was stuff she desperately needed to hear. I honestly didn’t even like Watts before that moment, but that speech might have made me like him just a tiny bit. The way he just laughed when she dangled him from a building, the way he spelled it out for her that her methods haven’t been working and threw her failures in her face, the ending with calling her “a bloody migraine” – Like I said, I’m a fan of Cinder, but that was glorious and cathartic and beautiful to witness. But what makes it really perfect is Cinder’s reaction: The fact that you’d expect her to kill him or at least scream at him, but instead she spares him and just sits down and cries. I really love what they’ve been doing with Cinder this volume and that they’re finally showing her as someone way deeper than just a power-hungry villain.

- In general, let me quickly talk about Cinder, because even without having seen the last two episodes I can already tell you that she’s my standout character / favourite character of the season. (It was Ilia for Volume 5, Salem for Volume 6, Penny for Volume 7 – and now it’s Cinder.) I said back in my post about Volume 5 that I wish they’d do more with her because after becoming rather interesting in Volume 4 they just went back to making her a pretty flat villain – and I officially have to eat my words and apologize to RoosterTeeth right now! This volume proved to me that they know what they’re doing with Cinder and explained so much about her. I’m sorry for ever doubting the writing. I now want to go back and rewatch the whole show while paying more attention to Cinder and I can’t wait to see where her arc goes from here (yes, I want an eventual redemption, and what about it?). This volume is obviously setting up something big for her – I just have no idea what it is. And at the end of the day, she’s still the Maiden of Choice. She’s the key to the Beacon relic, and that’s going to become important eventually.

- Oh, and can I mention, just by the way, that I think Cinder looks amazing? I don’t understand all the people who say they miss her red outfits when this is clearly her best look yet. The black eyepatch, the cape, the earrings, the short hair, the high boots, the shorts instead of a dress, all the black – this is her absolute best look, period.

- I’ve also noticed that the scene between her and Watts is the first time Cinder has referred to Penny by name. She’s always referred to her with phrases like “some toy” or “Polendina’s creation” before, but this time she just called her “Penny Polendina”, then “Penny” again, and asked Watts how she’s supposed to take Penny’s power “if she’s dead” (not “destroyed”, which is what Watts said, but “dead” – something you say about a person, not a machine). I think somewhere down the line, Cinder has started to see Penny as a person and respect her as the Winter Maiden. Maybe it’s because of how Penny won the fight at Amity, or maybe (though this might be wishful thinking on my part) it’s because Penny questioned why Cinder serves Salem and showed her and Emerald mercy.

- Also, side-note: While I loved Watts’ speech, it sure is bold of him to call Cinder entitled when his own villain origin story is getting overlooked for a science project.

- Neo is an amazing little troll and I love her. From stealing the lamp and skipping along the ruins of the whale happily to those texts to Cinder, all of her moments were brilliant and hilarious.

- Some characters not just forgiving Emerald is totally fair and realistic. But, as I said before (and as Oscar also points out), they don’t have to. People think a “redemption” – or let’s just call it switching sides instead of using such a loaded term – has to include everyone’s forgiveness, but it doesn’t. If Yang and Jaune never want to personally forgive Emerald, that’s okay. They don’t need to forgive her to recognize that she’s changed and work with her. And, as Oscar and Ren point out, Emerald’s abilities would be very useful to have on their side. So, personal feelings are fine and all, but right now they don’t have the luxury to dismiss a potentially very useful ally. (And same for Oz, by the way. It’s fine if they’re still mad at him, but they also need his help.)

- Also, have I already said that I’m very happy for Emerald? Because I’m very happy for Emerald for getting out of there! (Mercury’s and then Cinder’s redemption next, please!)

- F*ck Harriet for trying to get Winter in trouble for letting JYR go. I’m hating her more every second. And then she seriously said “Who cares?” about Ironwood’s plan to nuke Mantle? She’s the most unlikable of them all.

- Everyone’s reunions were so sweet! I loved Ruby and Yang hugging 😭. And Yang cupping Blake’s cheek and their forehead touch had me all 🥰 🥰 🥰.

- After he threatened to nuke Mantle, I hope we can all agree that Ironwood is a straight-up villain now. The most infuriating part is that he didn’t even have to do anything! Whitley and Weiss had figured out a way to save everyone in Mantle and the SDC ships to evacuate people were already there. All Ironwood had to do was let them evacuate everyone to Atlas, and then Penny would have opened the vault willingly and Ironwood could have used the staff to raise Atlas as planned. Problem solved! He should have just sat there and ate his food – but he was so pissed about things not going his way (or maybe he just genuinely hates Mantle that much) that he thought sabotaging the rescue plan and threatening genocide was a better option.

- I loved Marrow’s arc in these episodes and how you could tell more and more that his conscience was making him turn against Ironwood. First he questioned Winter when she was going to nuke the whale before JOYR were back, then he seemed shocked when he thought they were dead, then he tried to talk sense into the other Ace Ops after Ironwood’s ultimatum, and then he straight-up called out Ironwood himself. That last one was dangerous though, and he was lucky Winter was quick enough to jump in and pretend to arrest him, because Ironwood was going to just shoot him in the back.

- Speaking of, I wonder how long Winter has been planning to double-cross Ironwood. How long was she already disagreeing with him, but waiting for the right moment to make a move? Either way, I’m glad she was there to save Marrow.

- The Renora confession scene was so sweet and got me a little choked up 😢. I’m glad they sorted out their issues and told each other how they feel. But like I said before, I think Nora’s arc of trying to find out who she is without Ren is really good and important and Ren respecting that was really good and important as well. It was just a very wholesome scene. Also, I like that we got a little bit more backstory for Nora (her mom abandoned her? that’s awful), and Jaune awkwardly leaving the room was hilarious.

- Robyn telling Qrow he’s a better Huntsman than Clover because he chose to do the right thing was a really important moment for Qrow, imo. (And just a side-note: I’m sure most Fair Game shippers are pretty chill – and I’m a strong believer in ‘ship and let ship’ – but a certain subset of them is starting to get on my nerves with how they ignore Clover’s canon character and story (acting like he would have rebelled against Ironwood if he were alive as if the whole reason he’s dead wasn’t precisely because he cared more about Ironwood’s orders than doing the right thing) and how they make every new plot point about their ship somehow (Oscar’s semblance? Better be a time-travel thing so Clover can come back. Staff of Creation? Better be able to bring people back from the dead so Clover can come back.) It’s so annoying.)

- Yang and Ruby’s talk about their mom was really intense. Ruby’s been holding all of these feelings in for so long, so seeing her say out loud what we’re all fearing (that Summer was turned into a Grimm) and seeing both her and Yang break down over it – that was a lot. I loved seeing Yang comfort Ruby and tell her that her plan for Amity wasn’t useless. Their sisterly bond is so sweet.

- Penny asking Ruby to kill her was another really intense moment. The look on Ruby’s face in that moment really said it all. Ruby has been through so much, has lost Penny before, so hearing that request – even though they fortunately didn’t have to go through with it – must have still been a lot for her.

- I really loved Emerald’s cute “newly reformed villain” moments. (“You guys have been getting your asses kicked… some of that my fault” & “I’m just going to be super pissed if you all finally decide to give up the moment I switch sides.”) I’ve said before (in my She-Ra posts) that my favourite part of any redemption arc is the “former enemies, now awkward around each other” stuff, so this was right up my alley!

