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wintrcaptn · 5 years ago

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Forbidden Ch. 2 | Andy Barber

Summary : Summary : You used to babysit Jacob when he was younger and had the biggest crush on his dad, Andy. But being in High school at the time, you knew it was just a stupid fantasy that could never happen. Now, six years later, you were visiting your hometown while on winter break. Once you found out the news about Jacob, you knew you had to go check up on them. But things take a turn when you find yourself alone with Andy Barber.

Part One

A/N : I wasn’t planning on making a second part for this fic, until now. Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope you like this one just as much (:

You barely slept last night, all you could think about was the kiss. About the way Andy held you close to him, and how his tongue danced along yours.

It was driving you crazy, wishing you could taste him again. To feel him.

But you also couldn’t help feeling horrible. Like the worse person in the world. And it didn’t help that you were seeing him again in just a few hours.

It was beginning to make you nervous. To the point where you almost wanted to cancel and forget the whole thing.

But you knew you couldn’t do that to Jacob.

Staring at your reflection, you let out a long sigh.

“It’s just one more night.” You said to yourself.

____

Pulling up to the Barber’s house, you were washed over with guilt and filled with anxiety. Not knowing how this was going to play out, made it even worse.

What if Laurie found out?

What if Andy regretted kissing you?

A thousand questions flooded your mind and it was starting to freak you out.

Jacob saw your car through his blinds and immediately ran downstairs. Excitement plastered over his face. It caught Andy’s attention.

“You okay there, buddy?” He asked, flipping through the channels on the tv.

“Y-yeah.” Jacob said, walking over to the door. “Y/N’s here.”

The second your name fell from his sons lips, Andy stood up and shot his gaze to the window.

You saw the door swing open, and Jacob stood in the door way with a cheeky grin. And just then, you knew you had to suck it up and focus on being there for him.

“Hey!” You said, climbing out of your car.

“Hi!” He exclaimed.

Andy tensed up the closer you got. Part of him felt guilty for what happened, and especially for wanting to kiss you again.

This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a cheater, someone who would go behind his wife’s back and betray her trust. He hated himself for letting it get to this. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted you.

As you walked into the house, you tried hard to only focus on Jacob. But in the corner of your eye, you saw his figure. Suddenly, your gaze met his and instantly, your breath hitched.

“H-Hi.” He said, hesitantly walking over to you.

You swallowed hard, but found some courage in you to snap out of the daze and collect yourself. “Hi.” You replied.

“So I was thinking we can order pizza and put on a movie or something while I set up the game? Like old times?” Jacob muttered, looking at you then back to his dad. “You’re going to play too, right?”

“Um—if Y/N is okay with it.”

Both of the Barber boys turned their gaze on you, putting you on the spot.

“Of course I’m okay with it.” You said. “Is Mrs. Barber joining us or—?”

“No, she had some errands to do.” Jacob interrupted you. “She said she’ll be home later though.”

You could tell something was off. The second day in a row, and they weren’t together? This wasn’t like them.

For as long as you could remember, they made every effort to be together.

“I’ll get the game. Dad, can you order the pizza?” Jacob’s voice snapped you back to the moment.

But before either of you could respond, Jacob turned around and ran up the stairs, leaving you alone with Andy.

You hesitantly looked over to him, and his eyes were already on you.

It was crazy how much power a stare held over you. It made your heart pound erratically, and it was hard to think straight.

The silence was driving him crazy. He wanted to know—needed to know what you were thinking. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can we talk about—you know.” He whispered, walking over to you.

Each step he made, growing closer to you, things were beginning to feel hotter and constricting.

“Th-there’s nothing to t-talk about, Mr. Barber—“

“Andy.” He cut you off, now standing just right in front of you. His eyes looking longingly into yours, almost as if he were searching for something. “Please, call me Andy.”

You swallowed hard. “Andy, please. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

“I can’t. I tried, but I can’t stop thinking about it, about you. And—and I don’t think I want to stop.”

As you opened your mouth, you were instantly silenced after the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

Andy cleared his throat and quickly walked back toward the kitchen, pulling out his phone to order the pizza.

Finally, you were able to let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Okay, I got monopoly and Pictionary Incase mom comes home early.” Jacob smiled.

“Perfect.”

After a few hours, the three of you filled yourselves with pizza and soda, while playing the game.

Sitting there with you and Jacob, watching the way you both laughed and talked, it was invigorating. In this very moment, Andy watched his son be a kid again and that’s all he ever wanted.

Everything felt normal. Like how it used to be. Before it all went to shit.

You all talked like no time has passed. Cracking jokes, and teaming up with Jacob, buying all the properties so Andy had to pay.

It was perfect.

“So did you ever finish reading the Harry Potter series?” You asked, rolling the dice.

Jacob nodded, flashing a smile as he remembered how much you used to love those books.

“Yea. They were good. Still not my favorite but—“

“Not your favorite?! Dude, Harry Potter is amazing and it has everything!”

Andy listened to you both go back and forth, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Ok well how about the next time in town, we have a Harry Potter movie marathon? I’m sure those will change your mind.”

“Fine!”

Laurie finally came home around seven. She looked even more exhausted than yesterday, and a little upset.

She said a soft hello, gave Jacob a kiss on the head and went straight upstairs, barely giving Andy a glance.

Then suddenly, it was back to reality.

Though you were able to distract Jacob for a bit, nothing could make him forget the truth. And for that, he needed some time to himself.

“I-I’m getting tired, so I think I’m going to lay down for awhile.” He said, propping up to his feet. “Thanks for coming over. I had fun. Maybe we can do it again soon?”

You flashed him a soft smile, and nodded before pulling him in for a hug. “Yeah, definitely.”

And just like that, he ran up to his room, leaving you alone with Andy. Again.

Andy sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair. Tired, upset, confused. There were too many different emotions running through him, it was starting to become overwhelming.

You decided to clean up the mess before leaving.

“Y-you dont have to do that.” He said, gazing at you.

“It’s okay. It’s the least I could do since you fed me the past two days.” You chuckled.

He chuckled along with you, and helped with the dishes. Not another word but glances were shared.

And every time you looked at him, the more you yearned to feel him. But you knew you shouldn’t.

He leaned against the counter once everything had been cleaned. His arms crossed over his chest.

There had only been one constant thing roaming through his mind; He can't be having feelings for another woman. He just can't.

But no matter how hard he tries to push his feelings aside, he couldnt. It wasn’t making any sense. Why couldn’t he shake this? Why couldn’t he let this go?

Before he had time to process anything, something overcame him and suddenly it all came out like word vomit.

“These past few weeks have been shit.” He said, staring at his feet. “And I have been losing my mind over everything that’s been going on until—“

Andy paused, meeting your gaze. “You showed up out of nowhere and—I don’t know.”

You weren’t sure what to do or say but stand there.

“It’s like I’ve been drowning, and kissing you—kissing you was like coming up for fresh air. I was able to breathe again.”

Every word that fell from his lips only made you want him more. Not only physically, not just feeling him or tasting him, you wanted him. All of him.

And he wanted you.

How did this even happen? You hadn’t seen each other in years and after a day, it was instant. Like it had come out of a movie.

He slowly started towards you, and the way he locked his gaze on you, it was almost as if he hungered for you.

Your breath hitched to the back of your throat, scared to move a single muscle.

“Just tell me to stop, and I’ll let this go.” His voice was low, almost like a growl and it only made you want him more.

Without realizing, he stood just inches in front of you, towering over you. Forcing you to crank your neck up so you could gaze into him.

You slightly opened your mouth, knowing you should say no, but no words came out.

The silence was all he needed, and suddenly, his rough hands cupped the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours.

Everything felt still like time had froze. And you were lost in the moment. Lost in his kiss, quickly motioning back and caving into him.

Soft grunts escaped him as he deepened this kiss, while his hands slid down to your waist. Without thinking, he lifted you off the ground, and your legs wrapped around him.

Andy could feel himself grow harder by the second. Yearning to feel more of you. All of you.

Your fingers were deep in His hair as your lips molded against his. You were both so caught up in each other, taking every second in.

He sat you on the counter, and swiftly took off his shirt, exposing his bare chest.

Your fingers traced over him, making its way down to the button of his jeans.

Feeling you getting closer to his already hard shaft, made him shiver under your touch. And damn, he wanted you.

His lips never left yours, sucking, biting and tugging at your bottom lip, forcing soft moans out of you.

The kiss had been everything you ever dreamt of. Possibly even better.

You were so drenched, you knew your panties had been soaked completely. But you could care less.

You could feel yourself pulsate between your legs where he stood. Your body yearned to feel him. To feel all of him, inside of you.

Andy could sense just how badly you wanted him. It turned him on even more, ready to give in and pound into you. He kissed you harder, showing you that he wanted you just as badly.