- “The girl who fell through the world” was referenced twice now. Between that, the image of everyone falling in the opening, and the lyrics “sometimes it’s worth it all to risk the fall”, I’m going to predict that someone – most likely all of Team RWBY – will fall into that void and potentially end up in a different world.

- The group’s plan to defeat Ironwood, stop the bomb, and get to the vault was amazing all-around. I love the parts Emerald and Winter got to play in it, I love how we saw the plan’s execution before seeing how they came up with it and I love how everyone got to help, even the Schnees and Klein. I also love that the hole Oscar blasted through the ground of Atlas became relevant again.

- The design of the vault and the door are really nice and now I wonder what the other two are going to look like.

- Saving Penny like that was super risky, but they really were out of options. Just the fact that Ruby had to be quick enough to use her semblance and get to the staff before the virus kills Penny… jeesh, that was close.

- Ambrosius is a super fun character! I love that he looked at Penny and said “I’d love to meet whoever did this.” Also, the staff seems more useful than the lamp. The lamp only lets you ask three questions per century, while the staff can be used as often as you want – as long as you’re okay with whatever it previously created disappearing.

- I honestly still don’t completely understand what Penny is now. Is she meant to be human now? Or is she just a being made up of pure aura? How does this work? Ambrosius only created the copy that destroyed herself, so what’s left is Penny’s aura – but she somehow also has a body now? I guess we’ll find out more about what exactly this means later.

- Also, while I wasn’t sure how I feel about this decision re:Penny at first, now that I’ve thought about it for a bit, I think it works. It fits with the Pinocchio story, and I like that they didn’t phrase it as “she’s a real girl now”, but as “this is the girl who’s been in there all along”. Also, Penny saying “wow” after hugging Ruby and then going on a hugging spree was adorable.

- Watching “herself” self-terminate must have been really traumatic, though. Even if that copy was just a robot, it was still a disturbing scene.

- Who shut down communications in the middle of Jaune’s broadcast? I’m assuming it was Cinder, Watts and Neo.

- The whole dimension with the doorways that Ambrosius created looks amazing. (A while before watching this episode, I wondered if Raven could theoretically save Atlas by getting everyone to safety with her portals. It might not have been Raven, but I’m glad I was at least onto something.)

- “Do not fall.” So, about that… they’re all falling in the opening, (and we referenced “the girl who fell through the world” twice now), so I don’t have a good feeling about that. Also, Watts has been dangled from somewhere high twice now, so the third time has to be when he actually falls down.

- And Cinder is there to ruin the plan because of course she is.

[luthienebonyx]

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @nightreaderenigma - thanks!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Note: I’ve noted the fandom for stories other than JB.

1.   "How much is he paying you?" Sansa asks bluntly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. (Doubt Truth to be a Liar, Jaime/Brienne)

2. The small, knowing smile that young Melbury sends Ferdy one night at Limmer's is almost nothing, but Gil notices. (Phthonos, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy)

3. Hero did not mean to intrude on Gil's and Ferdy's privacy. (Euclidean Geometry, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero)

4. The marriage of George, Lord Wrotham, and Miss Isabella Milborne was widely regarded as the wedding of the Season, though it was not nearly so illustrious a match as might have been expected for a young lady known far and wide—in the gentleman's clubs at least—as the Incomparable. (That Greek Thing, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero, George/Isabella)

5. It is said that the storyteller shapes the story, but I have found it equally true that the story is shaped by its intended audience. (Twelve Days, The Queen’s Thief - Megan Whalen Turner, Kamet/Costis)

6. It takes Brienne less than thirty seconds to decide that she doesn't like Jaime Lannister. (History Never Repeats, Jaime/Brienne)

7. Brienne hesitated before pressing the intercom button. (The Personal Touch, Jaime/Brienne)

8. Rodney shivers as the puddlejumper draws near the surface. (Siberia, Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney)

9. Brienne was quiet as the plane took off, looking out the window as the Gold Coast fell away below them, and they climbed steadily until they'd reached cruising altitude. (The Last Day of Christmas, Jaime/Brienne)

10. They probably wouldn't have noticed the tent if Addam hadn't staggered out of the Gravitron and been noisily sick all over Jaime's trainers. (A Doom Unescaped, Jaime/Brienne)

11. The London Season has been the focus of all well-connected and ambitious British Mamas—as well as rather less well-connected but even more ambitious British Mamas—of hopeful daughters since the Eighteenth Century. (An Ever-fixed Mark, A Countess Below Stairs aka The Secret Countess - Eva Ibbotson, Ollie/Peter)

12. It surprised Brienne how quickly she'd become used to the idea of summer in December. (On the first day of Christmas (my true love gave to me), Jaime/Brienne)

13. Sansa doesn’t understand. (Life’s Not a Song, Jaime/Brienne)

14. Brienne awakes with a shiver, not sure where she is or what's going on, but instantly awake like the soldier she still feels herself to be. (Beloved, Jaime/Brienne)

15. The spring that follows the winter-that-might-have-lasted-forever is fleeting, and all too soon they're in the midst of an almost unlooked for summer that feels not quite real. (Is this the way love’s supposed to be?, Jaime/Brienne)

16. They arrive on Tarth after one of the shortest and most violent spring storms in living memory. (Walking in the Sun Once More, Jaime/Brienne)

17. Brienne didn't even wait until Jaime had finished closing the bedroom door behind them. (After Party, Jaime/Brienne)

18. Jaime awoke to the familiar sensation of a head pillowed against his chest. (Interlude, in Sunshine, Jaime/Brienne) 

19. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," Brienne said, scanning the shelves with a look in her eye that was getting wilder by the second. (The Night Before the Night Before Christmas (aka the Long Night), Jaime/Brienne)

20. Brienne awoke slowly, disoriented, and yet not. (Knights and Knaves, Jaime/Brienne)

Patterns: Well, the main one is that I like to open with a statement, rather than more general description or dialogue, which is something I was already aware of. Two out of twenty start with dialogue, which feels about the right ratio for my fic more generally.

2, 3 and 4 (which are a short series starting with the story I wrote for Yuletide last year) and also 5 and 11 are for book fandoms, so I was trying to capture the canon style with them. This means that they’re less obviously ‘me’ than the others. I seem to tend more naturally towards shorter opening lines than the sort of wordiness that you see in 4 and 11.

Three of these describe people waking up and... yeah, guilty as charged. I know they’re not the only stories I’ve started with that particular gambit.

Apart from that, the only other thing of note is that 9, 12, 18, 19 & 20 are all from my Aussie coffee ‘verse, and 13, 14, 15 & 16 are all from my After Everything canon divergence AU series - so they’re not ‘real’ beginnings in the way the stand alones are.

Oh, and one more thing: I’ve included 8 because it’s among the 20 most recent stories I’ve posted on AO3, but I actually wrote it back in 2005. It’s interesting to note how easily it fits in with the more recent stuff. I think it’s pretty clear that while my writing may have changed in some ways over the years, my thought processes haven’t changed much at all.

Favourite:  While 10 makes me grin (it’s a prologue in which Jaime and Addam are aged 13, in case you’re wondering!) I think my favourites are 4 and 5, because I loved writing both of those stories so much and part of that was capturing the style and feel of the canon. I think that comes through clearly in both of those opening lines.

My favourite opening line of mine remains a story from long, long (about 20 years) ago though, which begins: There were people on the ceiling. I don’t think I will ever top that one.

Tagging: I think everyone I can think of has already been tagged, but if you haven’t been tagged and would like to do this meme, consider yourself tagged by me!

[cosmiclove-heavenstruck]

Gravity | JJ Maybank (Outer Banks, Season 1)

Pairing: JJ x fem!reader

Wordcount: 2100 words

Warnings: swearing, mentioning of underaged drinking/smoking

a/n: English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. Also, this is just a simple oneshot, so don't expect a great plot or anything. Have fun!

“because in my world, i'm constantly havin' a breakthrough or a breakdown, or a blackout, would you make out with me underneath the shelter of the balcony?”

─ clementine by halsey

[ Clementine, better known as Clem by the Pouges, lived on the southside of Outer Banks with her mum, near John B's home. Her mum worked pretty hard and was often out of town, so Clem was usually to herself. Since she began to work for Kiara’s dad two years ago, she sort of grew on the chaotic group and got involved in a lot more shit than expected. Besides serving tables at the restaurant, hanging out in the hammocks or on John B’s boat and handling the one or other mystery on the island, Clementines mind was occupied by a certain blonde guy. ]

The sun was nearly unberable, making me fan myself with my book. Summer had arrived, in full glory and a lot of hot air. I relaxed in my hammock behind our small bungalow and swung from side to side to keep myself from falling asleep, one foot on the dry grass.

Summer break just started two days ago and it was already boiling outside.

My hammock was placed between two thick trees, right beside the water and the wooden dock. Small waves sloshed against it from time to time and seabirds squealed above my head. I felt at peace and my body nearly forgot it already had more than ten hours of sleep last night as my phone vibrated. A new message from JJ lit up on its screen.

get urself ready

5 min.

A smile spread across my face. Within seconds I was back in my room, putting on my bathing suit, a pair of shorts and an open shirt with hawaiian flowers. I packed some drinks into my small cooling bag, slipped into my flip flops and wrote my mum a message in case she would be home before me.

With a towel over my shoulder and the cooling bag in my hand I walked outside again and onto the dock. John B was already steering his white boat towards the wooden planks as I reached the front.

“Aloha boys,” I greeted them with a big smile, and JJ held out his hand so I could easily jump on board.

“Hi Clem.”

“Aloha, darling. Watcha got there?” JJ asked, peeking over his sunglasses.

Once in a while, when I hadn't seen JJ for a day or two, I thought I wasn't completely head over heals for the sunkissed boy anymore and my heart had settled. But then he had the nerve to smile at me again and my whole body began to tingle.

“One for you.” I handed John B a cooled beer bottle which he thanked me for with a fast kiss onto my tempel. He was at least two feet taller than me. “And one for you.”

I threw another one in JJ's direction before getting myself one, placing my stuff under the bench seat and sitting down beside him.

“That just saved my day,” JJ answered and gave the cold glass a kiss, then he kissed me on my cheek. I hid my smile by taking a sip of beer.

“Don't lie, you already had two,” John B said grinning while he navigated the ship to where Pope lived. The boy was standing outside, helping his dad by cleaning some empty, second-hand boxes as usually.

“Hey, Pope, get your ass in here!”

“I told you yesterday, I can't!”

His dad came outside, a broom in his hands as if he wanted to chase us away. It wasn't a secret his dad disliked us.

“Oh, come on, it's summer vacation,” I interfered and waved him. Pope was already putting down the water hose and giving his dad an excusing look.

“I'll do it tomorrow. I promise!”

“Hell nah, you're stayin'!”

“I’ll be back for dinner!” Pope laid the pipe down and snatched a towel from the railing.

“Get in the boat, get in the boat,” John B whispered, whereupon Pope jumped onto the deck of the ship.

“Pope! Get back here right now!”

“We're getting him back safe, promise!” JJ yelled as John B turned the speed back up and we rushed through the waves up to Kie's house.

“Man, your dad is so unrelaxed. He should try one of my joints.”

“Don't you dare. He'll get us all killed.”

I laughed at the boys conversation. Such idiots. But I loved them nonetheless. They were my family.

Kie lived on the rich northside of Outer Banks, even though she hated it with nearly every fiber of her heart. The darkhaired girl was casually walking up to us, in her hand a bag fully of snacks ─ at least I hoped so.

“Morning y'all.”

“Welcome on board, pretty. Are those snacks?”

JJ got up to give Kie a hand, just like he did with me. Her hair was in a messy pointail, held together by a green cloth.

“Oh, you know. Some watermelon slices, stuff like that,” She joked, smiling.

Kiara was pretty. And not just that, she was smart and knew how to handle things. That didn't stay unnoticed by the guys. They were practically all into her, even if they weren't admitting it. Which wouldn't have been a problem if I was that confident in myself too. Or a bit more adventurous, inventive, whatever.

I wasn't jealous of her. In fact, she was one of my best friends, the only female one I may add. She made sure I got a job at her father’s restaurant, for which I couldn't be more thankful.

“Hey Kie.”

“Hey,” She greeted me, hugging me tightly before sitting down next to me. We provided everyone with drinks so we could touch glasses.

“Salud, guys. To the best summer of all times,” JJ announced, holding up his bottle.

“To the best summer of all times,” We echoed him and clinked our bottles together.

John B turned up the speed and the volume of the stereo as the waves splashed against the boat. I closed my eyes, smelling the salty water, my coconut sunscreen and the beer. I had missed summer.

We stayed out all day long on the water, sunbathing and diving in the ocean. Kie connected her phone with the stereo and put on some of our favourite songs. As the sun was slowly going to set, we all laid in the front of the white varnished boat, sandy and drained from all the sun. Within five minutes, we infested Kie's brought snacks and finished the beers.

JJ was passing around a joint he made himself. His skin glowed orange in the evening sun, even though there were some light bruises on his rips. His head was resting on my tanned legs.

After everyone had taken one or two drags, my body didn't feel as tired anymore. Kie started some more upbeat songs and while Pope navigated the boat back to John B's place, we danced. It probably looked horrible, but it was fun.

First, I was just dancing with Kie. Spinning her around and stuff, but she knew about my feelings for JJ. She was the only one I had told, ever. She was also the only one who believed JJ was interested in me too, as much as I tried to talk her out of it.

So, of course she used my blurry state to get me to dance with JJ. To make it less awkward, I stole his sunglasses and put them on, stupidly smiling at him.

“We dancin' now?”

“Absolutly.”

Grinning, he grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him. Kie winked at me.

JJ put one of his hands on my hips, swaying me around in the front of the boat.

The sun was melting into the water and gave everything an orange touch. My body was glowing because of the heat, my heartbeat was going way too fast. JJ's blond hairstrands fell into his eyes and I couldn't stop laughing. Then he let me make a twist so my back was pressed against his belly and our hands were intertwined. Once he had unknotted us, he dipped me before pulling me up again. We were so close, our noses nearly touched.

“You look good with my glasses.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I might keep it.”

I grinned and bit my bottom lip. His eyes looked so pretty. Blue like the ocean.