Everything moved so quickly, you almost didn’t realize you were both unbuttoning your shirt and with your next breath, Andy pulled the shirt off of you.

You were both lost in each other. Lost in the moment, caving into one another.

His lips began traveling down to your neck. His grazed his tongue over your skin just before he his teeth pressed into you and forced another moan out of you.

He loved hearing you. It made his dick twitch under his boxers, begging to be inside of you.

Until...

“Dad, can you bring up a glass of water for me?” Jacob asked, leaning over the railing of the stairs.

“Y-Yeah buddy. I’ll be right there.” He called out.

Andy swallowed hard as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, while you both breathed heavily.

You mirrored his actions and slipped your shirt back on. Feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

This was wrong on so many levels. You were slowly falling for a guy who was older than you and worst of all, married.

“I’m so sorry, this was a mistake.” You said, starting for the front door.

Andy was torn, knowing he should’ve never crossed the line, but it was too late. There was no turning back now. And though it wasn’t right, he didn’t want to go back.

And for that, he hated himself even more.

“Y/N wait, please.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, as a lump formed in your throat. This felt worse than a break up. Worse than anything you had been through which you weren’t sure as to why.

“We can’t do this Andy, you’re married.” You forced out. “Laurie is literally upstairs.”

He had forgotten that she was in the room. Being with you, was like having tunnel vision and all he could focus on was you.

“Fuck.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I doing?”

The tears had stained your cheeks and in that moment, you were broken.

“This was a mistake.” You repeated. “You’re just hurt and confused, this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” He cut you off. “This is bad timing, I know. But I’m not confused.”

You wanted nothing more than to believe him. But how could you with all things considered?

“Dammit.” You whispered to yourself. “I can’t do this.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and left without saying goodbye.

Andy knew letting himself feel this way to begin with was wrong. But why did it feel so good? Kissing you, holding you, feeling you pressed against him.

Being with you, he could finally breathe. It was like coming up for air.

——

Chapter Three sneak peek

Chapter Three

#chris evans #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers #marvel #cevans

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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(WLW anon) I really don’t like the “bad rep is better then none at all”. I hate that. We should want good rep, because bad rep has been used time and time again by homophobes as to say we shouldn’t get representation. To me it’s not “gay can have the same flaws as het”, it’s “fix the flaws in the het”. Also I know Renora being independent was a good, I was just saying in comparison BB. Also, yes, they were separated, but also didn’t stop thinking about each other. Especially bad with Yang.

Indulge me for a moment because I want to take a trip down memory lane and list some—just some—of the queer rep that has been important to me over the years:

Ellen comes out both as herself and as her character… years later, she’s a hated millionaire who is criticized for how she treats her staff

The wildly influential Buffy gives us two women entering a loving relationship… except then Tara is killed off, Willow goes evil for a time, and Buffy comes under fire for Joss Whedon’s everything

The beloved and respectable headmaster of one of the most popular book series ever published is revealed to be gay… except it doesn’t count because it wasn’t in the text and now all of Harry Potter is cancelled because JKR is transphobic

Kurt is an unambiguously gay teen in a hugely popular TV series, acting as one of the first overt representations a generation has seen… except he’s way too stereotypical and Glee is a joke now

Orange is the New Black gives us a number of queer women, including one of our first trans characters… but isn’t it problematic that they’re all criminals?

Brooklyn Nine-Nine hosts an out gay captain and gives us a bisexual coming out story that resonated with many, myself included… except now we’re supposed to hate all the characters on principle because they’re cops

Korra and Asami walk off into the spiritual sunset together… but they never kiss or anything, so that doesn’t count either

Steven Universe gives us a queer relationship and a wedding… but it’s an issue that this is just a kid’s show and, really, does it count when the rep is embodied by space rocks whose entire species only creates a single gender? Feels like a cop-out

Same with Good Omens. Yeah, Crowley and Aziraphale clearly love each other… but you never see them kiss or declare their intentions. It’s great ace rep though! Unless you want to level the criticism that asexual characters are always nonhuman

A character intended to be a minor guest becomes a show staple and eventually declares his love for one of the two main characters… except then Castiel immediately dies, Dean doesn’t respond, and they never meet on screen again

I finished Queen’s Gambit the other day and the main character had a one-night stand with a woman! … but everyone is talking about how bisexuality is used to represent her lowest point, so that’s bad too

I could go on for literal pages. Some of these arguments I agree with (Dumbledore), others I’ve pushed back against quite strongly (Crowley and Aziraphale), but all of them are valid criticisms depending on what part of the queer community you’re in and what your expectations are. My point here is that it’s all “bad rep.” I mean that seriously. If anyone reading this is scrambling for the comment section to say why [insert media title here] is actually fantastic rep, I guarantee that someone disagrees. Or if they don’t, give it some time. Just wait until the characterization becomes offensively outdated, or another part of the story ruins the relationship, or it comes out that the author did something truly horrific, or the terminology changes and it’s labeled as “problematic” now… just wait. At some point, any rep we feel is good rep now will be criticized, cancelled, and dragged through the mud. The rep that I personally haven’t seen much push-back against—like the beloved Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who, or Schitts Creek that just won a ton of awards—is wrapped up in the criticism, “So it’s all just about able-bodied, cis, (mostly) white dudes, huh? :/” Even the argument that queer characters need to be written by queer authors doesn’t hold up. I absolutely adored Sense8. “Wow, a gay main character in a loving relationship with another gay man, both of whom enter a loving poly relationship with a woman, another lesbian trans main character who marries the love of her life on screen, an entire cast arguably queer due to them sharing orgy scenes centered around the emotional intimacy they share, everyone survives, and this was written by two trans women! Great, right?” Well, not according to the wealth of opinions explaining how Sense8 is horrible rep, actually. Every piece of rep we’ve got is either currently flawed or will become flawed in the future.

So what do we do with that?

That’s where my “I’d rather have bad rep than no rep at all” comes in. For me, that’s not waving the white flag. That’s not an oath that I won’t expect better rep in the future (I do) or that I won’t criticize the rep we get (BOY DO I), but rather just an acknowledgement of reality. The vast majority—if not the entirety—of rep is “bad rep” in one way or another, but I’d still rather have it than nothing at all. Because I’ve lived just long enough and studied media just enough to know what nothing looked like. It was watching all queer characters meet untimely deaths. Before that it was watching queer characters be derided and treated as jokes. Before that it was nothing but coding, where queer characters didn’t exist except in our own headcanons and interpretations. Obviously “bad rep” covers a very large range of issues and “They haven’t even confirmed this relationship yet” is a bigger issue than “This queer character embodies one or two, mild stereotypes,” but ultimately I’d take any of it over nothing at all. And enjoying what we’ve currently got doesn’t mean I’m willing to settle for it indefinitely.

To use an iffy analogy, imagine there’s a factory. This factory makes plates. So. Many. Plates. Big plates, small plates, plain plates, decorative plates, plates for every possible occasion in your life—and everyone with a steak for dinner is pleased as punch. You though? You’ve got soup. You need a bowl. Your entire life you’ve been struggling to eat your soup off a plate (it doesn’t work) and listening to friends and family claim that the plate with a slightly raised edge could be a bowl if you squint (it’s not). To say it’s frustrating is an understatement.

But then, one day, the factory starts producing bowls too. Hurray! Except as soon as you get your hands on one, you’re told you really shouldn’t be using it, let alone praising it. Look at the state of that bowl! It’s cracked right down the middle, ugly as hell, shoddily made all around… you’re not really going to settle for that, are you? And no, you obviously still want the factory to produce better bowls, but at the same time, this is a bowl. You’ve never gotten one before and you can finally enjoy your meal, even if the soup leaks at times. Sometimes a lot. But you’re still feeling better about your meal than you ever have before. And what you then begin to realize is that lots of the plates are a mess too. They also have cracks, they’re also ugly, many are also shoddily made. The difference is that the factory is producing so many plates at such a rapid pace that every steak eater is able to get by. One plate breaks completely? You’ve got a thousand fallbacks. Don’t like the look of this one? A thousand other options. You disagree about what “shoddily made” means? Luckily there are enough plates that everyone can find what they prefer! But the bowls… there’s only a few. Some are really expensive. Others are only available for a limited time before they suddenly disappear. Your bowl breaks and you have to wait months, years sometimes, to get another one. You’re constantly told to go buy this one obscure bowl no one else has heard about and yeah, you like it... but you’d also like to buy one of the bowls everyone is already enjoying. You find yourself looking at the plates and thinking, “I’d like that. I’d like to have so many options that the flaws, while still a problem, are much more bearable.” You’re still going to demand that the factory get its shit together, you’re still going to (rightly) complain about the awful quality of your bowl… but it’s still nice to have a bowl, period. There are still things you like about it, even if it’s a mess: the color, the size, the beauty of the shape of it. Its potential. You’re still pleased you have something to enjoy and that helps serve the need you’re looking to fill, even if that something is imperfect.