“Hey guys, not on my boat, okay?” John B reminded us that we still had company around us.

I rolled my eyes and ─ as much as I didn't want to ─ let go of JJ. My hand slipped out of his and it felt like I was suddenly bound to gravity again.

Pope and Kie attached the rope of the boat with the hook on the dock, and I grabbed my stuff and followed the others to John B's house. I placed the now empty cooling box and my towel on the porch. My body felt like the alcohol and weed had left out of nowhere. The sun was barely seeable by now and the wind was colder than expected.

Inside, I put my clothes back over my swimwear and tamed my frizzy hair in a loose bun.

“That. Was. So. Much. Flirting.” Kie bumped her ellbow into rips with a knowing smile on her lips.

“Shut up. That was nothing.”

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

I crossed my arms, eyeing her in disbelief. My head just couldn't comprehend the idea of someone liking me like that. Especially not JJ.

“He likes you. A lot. Trust me.”

“Come on, Kie. Just because he flirts with me once doesn't mean he has feelings for me. You know how many girls want him.”

She scoffed. “Okay, fine. I'm gonna ask him.”

“Wha─ No. No, Kie!” I whisper-screamed at her and tried to grab her arm, but she escaped my grasp and jogged into the kitchen where the boys probably looted John's fridge. Fuck.

“Uh, guys, my mum texted me. I'm gonna go now, see ya tomorrow!” I yelled and quickly escaping onto the porch. The warmth seemed to have disappeared, thick rain drops where pouring down onto the shelter of the porch.

There was no way I would just let Kie embarrass me because ─ surprise ─ JJ wasn't actually flirting with me. Absolutely not.

I was already on the last step and out in the rain, as someone called me.

“Clem? Wait.” JJ. Goddamnit. I shut my eyes for a second before facing him.

“Yup?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

He scratched the back of his neck. “You─ uh... You still have my sunglasses.”

My heart dropped. Had I honestly expected something else?

“Yes, right. Sorry.”

I shook my head, scoffing as I took them off and went up the stairs again. I left my stuff down on the paveway. Internally, I was shaking like hell. My heart was a wreck. Utterly nervous. Maybe Kie hadn’t said anything, maybe he hadn’t heard her, I thought.

I stood infront of him again, not as close as before though. Without thinking and instead of just handing the stupid glasses over like a normal person, I put them on his face. He didn't need them, the sun had already vanished beneath the ocean. I did it anyway.

JJ pushed them up in his hair.

And then we were just looking at each other and I hade to pull myself together so I wouldn't faint. I gulped and tugged at my own shirt, that ridiculous hawaiian shirt.

“So,” JJ spoke under his breath. The rain was still pouring down onto the plastic shelter. My heart beat felt louder, and I wondered if he could hear it. I was so scared.

“Goodnight, J.”

With that, I turned around and wanted to leave, like I always did when I was too afraid to face the truth.

“I like you too.”

Everything in me froze just to melt in the next second. My heart stumbled. So Kie did tell him.

Slowly, I turned back around.

JJ just stood there, hands in his pockets and sunglasses in his hair, chewing unsurely on his bottom lip. He seemed vulnerable. No smug grin, no stupid joke on the tip of his tongue.

“I mean I really, really like you, Clementine. More than that.”

For once, I didn't want to be afraid. If he could be brave, I could too. Within a second, I was back in front of him, though way closer. Even closer than on the boat.

And this time, I kissed him.

My hands grabbed his hair, pulling his face down to mine, and once he had understood, I felt his arms wrap around my waist. There was no gravity pulling me down when we were this close.

“I really like you, too,” I mumbled between two kisses. I could feel his lips forming a smile as he pressed them onto mine again.

“"I thought you'd never admit it,” He said, grinning.

“Don't get used to it,” I answered, grinning just as wide as he did.

And then he kissed me again under the shelter of the balcony, surrounded by the heavy sound of the rain, while I buried my hands in his hair and he pulled me off the ground.

[nestasgalpal]

Folklore (Nesta Archeron Fanfiction)

The lakes

This fanfic is pure Nesta angst. Each chapter is inspired by a song from Folklore, as if Nesta was composing/playing/singing the song while having the moment I narrate in mind. This first chapter was inspired by The Lakes, which reminded me to what Nesta might sing to her friend Claire.

“Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die/ I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” meaning the true form of their relationship, and “A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground/ With no one around to tweet it/ While I bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love/ And insurmountable grief” being about how she misses not only her but how she made her feel.

I would like you to listen to the son after you read the chapter and check for yourself if it makes sense. The piece she sings in the begining of the chapter was also inspired by this cover of Sodier, Poet King.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Nesta’s voice was like silk as she sang to them. Elain and Claire were dancing together with their feet on the edge of the pond to the rythm of the song, and Nesta was reclining against a tree close enough for them to use her music as their own personal orchestra. The summer afternoon breeze stirred their dresses, and the sun made Nesta’s blond hair shine like gold.

There will come a poet Whose weapon is His word He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord

Her sister and her friend started singing the last verse with her. It was a well known poem, an all time favourite for the Archeron sisters and now also one of Clare’s even if it was only because of the memory she would keep of their summer afternoons, the three of them together.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei-oh lai-oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord He will tear your city down, oh lei-oh lai... oh

Their village was too cold and too close to the Wall for troups to come in the winter or even in autumn, but at least one made an apparence during the summer, and the three girls went to see their spactacles in the plaza. Nesta and Clare were 16, Elain a year younger, and boys were starting to look at them with a special shine in their eyes. A young musician had fallen in love with Clare this year, and the girl, who wasn’t very fond of the boys she had at her disposal in the village, had enjoyed the way the rad-haired musician followed her around. He wrote a poem for her, admiring her short brown hair and olive skin, and ultimetly had asked her for a kiss, which Nesta’s friend had been delighted to give.

Her first kiss.

Nesta had never had one.

That was the topic of the day. How did it taste? And what was one supposed to do, anyway? Were you supposed to stand there and be kissed or was it perhaps more difficult than that?

“I’ll show you” Clare had offered, tired of Nesta’s questions.

With a chucke, Clare cuped her friend’s face and pressed her lips softly against Nesta’s. She was delicate, careful and sweet, and Nesta knew right in that moment that no other kiss she receibed in her lifetime would compare to that one. When they separated, Claire’s eyes were dreamy, while Nesta’s were muzzy. Both of them laughed nervously, their faces still close and Clare’s hands still caressing Nesta’s cheeks.

They broke apart when Elain cleared her throat, mad she had been forgothen in the pond. Claire laughed and let Nesta’s face go to stand up and run towards the other one. She extended her arms and Elain took her hands to run back to Nesta together.

The three of them sitted in the green grass, trying to cover their heads with the shadows the trees projected. The meadow was full of daisies and dandelions, an the pond’s water was clear. That’s why Nesta’s favorite season was summer. It rarely rained, so the dirt in the pond’s bottom wasn’t shaken by it and the surface didn’t become muddy.

“So... Elain” Clare’s smile was hussy and big, like she knew she was about to get some good gossip “Soldier, poet or king... which one would you pick?”

Usually Nesta didn’t feel comfortable talking about boys. Not yet. She kept it to herself so she didn’t look childish, but she still dreamed one day their father would gain back their fortune and she would be able to find a better man than the ones she could find in the village. But this time it was different, since it was just the three of them picking a character from a song. It was just an inocent pick. There were not soldiers, no poets and no kings there, so it meant nothing.

“Easy” said Elain “The poet is for me, the soldier for Nesta, and-”

“And the ruler for me?” Clare compleated, excited and already laughing at the idea. “I don’t know about that...”

Elain, who enjoyed this kind of games a little more than Nesta did, noded, also smiling, but with a glimpse of superiority in her gesture. “The ruler is for Feyre, dear” Her words came out sweet, but with a clear intention: to put Clare in her place. Her sister loved their friend as much as Nesta did, but sometimes she could get a little jelous if the two of them came too close and left her behind. Nesta coud understand that, it was only fair, so she allowed her to say this kind of things from time to time just to make her happy.

This time Elain was speaking the truth, though. Since they first heard the poem, the soldier had been for Nesta, a knight to protect her in her adventures. She used to play with the idea of the ruler as her pick, but she would never be satisfied with a throne that was given to her, she would rather take it herself. That’s why she needed a knight and his armies: to help her.

Then Feyre, who was the youngest and hadn’t got mutch of a personality when Elain and her became obsesed with the song, would marry the ruler and be queen. Easy.

“Finally, I would marry the poet, who, just like your musician wooer, would write a thousand poems and songs about my beauty and kindness” Elain explained to their mutual friend the story they had made up a long tme ago, when their mother was still alive and they enjoyed singing.

Now Nesta hardly ever did it, only when she felt comfortable enough to do so. With her sister and her best friend, she did, she felt safe.

“Nah, that would never work” Clare complained, taking Nesta out of her daydreaming.

“What part?” she asked.

“You and the soldier, silly!” she thought it was funny, but Nesta didn’t. The oldest of the Archeron frowned. “You could never be happy with a soldier, Nes. They work for kings, so his loyalty would be to someone else, not to you. Never to you.” Clare, who was sitted in the grass and leanin in one hand, lay down on the soil and rested her head on Nesta’s lap. “I know you, Nes, and you need someone you can always rely on, otherwise you won’t be satisfied. You don’t need the kind of safety a sword provides, you need reliability, and you would never find it in the soldier”.

Nesta’s brow was still frowned. She really didn’t like talking about boys.

“What do I need, then?”

“A poet, Nes” Clare’s voice was so  blissful she couldn’t help but relax her face. She ment no harm, she was not trying to ridiculize her by bringing up the subject. Clare didn’t even know she was so insecure about it. “You need a sensible soul to feel your pain and help you carry it. You have a wonderer soul yourself, so it would be a perfect match.”

“Is Tomas your poet, Nesta?” Elain asked, bringing herself back to the conversation. This hurt Nesta a little more, since Elain did know about it, but she let it go. It was just one of those moments of jelousy she felt sometimes.

“No” she replied. Tomas was none of the three. Not even close.

“Promise me, Nesta” Clare asked. She had her eyes closed and the breeze fluttered her short hair in Nesta’s lap. Years later, The oldest Archeron sister would go back to that exact moment and wonder if she had actually been that beautiful or it was just her brain tring to keep a good memory of her dead friend. But in that moment, she actualy saw her as a sleepy angel, gifting Nesta her heart. A blessing. “Promise me you won’t settle with the soldier and you will find a poet who makes you trully happy and is devoted to you”.

In that moment she thought her friend had Tomas in mind as “the soldier”, but now Nesta fantasized with the posibility of Clare talking about Cassian. Had she known something? Like a vision sent by a forgoten god from the mortal realm? What would her friend think if she saw her now, alone in a tent, cold, curled up in a tiny matress in the Illyrian Mountains, lost in her own pain because she had wanted to trust in the soldier’s word and he had failed her? He told Nesta they would have time and he would always find her, but Claire was right and his loyalty had never been hers. What had she done? What would she do from now on?

“I promise” a youg version of herself answered.

Clare smiled and pulled Nesta’s face close to her to kiss her again.

[nheirei]

Thank you bebe! @tedkravitzs This was way longer than when I read the questions lmao

What color are your eyes?

Kinda greenish? But i have like 7 black dots in them lol

What instantly tells you a person is good?

My person radar is fucked. I have no idea. Probably giving out free food/buying something for other person without asking for a repayment etc

Do you have a recurring dream?

I do actually! It's never completely the same, but the theme stays strong throughout it every time I dream it.

It involves me having to either run away from something/someone chasing me when I'm in some building/house/my home and the doors are locked. So I'm left with the windows, but I'm always on a high floor and realize in that dream that if I fall I will die. But I also think to myself, that maybe this is a dream again, where I can just fly out of it. I'm never sure if it's real this time, or the dream again, but every single time I still open the window, stand on the windowsill, wonder if it's real or not and jump out anyway. And fly.

I wonder if one day I will get it wrong.

What's the most interesting class you've taken?

I enjoyed my criminal law classes, those were very real life.

How often do you find yourself daydreaming?

Every day, the more the better. I mean, I feel awful afterwards, because I feel like I wasted my time and did nothing actually useful, but I still can't stay focused on real life too much.

Name/nickname

I dont have anyone to give me nicknames xd But my name is Katarzyna.

Zodiac

Cancer (just like me lmao)

Height

Somewhere around 176cm? It's been years since I've been measured tho, I'm not sure if I grew since last time.

Nationality

Polish. I want to run away.

Favourite color?

Grey. I want to be invisible.

Favourite season?

Definitely not summer, because I'm melting. I love winter, but only if it's the snowy, cold winter, and not that muddy, shitty, humid mess.

Favourite animals

My dog. None other can compare.

Okay and dragons

Tea, coffee or hot chocolate

If I really had to choose, I'd go with hot chocolate, although irl I only ever drink bottled water.

Average hours of sleep?

8-9. I never miss them. No matter what bullshit is going on in my life, my sleep is sacred. I always turn off my phone when I go to sleep too. If anyone has a problem after I get into bed, it's between them and God. I'll be available in the morning.

Cat or dog person

I've only ever had a dog, so I have no real experience with cats

Number of blankets slept with

Two. Only if the temperatures at night during summer stays over 30C I'll sleep under one. During winter, I get three. If I'm too warm, I'll open the window a lil bit rather than take them off.

Places, ancestors are from?

I mean, we're Slavic. Russia had its claws on all of us and I live relatively close to the border. It's possible some are from Lithuania or Belarus or Ukraine maybe. Maybe even current Russia.

Dream trip

Somewhere with lots of snow, but no humans. Please.

Blog established?

Uhhhh long ago. Like, probably at least 7 years ago? Maybe even earlier. Idk, I don't remember where to check it.

Random fact about me

I'd rather live in my day dreams scenarios.

Three ships?

I dont ship

Last song

Begging by Maneskin

Last movie

Black Widow

Currently reading

A gathering of shadows by V.E.Schwab

Currently watching

Jujutsu Kaisen (2nd time)

Currently craving?

My mom's chocolate cookies. I've asked her a thousand times to make me a few before I leave for uni again but she won't.

Thank you so much for tagging me! I'm awful at remembering to reply to tags, I'm sorry about that, I just always lose them or forget. But I love to see being tagged and remembered!