That’s “bad rep is better than no rep.” To bring this very long response back to Blake/Yang, I don’t think their problems negate their benefits. Is their relationship currently non-canonical and filled with a number of writing issues everyone has a right to be angry about? Yup. I express that anger a great deal. Are they still half of a team on a very popular show that is (presumably) set to be canonized as queer? Yup. I’d much rather live in a world where big shows like RWBY try to include queer rep and fail in a multitude of ways—with the expectation and hope that they’ll continue to improve—rather than in a world where authors a) don’t care or b) are too scared to try. Because that’s where a “good rep or no rep” stance leads. The danger isn’t homophobes because they’re, well, homophobes. It doesn’t matter if the rep is good or not, they hate it on principle. But if queer authors writing for other queer identities, or allies writing queer identities, or even queer authors writing their own experiences (like in Sense8) continually come under non-stop fire for their attempts… there’s a good chance that many people won’t ever try. We’re already seeing that here on tumblr with young authors admitting that they wouldn’t touch [insert topic here] with a ten-foot pole because just look at what happens when you get it wrong. And authors will get things wrong because authors are fallible people forever unlearning their own ignorance. So though it might sound strange coming from a blog that has turned into such a RWBY critical space, I am glad that RWBY’s queer rep exists, despite all the frustrations that I share about it. I think a RWBY with various types of “bad” queer rep is better than a RWBY with no queer rep at all, particularly when “bad” or “good” is so intensely subjective. There’s a middle ground between passively accepting whatever we’re given, and tearing into rep with such ferocity that we end up rejecting it all. There’s a space where we can be critical of rep and embrace the parts that work for us, simultaneously.

I hope and expect the het rep will get better too, but… that’s never going to happen instantly. To quote RWBY, there’s no magic wand we can wave to fix all our problems. Rather, it will take slow, plodding, meandering, lifetimes’ worth of work to see that change occur and I personally don’t want to spend the one life I have waiting for that perfect rep to show up. Because it’s unlikely that it will. While we work, I’d rather find the good in what rep we’ve already got.

#rwby #queer #mymetas #Anonymous

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societyofbadgers · 4 years ago

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J.K. Rowling and Transphobia

First, I must apologize for not posting this sooner. In the light of her recent transphobic tweets, I had to do a lot of self-evaluation before posting a word.

When I read Harry Potter at the age of 12, I feel in love with both Harry and its author. For many years if you asked me who I wanted to meet most in the world, I would say J.K. Rowling. I idolized her.

When she liked a few tweets awhile ago by transphobic people, I didn’t necessarily step up to defend her, but I didn’t “cancel” her either. I reasoned to myself that she probably didn’t realize the implications of liking the tweets, that everyone made mistakes, etc. She didn’t actually say anything transphobic herself, I didn’t think, so she just made a mistake. We’re all human. It happens.

But even then, I had niggling doubt. If it was an ignorant mistake, why didn’t she come out and apologize? Why didn’t she read and acknowledge her fan’s concerns and apologize to them?

And now, I’m here. I have made excuse after excuse for her behavior up until now, but I can’t ignore it any longer. My high opinion of her has collapsed.

The easiest thing to do is to say, “death to the author”. To love Harry Potter with all of your heart, but disavow J.K. Rowling. But that’s the problem with fiction - it’s a product of the author, of the author’s thoughts and values, whether it’s done consciously or unconsciously. And Harry Potter reflects that. It is liberal - to a point. Muggle-borns and half-bloods are stand-ins for minorities, but this avoids actual meaningful diversity. There are very few black people in the series, and the only Asian character doesn’t even have a culturally appropriate name. LGBTQ+ characters are nonexistent. She made some strides after the book came out, revealing Dumbledore to be gay, accepting a black Hermione, etc., but these were not a part of the original books. In the past, I’ve excused this because she wrote the series in the 90s, when issues like this were less explored in fiction. But the fact of the matter is, the books series lacks.

One thing I’ve long been disturbed by is the fact that house-elf slavery is played off as a joke most of the time. By the end of the series, this issue isn’t really solved, and there’s not much of a hint that it will be solved in the future. Recently, I was enlightened that goblins are essentially an anti-semitic, stereotypical portrayal of Jewish people - they are greedy, money-hoarding, short, oppressed creatures that you shouldn’t trust. (The only notable goblin, Griphook, betrays Harry.) Whether this was done consciously or unconsciously, I don’t know, but it was done. By the end of the series, Harry isn’t fighting for a new, better world after Voldemort, he’s fighting for a return to the status quo.

The books cannot be fully divorced from J.K. Rowling as much as we’d like to pretend. She created them. But then how do we move on? Because I have invested too much of myself in the book series. I’ve been running this Hufflepuff blog for years. I am currently the president of the Harry Potter fan organization at my college. Every summer I help run a Harry Potter camp for little kids. I discovered one of my favorite hobbies - writing - by starting with Harry Potter fanfiction when I was 13. And quite a few of my friendships were initially forged through a common love of Harry Potter. How can I toss something aside when it’s been such a huge part of my life?

As someone with a Hufflepuff blog with a decent following and as a leader of a club, I know I have a platform to say something. But I’m struggling to say something that would be meaningful and put-together when I feel so lost myself.

So, I will say this - whether you chose to burn the books or continue to cherish them, that is your own decision. I think everyone has their own decision to make that is personal to their own experiences. But one thing Harry Potter has created is this beautiful community. This community includes transgender people, non-binary people, and more, and I will defend them a hundred times over rather than defend J.K. Rowling. As Harry Potter fans, it is our job to stand up for our trans members within our community.

I hope you will stand tall with me in defending our community against the bigotry and ignorance of J.K. Rowling and creating a place that is inclusive for our trans community. I don’t want any trans Harry Potter-lover to feel excluded by the HP fandom, and I will attack anyone who thinks they don’t belong.

Oh, and - trans women are women. I hoped that would be common sense and straightforward, but apparently it isn’t. But there it is, loud and clear, in case anyone was confused. (By the way, J.K. Rowling - trans women are not “confused” or being pressured into changing their gender identity. They’re also not infringing on women’s spaces, because they ARE women.)

#j.k. rowling #Harry Potter #transgender #transphobia #tw: transphobia #lgbtq

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Written In The Stars CIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

Words: 4,144

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Better Me, Better You’ -Clara Mae & Jake Miller

Chapter Seven: Dolores Umbridge.

"First years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!" Professor Grubbly-Plank shouted over the noise.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I don't know, but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door," Ginny urged them.

"Oh yeah..."

"D'you think something happened while he was out?" Mel asked as they moved forward.

Harry shrugged. Both of them momentarily forgot about what was going on between them as they continued to talk quietly about Hagrid and where he could possibly be. When they reached the carriage, Harry stopped and stared at it strangely.

"Where's Pig?" Ron arrived quickly after them.

"That Luna girl was carrying him," Harry replied, turning to look at him. "Where d'you reckon —"

"— Hagrid is? I dunno– He'd better be okay..."

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there!" Hermione appeared looking angry. "I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever... Where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny's got him," said Harry. "There she is..."

"Thanks! Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up..."

"I haven't got Pig yet!" Ron said, Mel and Harry decided to wait with him.

"What are those things, d'you reckon?" Harry asked them.

"What things?"

"Those horse —"

"Here you are," Luna handed back Pig. "He's a sweet little owl, isn't he?"

"Er... yeah... He's all right," said Ron reluctantly. "Well, come on then, let's get in... what were you saying, Harry?"

"I was saying, what are those horse things?"

"What horse things?"

"The horse things pulling the carriages!" said Harry.

Mel stared at the front part of the carriage, looking at... nothing.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about — look!"

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and wheeled him about so that he was face-to-face with the winged horse. Ron stared straight at it for a second, then looked back at Harry.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"At the — there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! It's right there in front — Can't... can't you see them?"

"See what?"

"Can't you see what's pulling the carriages?" He said worryingly.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?"

"I... yeah..."

"You don't look like you're okay," Mel frowned.

Harry just shook his head, looking more confused than ever.

"Shall we get in, then?" said Ron reluctantly.

"Yeah, yeah, go on..."

"It's all right," said Luna. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too."

"Can you?" Harry asked with concern.

"Oh yes. I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."

"Lovely..." Mel murmured.

"Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" asked Ginny once the carriage was moving. "What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?"

"I'll be quite glad if he has," said Luna. "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"

"Yes, he is!" They all replied.

"Erm... yes... he's very good," Hermione said quietly.

"Well, we think he's a bit of a joke in Ravenclaw," said Luna.

"You've got a rubbish sense of humour then," Ron growled.