I'm tagging @nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars @calm-anxiety @jasmlove01 @luvroffictionalcharacters @harleymetall it's totally okay if you don't feel like it.

[marwritesgood]

Changes | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Henderson!Reader

Timeframe: Season 3

Summary: When Dustin asks his sister to take him to Scoops Ahoy so he can see Steve, she knows it’s time to break the news to him.

masterlist

A/N: Send your requests in! I’m finishing Season 3 as we speak.

“Henderson! He’s back!”

When Dustin kept nagging me to drive him to Starcourt so he could see Steve for the first time since getting back from camp, I would have never anticipated the greeting they gave one another the minute Steve bursted through the doors.

“You got the job,” Dustin exclaimed, grinning happily. I knew he was disappointed about not reaching Suzie, and his friends not welcoming the way he wanted, so it was nice to see him happy again for a change.

“I got the job!” Steve laughed back, matching Dustin’s enthusiasm, something I had gotten mildly used to during our time together over the summer so far. 

After the two exchanged a complex, yet extremely dorky handshake, I sighed and leaned against the counter. Robin and I shared an amused glance, before turning our attention back to the two boys who were giggling, for having completed their elaborate handshake which ended with them pretending to vomit. Classic.

“How many children are you friends with?” Robin asked from behind the register. I tried my best to stifle the urge to laugh, but Steve’s inability to respond to her question sent me reeling.

“Okay, alright,” he droned, acting like he didn’t appreciate mine and Robin’s amusement, however, his unfazed grin suggested otherwise. “Henderson, you look like you’re in need of some ice cream, yeah? On the house.”

“Alright,” Dustin cheered. I didn’t think it would be possible for his mood to improve even more, but ice cream has that kind of effect on people. “I could go for a banana split boat.”

“You got it,” Steve answered, before turning to me with a smirk. “I think I might need an extra set of hands though, since Robin’s working the counter-”

“Oh jeez,” Robin sighed, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“Y/n? Could you gimme some help?”

“Suuure,” I answered, in my artificially sweet tone. I hadn’t broken the news to Dustin yet, that Steve and I were dating, and he was making it really difficult to hide with all of his smirks and side glances. “Dusty, go save us a table and we’ll bring it out to you, yeah?”

“Okay,” he answered, too overcome with joy and excitement to take note of anything weird in our behaviour. Thank goodness.

After Dustin began walking towards the closest empty table he could find, Steve took my hand and gently pulled me along as he hastily made his way to the back room of Ships Ahoy, making sure my little brother wasn’t looking.

“You haven’t told him yet, have you?”

“I tried to,” I said, trying to reason with him. We had agreed that I would tell Dustin about our relationship as soon as he got home from camp, but with his friends surprising him and him getting disappointed when he couldn’t reach Suzie, it got increasingly difficult to bring up. “But then Mike and El bailed on him, and he couldn’t get Suzie to reply so Lucas and Max still don’t believe she’s real, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Babe, slow down,” Steve said softly, placing both of his hands on my shoulders and breathing deeply, so that I could follow.

“He was just really bummed out,” I explained. “And he was super excited to see you, and I didn’t wanna change that.”

“Okay, I get it. We’ll just tell him now. Together... After we give him the ice cream, yeah?” I nodded after chuckling lightly. “But, I gotta ask... Was he... The only one excited to come see me again?”

He didn’t wait a second, to pull me closer to him, and snaking his arms around my lower back. As he leaned in towards me, staring intently at my lips, I placed my hand on his shoulders and kept him from getting any closer.

“What are you doing? He can probably see our silhouettes.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he whined, frowning as he reluctantly leaned back. He still kept his around me, and gently tightened his grasp. “I haven’t seen you all week. Can’t I have just one kiss before we break your little brother’s heart?”

“Well I’ll be damned. Do my ears deceive me?” I gasped dramatically, before linking my fingers together behind his neck. “Have I been transported to an alternate dimension, or is the Steve Harrington actually begging?”

“You know what you do to me,” he leaned close and whispered in my ear. It was needless to say that, even after years of dealing with his bullshit, and almost an entire month of dealing with his whining, he still knew just what to say to make my heart jump.

“Tell you what,” I began, before slowing pulling away from Steve, who reluctantly released his grasp. “You help me get through breaking the news to Dustin, and I’ll consider ‘accidentally’ making my way over to your place after I drop him off at home. Deal?”

I hold my hand out for him to shake, the way we always would when making deals. A tradition that dates back to our time together in middle school. But, instead of shaking my hand, Steve takes hold of it, lifts it up, and kisses the back of it. Before I can react, he quickly turns towards the ice cream tubs, and begins assembling the banana split boat.

“You’re such a dork,” I laughed, before helping him with the toppings. 

After we finished Dustin’s banana split, I held the door open for Steve so he could take it to the table where he sat. We had been in the back room for at least twenty minutes, but Dustin’s excitement remained unfazed. This both warmed my heart and brought me a strong feeling of unease. 

“Hey Y/n,” Robin called out to me, as I followed Steve towards the table. When I turned to face her, she held out a cone with two scoops of my favourite flavour of ice cream. “For you... You look like you need it.”

“Angel, Robin,” I muttered, before eagerly taking the ice cream from her hands. “You are an angel. A whole fucking guardian one.”

She tipped her hat off, making me chuckle, before I turned to see Steve sitting with Dustin. I walked over to their table, and sat on the left side , so that Dustin was inbetween Steve and I. They were in the middle of a conversation about Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend. 

“No way,” Steve said, shaking his head at Dustin, who lifted a heaped spoonful of ice cream to his mouth. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No way.”

“What was that Steve?” I asked in annoyance, daring him to call another woman hot in front of me again. He quickly realised I was at the table too, and smiled cheekily at me. “Hm? Oh, nothing,” he answered.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” 

Dustin was an easily mesmerised kid, I knew that better than anyone. The prospect of free unlimited food, however, was something he will forever be blown away by.

“Yeah, I mean sure,” Steve shrugged. “It’s not really a good idea for me, though. You know, ‘cause I gotta keep in shape for...”

I raised my eyebrows, and Robin did too from her spot all the way from behind the register. Was this really how he wanted to tell my little brother we were dating? Steven quickly noticed my expression of concern, and kept himself from finishing the sentence with my name.

“... the ladies.”

“The ladies?” Dustin repeated, amused by Steve’s response.

“Yeah, the ladies, Steve?” I repeated, in a more aggressive tone, with eyebrows still raised and eyes widened. Steve found my expression entertaining, and smiled playfully in response

“Yeah. The ladies,” he affirmed. “One girl in particular, actually. She’s about Y/n’s height. Works with Miss Byers at Melvald’s. I think you know her?”

“She sounds like a real catch,” I exclaimed, whilst smiling proudly.

“Ehh,” Steve muttered, tilting his head from side to side. I pretended to be angry, and glared playfully at him. He returned the favour. “She’s alright. Never lets me kiss her, though. And her family members are a little weird.”

“Is that so?” I asked dramatically, crossing my arms in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh yeah,” he answered, a bit too quickly for my likings. “She has this little brother-”

Before we could keep playing the little act we found ourselves playing, Dustin cut in. Only then did we realise how confused the poor kid must have been, and how horrible of a job we were doing in easing him into the news. Perhaps the bandaid approach was our only option.