Mel felt anxious about being back. Most of the students were staring at her like she could burst into flames at any moment. She heaved a sigh, the girl was used to saying it every year but now she really had to get a grip. She wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction to call her crazy, fickle, or whatever it was they deemed her to be. Ginny and Luna left to join their friends, when they sat down, Harry said grimly:

"He's not there."

"He can't have left," said Ron.

"Of course he hasn't," said Harry.

"You don't think he's... hurt, or anything, do you?" said Hermione.

"No."

"But where is he, then?"

"Maybe he's not back yet. You know — from his mission — the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore."

"Yeah... yeah, that'll be it," said Ron.

"Who's that?" Hermione questioned.

"It's that Umbridge woman!"

"Who?"

"She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!"

"Nice cardigan," Ron sniggered.

"She works for Fudge? What on earth's she doing here, then?"

"Dunno..."

"What d'you think she's doing?" Mel made a face. "Keeping an eye on my uncle, of course."

"No," Hermione gasped, "no, surely not..."

Professor McGonagall entered followed by a bunch of first-years. She remembered her first night there, and for some reason, that made her want to cry. She pushed it all deep inside just in time to listen to the hat's song:

In times of old when I was new And Hogwarts barely started...

The Hat continued on, until the last lines:

And we must unite inside her Or we'll crumble from within. I have told you, I have warned you... Let the Sorting now begin.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Hermione.

"Yes, indeed," said Nearly Headless Nick. "The hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels —"

Nearly Headless Nick interrupted himself when McGonagall stepped forward.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore, "welcome! To our old hands — welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

"Excellent," said Ron with relief.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked Nick. "About the hat giving warnings?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."

"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" said Ron.

"I beg your pardon?" said Nearly Headless Nick.

"How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?"

"I have no idea. Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?" said Harry. "Fat chance."

Mel scowled at him.

"If you ask me, judging people because of their house is stupid. The hat's right, it does nothing but divide us. What if we have different beliefs half-way through? Are we supposed to just ignore that and never change?"

"Sorry, but it was you who said you'd refuse to be in the same house as Malfoy," Harry replied in annoyance.

"I was a kid when I said that," She retorted in the same tone. "It's exactly that childish mindset what Erick and I have to–"

"Ah, Flint," Harry rolled his eyes. "Forgot we're not allowed to breathe too hard around him..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick, trying to break their argument. "Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."

"Only because you're terrified of him," said Ron.

"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins —"

"What blood? Surely you haven't still got — ?"

"It's a figure of speech! I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"

"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" said Hermione.

"Node iddum eentup sechew," Ron replied, his mouth full of food.

"Well done, Ron," Hermione scolded when Nick left in outrage.

"What? I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"

"Oh forget it," said the girl.

"Hem, hem."

The small voice made several heads turn, Dumbledore cut his speech and looked to his right.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Professor Umbridge in what had to be the most unsettling voice she'd ever heard, "for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Parvati whispered.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance," She let out all of that at once. "The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction..."

Mel knew right away where this was going. 'Careful instruction' meant putting a stop to whatever Dumbledore was doing according to Fudge's ideas. She hadn't thought about it before, but she wondered if she was about to have her private lessons cancelled.

Umbridge sat down once she finished. Dumbledore clapped, Mel was amazed at the patience he showed after such a clear speech of censorship.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," said Hermione sharing a grim look with Mel.

"You're not telling me you enjoyed it? That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable– It explained a lot."

"Did it?" said Harry in surprise. "Sounded like a load of waffle to me."

"Well, it certainly was a load of something..." Mel grumbled.

"There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle," said Hermione.

"Was there?" said Ron blankly.

"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"

"Well, what does that mean?"

"I'll tell you what it means. It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."

"We're no longer running on free will," Mel added, glaring at the short woman.

"Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!" Hermione gave a start.

"Oh yeah. Hey — hey you lot! Midgets!"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed over Mel's laughter.

"Well, they are, they're titchy..."

"I know, but you can't call them midgets... First years! This way, please!"

"It suits her, doesn't it?" Mel smirked. "Finally found where to use her bossy nature."

Harry chuckled, and she realized that once again they had been left alone. It was a dreadful walk, not so much because of him, but because people were once again staring. At some point, Harry grew tired of it.

"Fancy taking a short cut?"

"Merlin, yes."

It took them longer to get to their tower, but Harry finally found an opportunity to talk to her.

"I was stupid to think things would go back to normal," He said darkly. "I know how it must've looked– Emerged from the Triwizard maze clutching the body... claiming Voldemort was back... then refused to speak about it, gave the whole school enough time to tell their own versions."

"There's no point on sulking about it," Mel replied. "You know how they are– Wouldn't have mattered... they think you're desperate for attention and I'm a nutter, so what? I have more important things to– Shit! We forgot to ask Hermione what the password was!"

They were staring at the Fat Lady, who didn't react kindly to Mel's swearing.

"No password, no entrance."

"Guys, I know it!" Neville ran up to them happily. "Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once — Mimbulus mimbletonia!"

Once in the common room Mel spotted the twins pinning something up on the notice board, she marched up to them, not hearing the timid 'G'night' Harry mumbled to her.

"What's the matter? You look absolutely — oh for heaven's sake..."

Mel looked at the sign that Hermione had just noticed on the board.

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs

(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)

"Did you know about this?" Hermione asked her.

"Oh, yeah," Mel shrugged. "They told me their plans for this year..."

The girl decided not to mention she was also going to help them.

"They are the limit," said Hermione grimly, taking down the sign. "We'll have to talk to them, Ron."

"Why?"

"Because we're prefects! It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!" She huffed as they left the tower. "Anyway, what's up, Harry? You look really angry about something."

"Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who," said Ron.

"Oh, does he know?" Mel gave Hermione a knowing look.

"Lavender thinks so too," Hermione lamented.

"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry muttered.

"No. I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down on our throats, Harry, because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."

"...sorry," He mumbled embarrassingly.

"That's quite all right," Hermione continued in a steady voice. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year? About You-Know-Who. He said, 'His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust —' "

"How do you remember stuff like that?" asked Ron.

"I listen, Ron," said Hermione.

"So do I, but I still couldn't tell you exactly what —"

"The point is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months, and we've started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same — stand together, be united —"

"And Harry said it last night, if that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance."

"Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-House unity," said Hermione crossly. "As Mel said, not everyone is so terrible, just look at Erick!"

"You two can adore that conceited twat all you want– He has both of you wrapped around his finger!"

"If I were you, I'd shut my mouth before I seal it shut," Mel scowled. "You know I don't care about the bloody badge."

Just as if to prove the boys' point, a bunch of Ravenclaws caught sight of her and Harry and hurried away.

"Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that," said Harry sarcastically.

"Hush!" Mel snapped. "I'll prove you two wrong..."

"Listen, I don't care if you insist on living in little fairyland–"

"This has nothing to do with fairytales, you idiot!" She hissed at Harry as they entered the Great Hall.

"Well then, what's your plan? Going to hire little dwarfs to sing us songs about friendship like Lockhart did?"

"You'll have to eat your words by the end of the year– It'll be as if the articles mentioning me never existed, everyone will want to be my friend, you'll see... I know how to win people over now."

"Because you're so patient and polite?" He said with heavy sarcasm in his voice.

Mel was so angry she had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't yell at him in front of everyone. She refused to talk to him for the rest of the morning.

"Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman's staying," Harry commented as they sat down to have breakfast.

"Maybe..." said Hermione.

"What?"

"Well... maybe he didn't want to draw attention to Hagrid not being here."

"What d'you mean, draw attention to it? How could we not notice?"

"Harry!"

"Oh– Hi, Angelina."

"Hi, good summer? Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

"Nice one," Harry smiled.

"Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in."

"Okay," He said.

"I'd forgotten Wood had left," said Hermione. "I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?"

"I s'pose. He was a good Keeper..."

"Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?" said Ron.

Mel caught him staring eagerly at Harry and she knew at once he was planning to try out. She definitely wanted to see how that would play out.

"Look at today!" groaned Ron as McGonagall handed them their schedules. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snack boxes sorted..."

"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, arriving with George and sitting next to Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today! That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," said Fred. "You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?"

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George.

"Cheers," Ron pouted, "but I think I'll take the lessons."

"And speaking of your Skiving Snack boxes," said Hermione, "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor notice board."

"Says who?"

"Says me, and Ron."

"Leave me out of it."

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?"

"Fifth year's O.W.L. year," said George.

"So?"

"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw."

"Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to O.W.L.s," said George. "Tears and tantrums... Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint..."

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?"

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox Powder in his pyjamas."

"Oh yeah– I'd forgotten... Hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"

"Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our spirits up somehow– and the Lady here helped us a great deal, even if we insisted we didn't need it."

"Yeah... you got, what was it, three O.W.L.s each?" said Ron.

"Yep," said Fred. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year, now that we've got —" Mel noticed how Harry's eyes widened and George stumbled over his words. "— now that we've got our O.W.L.s. I mean, do we really need N.E.W.T.s? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

"We're not going to waste our last year here, though," said Fred. "We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from his joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, and then produce the products to fit the demand."

"I can't believe this is your last year," Mel pouted. "I can't imagine the school without you two..."

"Cheers Lady, you'll have us for a whole year before that happens!" George smiled.

"But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop? You're going to need all the ingredients and materials — and premises too, I suppose..." Hermione questioned.

Harry dropped his fork and dived down the table.

"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione. Mel gets it, she agreed to help us no questions asked."

Mel choked on her meal and grimaced, waiting for the blast.

"You're helping them?!" Hermione gasped.

"C'mon, George," Fred got up abruptly. "If we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology."

"I'm going to kill them..." Mel grumbled.

"Why would you do something like that, Mel? You know it's not allowed–"

"Well, 'Mione, because I broke my back for four years only to be merely considered for the prefect position! I think I deserve a break," She tried to sound as grumpy and serious as possible so Hermione would feel bad for her. It worked.

"What did that mean, though?" Hermione quickly diverted the subject. "'Ask us no questions...' Does that mean they've already got some gold to start a joke shop?"

"You know, I've been wondering about that," said Ron. "They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer, and I couldn't understand where they got the Galleons..."

Mel and Harry shared a look but she was still mad at him, so she did nothing.

"D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?" Harry asked, trying and succeeding as well as her in distracting the others.

"Oh yeah– Bound to be, isn't it? O.W.L.s are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice too, later this year, Bill told me. So you can choose what N.E.W.T.s you want to do next year."

"D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?"

"Not really," said Ron. "Except... well..."

"What?"

"Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror," said Ron.

"Yeah, it would," said Harry.

"But they're, like, the elite. You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?"

"I don't know," said Hermione. "I think I'd really like to do something worthwhile."

"An Auror's worthwhile!"

"Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I mean, if I could take S.P.E.W. further..."

"An Auror's not the elite, though," Mel had been talking about her future with Sirius and Emily during the summer, so she had everything planned. "You know who's the real deal? The Unspeakables. Those are really something..."

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror too..." Hermione commented.

"Thought you wanted to be a Magizoologist?" Ron raised a brow.

"She wanted to be all that," Harry said under his breath.

"I can be all of it," Mel brushed it off. "But Aurors are only good if they have the right intentions, like Tonks, Moody, or Kingsley. However, it would also mean working for the Minister, and that man–"

"The Unspeakables work for him too."

"Not really," She smiled. "All I know is that whatever I end up doing, it won't be under any stupid man's orders."

"Suit yourself," Ron shrugged. "That'll be hard to get, though."

"We'll see."

"Hello, Harry!"

It was Cho Chang and what was more, she was on her own again. This was most unusual: Cho was almost always surrounded by a gang of giggling girls; Harry remembered the agony of trying to get her by herself to ask her to the Yule Ball.

"Hi," said Harry.

Mel had to drown a very loud groan when she appeared.

"You got that stuff off, then?"

"Yeah– So did you... er... have a good summer?"

"Oh, it was all right, you know..."

"Is that a Tornados badge?" Ron asked abruptly. "You don't support them, do you?"

"Yeah, I do," said Cho.

"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" Ron insisted.

"I've supported them since I was six. Anyway... see you, Harry."

"You are so tactless!" Hermione exclaimed as Cho disappeared around the corner.

"Dunno 'Mione, Ron has his moments..." Mel said in amusement.

"I only asked her if —"

"Couldn't you tell she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?"

"So? She could've done, I wasn't stopping —"

"What on earth were you attacking her about her Quidditch team for?"

"Attacking? I wasn't attacking her, I was only —"

"Who cares if she supports the Tornados?"

"Oh, come on, half the people you see wearing those badges only bought them last season —"

"But what does it matter?"

"It means they're not real fans, they're just jumping on the bandwagon —"

"That's the bell," said Harry grumpily.

Mel got up quickly, accidentally hitting his shoulder. She didn't stop to say sorry.

It wasn't that she disliked Cho. She didn't, especially not after remembering she probably still thought Harry and her were a thing. However, the way Harry would react around her compared to the sulky comments he'd send her way, or the way he would dismiss her ideas, that was definitely a good reason to be mad. After all those years of friendship, he was going to favour another girl!

Well, two could play the same game.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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coolkidstable · 5 years ago

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quarantine Q&A

tagged by @notedgoon, thank you! 💙

are you staying home from school/work? yep! my school went entirely online in early march and i went home asap (would’ve been kicked out of the dorms soon enough anyway). i had two work study jobs this semester and since it’s part of financial aid, luckily i still got paid even though i could only work one of them remotely. ofc i planned on doing a co-op (full-time internship) in the fall and lately that’s seemed a bit hopeless due to hiring freezes, but i do have two upcoming interviews now so hope is not lost

if you are staying home, who’s there with you? my mom, dad, dog, and 3 cats! it’s mostly my mom since she’s been furloughed (as of last week), my dad is still considered an essential worker (in retail management). i love having my cats around tho 🥺

are you a homebody? when not in school, i live in a boring rural area that’s 3 hours from any major city, plus i don’t have a car and live too far to walk anywhere besides my neighborhood, so i am when i’m here anyway. but yeah the extent of me leaving the house now is to sit in the car while one parent grocery shops lmao

what movies have you watched recently? what shows have you watched recently? i was on an uncharacteristic netflix kick until last week, so i watched the to all the boys i’ve loved before sequel (meh) and rewatched the perks of being a wallflower for the first time in years (it was as great as i remembered). i also watched two one-season shows, i am not okay with this & the judgement (a thai netflix original). i also watched the latest season of the bold type with my mom. otherwise idk, i’ve thought of rewatching the harry potter movies

an event you were looking forward to that got cancelled? well i was supposed to see the bruins play the canes last weekend, but i’m more upset that my grandma didn’t get to go since it was meant to be her christmas present (she picked the game). otherwise i’m lucky enough that i got to go to all the spring concerts i really wanted to see (besides spanish love songs’ headline tour but i would’ve missed out on that anyway), so now i’m just nervous about sad summer fest, the stand atlantic/trash boat tour, the mcr reunion tour, and the 5sos fall tour 😬

what music are you listening to? i’ve been listening to a lot of the wonder years lately, plus the new 5sos album!

what are you reading? if i’m being completely real here, the most effective coping mechanism i’ve found for myself is to read harry potter fanfiction so.... various 100k+ fics lmao. idk if it’s bc it reminds me of my childhood or bc some of it resonates emotionally or something else. it’s also made me consider rereading the actual book series (but obligatory fuck jkr’s terf ass)

what are you doing for self care? kinda mentioned that above, otherwise i’ve just been trying to spend my time in ways that make me feel good even if it means not engaging much socially or losing sleep hours. in some ways that probably sounds like poor self care but i’ve felt better since i started doing that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ playing animal crossing has also been quite nice and it’s good to have that routine!

tagging @davidpastrnut @frankvatrano and anyone else who wants to do it 👁

#tagged

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honeyedhoseok · 6 years ago

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Don’t You Need Me?

Genre | Angst, Taehyung x Female reader, friends->lovers->friends? au

Word Count | 9.6K

Summary | “Send me back in time, to those nights when we had it all / Will this come out right?” Set 1 year into Y/N and Hongbins relationship; You and Taehyung timidly rekindle your friendship online and then in person when Taehyung moves less than fifteen minutes away–which leads to dinner, wine and a sensual moment that was never supposed to happen.

Warnings | Language, slight smut (dry humping), mentions of weed and alcohol

A/N | Here’s the next part of The V2 Series, a flashback that details the first time Y/N and Taehyung ever hooked up after breaking up in high school. Thanks @sleevelessparkjimin for being my plot coordinator & helping me soooo much with this, you’re the best :* Enjoy! <3

— Set 1 year into your relationship with Hongbin —

You stare at the blinking cursor on your screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard of your laptop, stomach twisted in nervousness. The feeling either stems from the venti caramel macchiato that you just chugged on an empty stomach—which has been known to leave you anxious and trembling on more than one occasion—or, more accurately, it may have something to do with the decision you are currently contemplating.

Your eyes graze over the home screen of your Facebook, where you stopped scrolling in awe at a status update from a former . . . friend.

Kim Taehyung is feeling accomplished—with Kim Eon Jin and 2 others.

Underneath is a picture of Taehyung in a graduation cap, his parents flanking him on either side mirroring his signature smile with ones of their own. Taehyung had a reason to feel proud—in high school he’d sworn he wasn’t going to go to college; he’d said it wasn’t for him, it was for people who had done better than him and who actually had a chance at surviving two more years of education.