“What’s going on? Am I missing something?”

“We... We have to tell you something,” Steve explained, before nodding towards me. Once Dustin turned to face me, I took a deep breath before beginning. 

“Buddy,” I murmured, causing Dustin to immediately groan as though he were in excruciating pain. “What?”

“You only call me buddy when you tell me bad news,” he said, and just like that his expression was completely drained of all the joy and enthusiasm he was initially overflowed with after his reunion with Steve. “So, what is it this time? Are you moving away? Is Steve terminally ill? Did you two go on a date while I was away?”

I suppose for a kid who grew up playing DnD, we should have anticipated he would be great at figuring out what people are gonna do or say next. When Steve and I remained silent, Dustin’s jaw dropped.

“You guys went on a date while I was away?!”

“No,” Steve answered defensively, trying to get Dustin to calm down. “I’ve taken her out on at least 7 dates while you were away.”

I lifted my hand up to my face and sighed. Robin did the same, having been able to see and hear everything that was happening. 

“WHAT?!”

“Dusty, calm down,” I said softly, placing my hand on his shoulder, less in an attempt to soothe him and more as a precautionary measure in case he stood up to do something. 

“My sister, Steve?... Really? Of all the girls in this fucking town, you decide to go for my sister.”

“Hey,” I cried out in offence.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” Dustin says, frustrated. “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Y/n, you sent me two whole letters while I was away... You didn’t think the fact that you and Steve were sucking faces is something important to note in?”

“I knew you’d react like this,” I explained calmly, trying to mellow down the mood of our conversation. 

“Because everything is changing,” he cried. I glanced over at Steve briefly, and he looked just as gutted as I was. After taking yet another deep breath, I wrapped my arm around Dustin’s shoulder.

“Look, Dusty, I get that a lot of things are changing,” I began. “But change doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve chimed in. “And just because Y/n and I are- I don’t wanna say sucking faces.”

“Yeah, please don’t,” I warned.

“Just because we’re going out, doesn’t mean anything else is gonna change too,” he explained. “Y/n’s still gonna be your sister, and I’ll still be here for you whenever you need. If anything, things are changing for the better.”

I had to hand it to him. Steve would make a great mom.

“I guess it is pretty cool that you guys are sucking faces.”

“-Again, I do not like that phrase,” I muttered, making both of them chuckle.

“And I s’pose if anyone’s gonna date my sister, I’m glad it’s you, Steve, and not someone like... Like that guy you were talking about before- Matt Lewinsky.”

“Right?! That guy is so lame. Spent all of last season on the bench.”

“Okay, moving on,” I said, as I rolled my eyes. I had heard enough of Steve’s complaints about Lewinsky to last a lifetime. I was not about to sit and listen to another one. “Are you okay now, Dust? Are we good?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, before reaching for the rest of his banana split. “Just... Don’t... do couple stuff in front of me. I’m cool with you two dating, but that doesn’t mean I’m not weirded out by it.”

“So, you’re saying it’d be weird for you if I did this?”

As Dustin leaned over to finish his banana split, Steve stood up as much as he could, and leaned towards me, pecking my lips quickly, but long enough for my little brother to squirm. I giggled, both amused by Steve’s antics and relieved that our relationship was out in the open now.

“I finally got my fucking kiss,” Steve stated proudly, completely unbothered by how very visibly bothered Dustin was. 

Deep down, we both knew the kid was happy that of all the teenagers falling in love this summer, his sister and the guy he looked up to did so with one another.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #335

“on my forehead, a birthmark  /  remove it with the kiss of a knife  /  even if it causes me to die”