Like you, he’d said. You’re smart. You should definitely go back to school, baby.

The nickname echoes in your head. You can still hear the soft tone of it, the way sometimes he’d caress your cheek when he said it, the way he’d whine the word when he wanted you to get off the couch and get him something to drink because he didn’t want to miss a minute of the game, the way he’d make it come out of your own mouth in a more wanton way when you two were—

This, you think, is why after you break up with someone, you should delete them from all social media. And if you were at all smart like Taehyung thought you were, you would have done it a long time ago. Because then you wouldn’t be thinking of sending a congratulatory message to a person you hadn’t spoken to in over two years.

It could be simple, right? Just a “congrats,” nothing else. That wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

Your fingers jump over the keyboard, itching to write the message and get it over with, so you place your hands under your legs. You glance around at the Starbucks cafe, trying to catch any suspicious eyes averting to yours, wondering why you are concentrating so hard on the tiny screen of your computer.

When your gaze is unmet, you look back at the screen, at that god damn blinking cursor that is mocking you in the comment section of Taehyung’s status. Why were you so scared? Two years was a lot of time to mature—and if you did it in a mature, nonchalant way, Taehyung would also take it as a mature compliment . . . right?

But then, who all would be able to see it? Everything that you commented on or liked on Facebook and any other social media always ended up on your friends timelines. A public comment wasn’t a good idea. A DM, instead? Or was that too personal? Too closed off? Too secret?

You groan outwardly, leaning back in your seat. A woman to your right reading a novel at a small table glances over at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“This is stupid,” you murmur to yourself quietly. “Just do it!”

You quickly pull up your chat and type Taehyung’s name into a new box and start your message:

Hey, congrats on graduating

Too brief. Do it again.

Hey, an Associates! That’s awesome! Always knew you would get there one day. Remember in high school when

Too long-winded. And too fucking happy. Again.

Hey, uh, just wanted to say congrats on the achievement

“UH”? Were you a bumbling moron?

Hey, long time no talk

You pause, biting your lip. That was casual, right?

Hey, long time no talk. Just wanted to congratulate you on getting your degree, and I hope you’ve been doing well :)

You let out a long breath of air from your nose, reading the two lines over and over again until you finally hit ‘Send,’ and close out of the app as quickly as you can. You close the lid of your laptop too, realizing for the first time that your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, pulse singing in your veins. It feels good, but you’re worried it won’t last long. What if he didn’t even answer back?

You don’t give yourself much time to dwell. You pack up your things, throwing away your empty venti cup in the trash can beside the door as you exit the cafe. You decide to give it twenty-four hours before you check to see if he read it, just to save yourself from disappointment and from looking over-eager to reply to him—if he decided to reply .

But Taehyung doesn’t care about either of those things, obviously, because as soon as you are settled into the front seat of your car, your phone buzzes with a message:

Y/N! Thanks so much. I never thought I’d get there, honestly. & it HAS been such a long time . . . how are you?

— 1 month later —

“Can you pause it?” you ask Yeonwoo. “I have to pee.”

She rolls her eyes. “This is like the third time!” she groans, but pulls the remote from underneath her blanket and hits pause. “We’re never going to finish the HP series at this point.”

You two were having a movie marathon during a dreary Saturday—as the movie paused, you could hear rain splatter heavily against the windows in the living room—and Yeonwoo had insisted you start the Harry Potter series from her favorite, The Goblet of Fire. You were actually a fan of The Prisoner of Azkaban, but when you suggested watching it first, Yeonwoo had acted like she hadn’t heard you.

“It’s the margaritas!” you yell, already halfway down the hallway to your bedroom. “Stop judging me!”

As you round the corner into your bedroom, you whip out your phone from your hoodie pocket, tapping twice on the screen to make it light up.

The first message you have is from Hongbin, an email sent thirty minutes ago:

I have a meeting tonight after work. I’m sorry I keep cancelling our anniversary dinner, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.

-Hongbin

He wasn’t allowed on his phone during work hours, so he’d resorted in the last few months to a distant, formal mode of communication that the computer on his desktop would allow him. You hated it, mostly because a message from work meant the inevitable—Hongbin was telling you he was getting off late and/or cancelling plans. Today it was both.

You use the bathroom and wash your hands, drying them off on a towel next to you before picking your phone back up. You bite your lip, reading over the message once more. Your anniversary was three weekends ago, and Hongbin and you still weren’t able to celebrate because of his demanding schedule. You just wanted some time with him, but Hongbin insisted on getting dolled up and taking you out—which led to reservations and a special time allotted that he, in turn, kept being unable to make.

You sigh. There’s nothing you can do—sending back a biting remark or getting mad would do nothing. Hongbin was working hard at his firm, determined to climb the ladder after his father. Who were you to complain about that process? He had drive, ambition, goals—and what did that matter in the face of his girlfriend wanting to spend a little time with him after a year of dating?

As you exit out of the email app, your phone vibrates in your hand, alerting a new message in a private Facebook chat. You click it open, revealing a smiling picture of Taehyung standing beside a road sign—one that you recognize well. Underneath the caption reads:

Guess who has two thumbs and just moved all their shit into an apartment here?

You break out into a grin instantly, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Shut UP! No fucking way! You got the job at the library???

Taehyung is typing . . .

Duh! Those fuckers want me to start Monday

I don’t have a bed frame or a comforter

My mattress is sitting on the floor with just a navy fitted sheet on it

You breathe out an airy laugh before sending your response.

Lmaooooo, poor kid

Congrats tho

That was so quick, you’re insane

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up!!

& thnx :) How’s your day going?

“Y/N, this century, please!” Yeonwoo yells from the living room. “Jesus.”

You send a quick movie marathon w/ Yeonwoo. Harry potter to Taehyung before tucking your phone back into your hoodie and walking back to the living room. You fall back on the couch, bundling up with your blanket and margarita glass.

“Sorry,” you say, giving her a smile. “Press play!”

Hongbin 9:36pm

Just getting home. I’m so tired

You roll your eyes at the message, throwing your phone back down onto your bed. You were cuddled up in a blanket, catching up on shows on your DVR while Yeonwoo was getting dressed for a night downtown. It was still raining, so you’d decided to stay in—but your roommate obviously didn’t care about her hair or herself getting wet whatsoever as she stepped into your room donning a short, black skirt.

“Is this cute?” she asks, turning around in a circle. “Maybe with a jean jacket or something?”

You nod. “What about that rugged one you just got from the thrift store a few days ago?”

She disappears again, some rustling coming from her room as she searches. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” she calls. “We can pick one place and stay there, so we don’t get soaked!”

“I’m fine,” you say back, eyes trained on the TV. “I’m not really feeling it, just gonna watch some shows or something.”

Yeonwoo comes back into your room a few moments later, hair curled in pretty, loose ringlets and outfit complete with a skirt, floral top, jean jacket and boots.

“Good?” she asks.

“Cute,” you say. “You leaving now?”

“Yeah, I just called the Uber. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home, okay?”

You nod, listening to the sound of her boots clunking down the hallway before the front door opens and closes. You sigh. You probably should have went with her, knowing how she gets, but you hope that for once she can handle herself without you. Or that one of her friends is playing the “mom” card for the night. You wanted to sulk for a little bit; if your boyfriend was going to cancel plans, you might as well sit inside and do nothing and it be completely his fault.

You settle back into your blankets, trying to refocus on your show when your phone vibrates again by your thigh. You’re thinking it’s Yeonwoo, saying she forgot to lock the front door, or Hongbin, wondering why you haven’t responded to his earlier messages—but it’s neither.

Video Call from Kim Taehyung…

You stare at the screen, bewildered. Looking back at you is the reflection of someone who should not be seen in video form—but you find yourself hitting the ‘Accept’ button, anyways. Taehyung and you don’t video chat, so this is new.

Taehyung’s face fills the screen immediately, and your heart jumps at the sight. He’s wearing a dark beanie, his ashy blonde locks sticking out from the front and sides a little. In an awkward silence, he blinks twice into the camera, making sure he isn’t frozen from his side of the connection.

“Y/N?” he says with caution, and your breath hitches quietly at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth after so long.

Of course, with you and Taehyung having reconnected on social media a month ago, you’d done your fair share of stalking his profile—looking at pictures, status updates, his tagged content—but seeing his face on the screen of your phone was something else entirely. You find yourself speechless.

His eyes, pretty and brown, search the camera unsurely.

“Are you frozen?” he asks again, shifting in his seat. “Hello?”

You finally break out of your trance, opening your mouth and shaking your head a little. “Hi,” you say quietly, watching Taehyung’s face brighten at the sound of your voice.

“Hey!” he says, grinning. “We had a bad connection for a minute, there.”

“Yeah.” You laugh lowly, nervously. “The internet here sucks, sometimes.”

“Yeah, same.” He moves around with his phone in his hand, placing the camera lower so that you get more of his chin and neck, the strong line of his jaw. In the background, you see plain white walls and kitchen cabinets, making you realize where he is, finally.

“Is this your new place?” you ask, sitting up in bed. “Let me see.”

“Yep!” He taps his screen twice, turning the camera around to the kitchen.

It’s a small, cozy room with dark granite counters and white walls, giving it a modern feel. Taehyung gets up from his seat and walks into the living room, giving you the tour. A small, dark couch sits against one wall with a ton of boxes surrounding it.

“I haven’t gotten much done,” he says, laughing nervously. “Moving by yourself is so hard. I had no idea.”

“You did everything alone?” you ask. “Your parents didn’t help?”

He doesn’t answer, moving past the living room to his bedroom, which is exactly like he explained earlier with a single mattress sitting against one wall, a night stand placed beside it and a desk on an adjacent wall.

“I was thinking of putting my bed in this corner,” he explains, “then it wouldn’t be up against that window and I’d have some space to do stuff in the middle.”

“Like what?” you tease. “Dance?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung says, laughing. He taps the screen again so the camera is back on his face, and your stomach clenches at how he prettily smiles into the camera. “You never know what can happen at casa de Taehyung.”

You roll your eyes, which only makes his smile grow brighter.

“But yeah, my parents helped me move the big stuff and then they left.” He frowns. “Now I have to unpack everything before I work on Monday.”

You shrug. “Well, you don’t have to. But I guess that would make the most sense, huh?”

“Yep.” He sighs. “Oh! I have a reason for this phone call that I keep forgetting to ask you.”

A little part of you feels relieved. It felt odd but good talking to Taehyung, but you were beginning to wonder why he’d chosen videoing instead of a text or phone call—either way, you were happy he was taking your mind off of other things for the time being.

You watch him walk back through his apartment to the kitchen, where he turns the camera on a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table.

“How do I keep these alive?” he asks. “Someone gave them to me as a housewarming gift—don’t ask why, I have no idea. I mean, seriously,” he turns the camera back on himself, quirking a thick eyebrow, “do I look like a flowers kind of guy?”

You giggle. “I mean, maybe?” you say. “Remember in high school when Mina asked you to prom? She went all out with it, too! She got someone to record it and she brought you flowers—”

“And I had to gently let her down because I’d just asked you out a week earlier?” he finishes for you, cringing at the thought. “God, that was terrible.”

“Hey, I told you to go with her!” you counter, laughing. “I didn’t care about prom whatsoever, but you made me go anyways.”

Taehyung shrugs, giving you a soft smile. “But you were so pretty in your dress, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

Your next laugh dies in your throat, but you manage a smile at Taehyung’s compliment. You two are quiet for a beat, eyes focused on each other in the camera lens as you relive the moment in your memories.

“The flowers need a vase,” you say, finally. “Do you have one?”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side. “If I’m not a flower guy, why the hell would I have a vase handy?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again at his ever-present sarcasm. “Shut up.”

“Should I put them by the window?” he asks, getting up from his chair. “In the morning, they can—”

“No!” you say, a little louder than you mean to. Taehyung freezes on your screen. “I mean, direct sunlight will make them wilt faster. Don’t you know anything?”

“I know you’re being very unhelpful to my situation,” he says, tsking. “Do you have a vase?”

“Yeah?”

“Then bring it to me.”

You pause, feeling your heartbeat increase as you ponder the offer. Bring it to him? As in to his house? As in seeing each other for the first time in two years?

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stutter, eyebrows furrowing. “I guess I could. I mean, you said you needed help unpacking . . . before Monday . . . right?”

Taehyung nods, keeping his expression even. “I’ll make it worth your while—I can make us lunch or dinner or something. Whenever you’re free to help tomorrow.”

You’re still quiet, so he tacks on: “Don’t feel like you have to or anything!”

“No, no.” You shake your head. “Sunday is good.” Hongbin was going on a golfing trip with some coworkers and Yeonwoo would be passed out until the afternoon time. “I can come, and I’ll bring you a vase.”

You’re glad you agreed, because the way Taehyung’s face brightens—a wide smile splitting his face—makes you feel like you’d do anything to see it happen more often.

“Great,” he says. Then he sighs, and looks past the camera around at his apartment. “Well, I’m going to try to get some stuff done in the kitchen tonight so we have somewhere to eat tomorrow.” His eyes meet yours once more: twinkling, hopeful, a little mischievous, but that’s just Taehyung. “I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “See you then.”

His voice is a soft hum to your ears, “Goodnight, Y/N,” right before he disconnects the call.

The screen goes back to Facebook, and you stare at it for a little while, relishing in the excited rush flowing through your veins, at the familiarity of it all, at one thought turning over in your brain for the rest of the night: you were going to see Taehyung tomorrow.

You tell Taehyung you won’t be headed over to his place until after lunchtime, but your excited nerves have you awake at eight. You stare at the ceiling fan rotating in the center of your bedroom for a while, watching a single blade spin while your mind reels similarly until you feel dizzy and have to close your eyes again. It was just Taehyung, and you were just doing him a favor. So why did it feel like you were keeping a secret?

After watching a little TV in the comfort of your bed, you get up and take a shower, going through your normal routine at a leisurely pace to help waste some time. You grab a granola bar off your desk and eat it while you pick out an outfit. When you finally step out of your room and into the living room, you’re surprised to see Yeonwoo stretched out on the couch, a white sheet mask covering her face as she watches TV.

“Hangover?” you comment, snickering. “You’re up early.”

“So are you,” she snaps back, but her usual biting remark is softened by the stiffness of her mouth as she tries not to move too much and disturb the mask. “Where you going?”

You decide to tell the truth, seeing if it helps ease the building anxiety in your stomach. And to cover your tracks for later, whatever later was. “I’m helping an old friend move into their apartment.”

Yeonwoo sits up, eyeing your outfit—a pair of plain jeans, a crew neck sweater and sneakers. When she’s satisfied with your believable clothes, she relaxes, shrugging her shoulders. “Sounds like a shitty way to spend a Sunday, but okay. Have fun.”

You laugh with her, trying to sneak out of the house without any further questions. Just as you open the door, she hits you with another: “What’s with the vase?”

“Housewarming gift!” you quip, stepping outside. “Bye!”

You realize on the way over that you’re making a mistake.

You should have told Hongbin. You weren’t just going to help an old friend, you were going to help an old ex. A person who, foolishly, in high school, you thought you were going to spend a good portion—if not the rest—of your life with.

You look down at the housewarming gift in the passenger seat of your car: a bottle of white Riesling with a gold bow around it, and your stomach twists in nausea. As the GPS directs you to make a u-turn because you just missed the exit to Taehyung’s house, you find yourself pulling off onto the side of the road.

Hongbin answers on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” you say timidly, biting your lip for a second. “I just wanted to call you—I’m like, I don’t even know what I’m doing right now—”

A roar of laughter erupts in your ear, cutting you off. You hear Hongbin excusing himself and some rustling before he finally addresses you. “Y/N, hey,” he says, rushed. “What’s up? I told you I was busy today with work.”

It’s a response so fucking typical of him you can’t even give him the satisfaction of getting mad. Here you are, trying to give him some insight on your worries and he’s too busy chasing a promotion to care.

“Seriously? You’re not at work, Hongbin,” you remind him sourly. “You’re on a golfing trip kissing ass.”

“And if we ever expect to move in together, I’m going to have to get back to kissing said ass, Y/N,” he snaps back just as easily. “I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Forget it. Bye.”

You hit end on the call and throw your phone down in the seat next to you, listening to the harsh sound of it smacking against glass. You wince, and although you don’t want to, you glance down to make sure you haven’t broken the two gifts beside you.

Taehyung. Your annoyance at Hongbin drains and nervousness replaces it—but it’s a feeling you’d rather have a thousand times over than one of neglect. So you put the car back into drive, make the designated u-turn the GPS is telling you to, and get back on the road to Taehyung’s house.

Which building/room?

Taehyung is typing . . .

1100/425!

You grab the wine in one hand and the vase in the other, making the short walk from the parking lot to the building lobby. You take a deep breath as you step into the elevator, letting it fill your chest, lungs, stomach, and letting it out through your nose only when the shaft lurches to a halt. A ding sounds as the elevator stops on the fourth floor, and all too quickly you are standing in front of room 425.

With your heartbeat pounding against your rib cage, you rap your knuckles softly on the surface. You hear heavy footsteps and clicks of the lock, and then Taehyung is swinging the door open, his face full of delight to see you standing on the other side.

He’s traded the beanie and sweater from yesterday for freshly washed hair that sits in voluminous, messy pieces on his forehead, a grey zip up hoodie, and black sweats. He looks so reminiscent of times when you two were in high school hanging out at his house that you feel relieved—if anything, he was still the Taehyung that loved to be in baggy, comfortable clothes.