Do you recover well from surgery? Judging by the two surgeries I've had, oh yeah. I was hyper as hell when I came home from getting tubes put in my ears as a little kid, even though the doctor said I'd be very sleepy. Then, after my cyst removal, I was put on very strong painkillers but was still warned it was going to be a painful recovery, when it totally wasn't. I literally only took painkillers the first day. What addictions have you had? Caffeine, technology. Would you change your name if you became famous? Nah. If Cupid were real, would you hire him to make someone love you? No. I don't want somebody forced to love me. Ever been to an auction? No. Which word(s) do you generally use to describe someone attractive? (e.g. “fit”, “sexy”) It kinda varies with gender. Women I tend to call "beautiful" or "gorgeous," sometimes "hot" or "cute," while men I usually refer to as "handsome" or "hot"/"sexy." The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? She's a bit younger. When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? Hm. I dunno. I have a hard time saying "no," so. When was the last time you had Pop Tarts? What flavour were they? Many months ago; I kinda stopped eating them because they're truly not filling and just a load of sugar that veils itself as an actual breakfast choice. But anyway, I liked the chocolate sundae ones. Have you ever felt a temperature below 0? No. Did you ever play Spyro? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! SPYRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those games were my CHILDHOOD, and it's half the reason I'm dying for a PS4 to play the remastered trilogy. Speaking of which, it'd be awesome if they remade the The Legend of Spyro trilogy as well. I might just like those games more than the originals, but that's a bold statement I'm unsure about. Have you ever dated someone who was of a foreign origin? I dated a Hispanic guy for less than a day. Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? Ozzy Osbourne's, yes. I'm just fucking waiting for Mark to write one, but he's always said he has so little interest in writing about his life. DO IT, YOU FUCK. Do you own any succulents? No. I think they're pretty, though. Do you have a drone? No. What’s your favorite Netflix series? *shrug* What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Summertime. The heat, the humidity (at least here), the sunburn from just standing outside for ten minutes... I hate all of it. The ONLY two things I enjoy about summer is swimming and then flowers, though spring is the more floral season here anyway. Do you have revenge fantasies that you never actually play out? They've... happened. Did your first real significant other change you at all? Pretty sure forever. Are you waiting to have sex until you’re married? Once upon a time, that was the plan. Now, nah. I'd just want to be in a healthy, stable, and long-term relationship. What do you think about divorce? It's sad, but necessary for some people in order to be happy, which everyone has the right to be. I used to be very firmly against divorce except in extreme cases like abuse, etc., and I'm still definitely no fan of it and think couples should do their best to work things out, but it's incredibly unfair to believe that someone should be stuck for the rest of their life with a person they just don't love anymore. Getting married can be a mistake; don't damn people forever to be chained to their bad decisions. Do you remember the first time your heart broke? What was the reason? It was probably when Dad just abandoned us. What's the worst prank someone has ever done to you? I don't think anyone's ever pulled a sick joke on me. Have you ever seen someone sleepwalk? Yes; my little sister deadass tried to walk outside late at night. Thank God I was on the computer in the living room and stopped her. What song are you listening to right now? I just turned "Mutter" by Rammstein on. When is the last time you cursed? I'm not re-reading, but I have probably cursed fifty times in this survey already. It's so deeply ingrained into my vocabulary. Are there any words on your shirt? No; it's just a plain gray tank top. Why do you forward forwards? I never do because they annoy the fuck out of me. How many people are you interested in at the moment? Just one in a healthy and logical way. I can't be truly interested in Jason because like come on I haven't spoken to him in four whole years. My PTSD just ensures I never forget the memory of who he was, who probably no longer even exists. I mean, look how much I'VE changed in four years. Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Nnnnope. Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Apart from family, I have no idea. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Venus never does, but Roman can get on my nerves sometimes when I don't let him lay on me when I'm on the laptop in bed. He's a large cat (not overweight, just a big male cat) and blocks the screen big time unless he lies down properly, which he doesn't always do. He still tends to win when he tries to come over, but sometimes I'll block him with my arm, and this spoiled brat will actually slap it a few times before walking away lmao. Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Absolutely a pool. I want one badly. Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Especially lately, I don't get nearly enough. Like at the time I'm answering this question, it's 4 AM, and I've been up for almost a couple hours. I struggle with falling asleep, I will ALWAYS wake up at least once in the night, and I jerk awake from nightmares regularly still. It's a big reason why I pretty much require naps. Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We only have an attic. Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? No. I'm way too timid of a driver to get that outwardly pissy about stupid people. I'd just judge them in silence, haha. What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? Because of just how common they are, I'm going to assume this excludes birds, in which case it was probably a squirrel? Yeah, the normal brown ones are common. Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Since I was fucking stupid enough to post a suicide note on Facebook (I don't want to hear a goddamn thing about "attention seeking," I genuinely wanted to say goodbye), I almost never, ever, share things about my personal life. Even before, it was rare for me to actually share what's going on with me. All I really do now is share relatable, wholesome, or funny shit I find, as well as political things I'm in firm agreement with. What are some habits you have in common with your parents? I pace like my dad, and it drives people crazy because it apparently makes them anxious? I can't think of an obvious one I have with Mom, but I'm sure one exists. Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? I feel safest and most clean in a pool, but c'mon, swimming in the ocean is so much fun. When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? It depends on the book, it seems. Especially if someone else owns it, like in school or something. Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? My legs always hurt. I've shared enough as to why; it wasn't an actual, singular "incident." What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? OH MY FUCKING GOD. So in group therapy the other day, one of the girls had her bearded dragon out, and he was being aggressive. I think he tried to bite her aND SHE SAID WITHOUT REALIZING HER MIC WAS ON, "fucking dickhead," and everyone d i e d. She's a really cool chick, I'll miss her when I'm finished with PHP. Who was the last person you heard sing? Myself, surprisingly enough. I barely ever sing. Do you bite your lips a lot? Yes, especially when they're dry. .-. What part of your body would you never get pierced? Anyone who gets a piercing "down there" has a greater pain tolerance than this bitch right here. Have you ever dated someone with tattoos? Juan had quite a few. I don't remember if Tyler did... but I think maybe a The Legend of Zelda-related one? Have you ever failed gym in school? No. Are you scared of dogs? No; I love dogs. What is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Man, idk, I'm a little bitch when it comes to emotional movies. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is high up there, as is of course Johnny Got His Gun. Old Yeller, too. Which one of your friends is most likely to be famous one day? Why? Sara's gonna write a fuckin book series ok you can't convince me otherwise. What is the worst present you have ever gotten? Damn dude, what an ungrateful question. I'm just appreciative someone even thought TO give me something. Do you shave your arms? My armpits, yes, but not my arms themselves. How many people have you dated? I only count three as even remotely serious: Jason, Sara, and Girt. Have you ever performed in a play? I remember back in Sunday school as a tiny kid I played Mother Mary in one we did in class. Do you chew gum? I have been more lately since my doc upped the dosage of one of my mood stabilizers (which I think is actually helping); I mention that because apparently a side effect is dry mouth, and it's the fucking Sahara in there. He advises those who deal with it to always carry around hard candy or something like that for the sake of forcing salivation, so gum works for me. How old were you when you first started dating? I was in the 7th grade when I had my first "boyfriend," but it was total puppydog love. I started dating my first "real" bf when I was just shy of 16. Are/were your parents strict? Dad, no. Mom, only to a degree that I feel was pretty reasonable. She only ever wanted to prepare us to be functional, independent adults. Didn't work so well on me though, ha... Do you wear glasses? Yes. God, I need new ones. I'm blind as hell. What do you miss most about your childhood? Being so outgoing and happy to just be weird lil me. Do you write “To-Do” lists? Not really, no, but I do have notes on my phone about a couple things, like a bulleted list of planned monetary investments by importance, as well as a list of drawing ideas. Do you have a favorite quote? What is it? I don't, really. There's loads I like, but no one favorite. Could you survive as a vegetarian? I pretty desperately want to, but I don't know if it's realistic. I am so, SO picky, and without meat, it's very questionable as to where I'd get an adequate source of protein. I still want to try again though once I'm at my goal weight. Has anyone ever asked you for your autograph? Lol no. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yeah, but that was a looong time ago when I was actually some semblance of pretty. Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? I used to be someone who firmly stood by nighttime showers, but now I'm all about them in the morning. It's a nice way to wake up and start the day with productivity. Could you handle living with a male roommate? I mean, I lived with my then-boyfriend once, but I'm going to assume you'd consider him more than a "roommate." We lived with our two other friends, though, also a couple, and I was totally fine with living with them. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes. Do you like Freddy Krueger? His concept is very scary, but all the movies I've seen bits of have always been super cheesy. Which do you prefer, Naruto or One Piece? I haven't seen either and really aren't interested. What do you think of Rob Zombie? I've never really watched his movies, but I'm a fan of his music. What’s you fetish? I don't have one. Have you ever been in the “friend zone?" Well, what I'd call a "fake" one with Jason after the breakup until I was blocked on Facebook. I know now he absolutely did not want to be friends; he was trying to appease me. Is the area you live in more liberal or conservative? Definitely conservative. Do you know anyone who had to have tubes put in their ears as a baby? Yeah, me. Were either of your parents baptized? I'm certain Mom was, but idk about Dad. I think so. The last concert that you were at, was there a mosh pit? No. What was the last computer game that you played? World of Warcraft. Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No. Are any rooms in your house themed? No. What was the last thing that you recorded? I think Mom and I singing "happy birthday" to my late dog Teddy; we knew it would be his last. Do you like the show Futurama? Not really. Have you ever been in a choir class? I was in the elementary school chorus, as well as the choir at my childhood church. Are you ashamed of any of your family members? No, only myself. Were you a chubby child? No. Did you ever have senior photos done? No, even though I wanted them. Who is the person you dislike the most? God, this is so petty... but it's the girl Jason dated after me. I know it's childish as hell to feel like she "took" him from me, and I just feel this horrible hatred towards her that is entirely uncalled for. I just can't get myself to move past it. Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? No, as I'm unemployed and also don't have disability, so I literally can't. How do you usually celebrate New Years? I really don't do much. Sometimes Mom will grab a pack of daiquiris, but that's pretty much the extent of it. Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? N/A What was the last job interview you went to? At a local grocery store to work in the deli. Got the job, lasted there for not even two hours. :^) Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Autism and mood disorders, yes. I myself may have high-functioning Asperger's (yes, I know that term doesn't technically exist anymore, it's just the umbrella term of "autism," but w/e). Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? My grandmother died of pancreatic cancer, and it's pretty much guaranteed that, unless there's some sudden accident, my mom will die of cancer, too. Hers got too bad to entirely eliminate every trace of cancer cells, so it will inevitably re-emerge at some point, just obviously some place else given that she had a total hysterectomy. Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? Office. Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? I enjoy all of those, but sour I think tops the list.