“You made it!” he says, grinning. “And you brought the vase!”

He steps back and gestures for you to come inside, which you do, cautiously. You glance at the floor, following his bare feet into the kitchen, watching as they come to a stop in front of the oven.

You set the vase down on the table, still gripping the wine awkwardly in your left hand. “I um—brought this, for you,” you say, holding the bottle out towards him. “Hope you still like sweet white.”

Taehyung smiles softly, taking the gift from you. “Of course I do. Maybe we can crack it open after dinner.”

You nod, and the space between you two falls into an uncomfortable silence. Taehyung tries to make it not as obvious that he’s taking you in—eyes trailing from your head to your toes and back again, taking note of all the changes—but you can feel his gaze on you even as you look away, bringing an embarrassing heat to your already warm face.

You clear your throat. “How much did you get done last night?”

Taehyung seems to remember why you are there, finally, pushing off his relaxed stance against the counters and walking into the living room.

“The kitchen is pretty finished, I think,” he says. “But there are so many boxes in the living room that need to be unpacked.”

Your eyes trail over the ones stacked on top of each other on the couch, blocking any and all possible ways of relaxing in front of the flat screen TV already perched on an entertainment stand.

You sigh. “Well, let’s start with those, then.”

You two fall back into your old rhythm quickly. You’re grateful for this, because the first thirty minutes are spent quietly unpacking, neither of you being sure what to say to the other until Taehyung finally starts talking about his library interview.

You catch back up on what each other have been up two since high school: you, working full time and just recently deciding to go back to school, and Taehyung, living with his parents while he took day classes and saved up money to move out. In two years time, both of you have grown up so much; but also not, by the way you still reminisce about the past, teasing each other about old embarrassments and times together.

Taehyung has matured. He has hardened in places—the line of his jaw and playful glint in his eyes both sharper, body filled out and lean underneath the thin t-shirt that you see after he sheds his hoodie, voice sultry and deep, an air of confidence that follows his movements that you aren’t used to seeing. You wonder what changed him, but you’re fine with whatever it was because this is a good look for him.

“We’re so stupid for moving out so early,” he says later, flopping back on the now-cleared couch. His face glows with a radiant warmth, his hairline a little sweaty from moving furniture around in the living room. You’d offered to help but you couldn’t lift much—and Taehyung had insisted he could do it by himself.

“Hey, Yeonwoo and I are doing just fine,” you counter, frowning. You take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, pulling your legs underneath you. “You should have gotten a roommate. It would make everything easier.”

“I don’t want to live with anyone, though,” he replies.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard.”

“So is paying rent by yourself,” you add, laughing. “I think you’re hard to get along with, and that’s why you don’t want a roommate.”

Taehyung raises a questioning eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Explain.”

“Well for starters,” you begin ticking each point off on your fingers, “everything has to be neat and tidy. You hate mess.”

“This is true. Go on.”

“And,” you add another finger, “You survive off of coffee and chicken wraps like a weirdo, so a roommate would starve going grocery shopping with you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but lets you have that one. “Mhm, and?”

“And, you smoke. Not everyone likes that.”

Taehyung smiles, knowing he has the one-up on you. “That, my dear, is where you’re wrong,” he says. “I quit.”

You sit up a little. “What? For real?”

“It’s too expensive,” he says. “I do something a little cheaper, now.”

“Cigarettes?” you say, unable to hide the disgust in your tone.

Taehyung reaches in the pocket of his hoodie thrown over the back of the couch. “Cigars,” he says, brandishing a rectangular box.

You furrow your brows. “But you used to smoke these before.”

“And now they’re weed-less,” he counters, giving you an impish grin. “Here, smell.”

He takes one out and hands it to you. It’s skinny—not the giant ones that mob bosses smoke in movies—and you bring it to your nose with caution. On the inhale, your senses are flooded with a sweet, smoky smell, something reminiscent of fruit and maybe, firewood.

You hand it back to him and he digs around in his pocket for a lighter. You reach for the box instead. “Summer blend?” you read.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

He lights it up, takes a long inhale. You watch the tip glow red, watch the way Taehyung’s mouth purses around the end before he blows out a continuous exhale of smoke. Even though you’re on the other end of the couch, the smell hits you immediately and you realize it’s one that has been floating in the air since you got there. Earlier, when Taehyung brushed past you to get another box you would smell it, and you thought it was just the scent of his deodorant or body wash. Somehow, knowing it comes from a cigar makes it more enticing, and you watch curiously as Taehyung takes another slow drag.

His eyes meet yours through the skinny smoke hovering in the air and he raises an eyebrow. “Want to try?”

You feel yourself reaching for it before you’ve entirely made up your mind. You smoked a cigarette, once. You hated it. But that wasn’t with Taehyung watching you intently from the end of the couch, so you find yourself more inclined to like cigars as you bring the plastic tip to your mouth.

You cough a little on the exhale, but otherwise it doesn’t feel like anything. You find yourself wishing for something a little stronger, and your eyes drift to the unopened bottle of wine on the table as you hand the cigar back to Taehyung. His eyebrows raise questioningly at you, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything.

You gesture to the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” You pause. “Or late lunch, rather?”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck lazily. “Umm—”

“You didn’t buy anything, did you?” you guess with a sigh. “So typical of a chicken-wrap-and-coffee guy.”

“What? No.” He laughs. “I said I was going to cook for you but it’s going to take a second. Is that okay?”

“Oh.” You perk back up. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great.” He gives you a smirk. “But you’re right about the chicken wrap thing—I'm also a dying-vase-of-flowers guy,” he adds jokingly, getting up from the couch and walking towards the dining room table. He puts his cigar out in a little ash tray on the table, touching the wilted bouquet before spinning on his heel to look at you. “Can we salvage these?”

“I suppose I can work my magic,” you say playfully. “You start cooking.”

“Deal.”

While Taehyung pulls pots, pans, and ingredients from the cabinets, you work on cutting the stems on the flowers shorter. As you run them under cold water in the sink, Taehyung looks on from your side.

“Girls must be born with the ability to take care of things,” he hums appreciatively.

You smile a little and try not to let him see it as you pull dead leaves and wilted petals off before finally, sticking all the stems in the clear, glass vase you brought from your apartment.

“Pretty?” you ask.

Taehyung turns around from where he’s chopping vegetables at the counter. “Perfect,” he agrees. “You’ve earned a glass of wine.”

“You say that like I didn’t buy it,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, it’s my housewarming gift,” he says. “But I’m willing to share.”

You grab a glass from the cabinet Taehyung points to, thanking every instinct under the sun that you thought to get a bottle that had a screw-on top. Without looking for it, you know Taehyung wouldn’t have a wine opener.

“What are you making?” you ask.

“Stir fry,” he says. “I figured it would be quick and easy. That okay?”

You sip quietly and stand beside Taehyung as he chops, looking at the graceful way in which he handles food. His hands, big and tan, work with a knife flawlessly. You can’t help but wonder where he learned the skill—in high school he hadn’t known how to cook eggs properly.

He gets you to pour some wine in a separate glass for him that he sips on occasionally. You’re glad you thought about buying it—somehow having a drink in your hands eases the awkward staleness in the room that seems to creep back in during silences. He asks you a few more questions while he prepares—what was the best place to eat in town, what was the nightlife like, what was there to do for fun—and you rattle off what you little you know.

Lastly, he pulls out a small package of white mushrooms and begins slicing them. When he sees the uneasy expression on your face at the addition of a certain hearty vegetable, he shakes his head.

“I’m cooking them in a separate pan, love,” Taehyung murmurs quietly, brow furrowed in concentration. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, casually tacking on the old pet name onto the end, but you’re glad he doesn’t, because the shock on your face would tell everything.

He hasn’t forgotten anything about you or your preferences. The thought pulls at invisible strings on your insides, but it’s not the same anxiousness as earlier. It’s more of a warmth, an appreciation, a heartfelt emotion that has been silently gnawing at the back of all your interactions since you stepped foot in his apartment. You missed this.

You down what’s left of the wine in the bottom of your glass, hoping the alcohol will take that tight feeling in your throat with it as it travels to your stomach.

“Shit, I forgot to cut up the broccoli!” Taehyung says suddenly. “Y/N can you do that while I get these mushrooms frying? They’re going to take longer.”

You nod, going to the refrigerator. Taehyung puts a pan on the stove and turns on the burner, digging around for a spatula to cook with as you grab the knife and get to work. Somehow, you forget everything you’ve ever learned about cooking or cutting, and a few seconds into slicing the broccoli stem, the tip of the paring knife goes right through the tip of your index finger.

“Ow, fuck!” you say, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your injured finger with your other hand. It oozes blood and you step back from the cutting board to save the food.

Taehyung is at your side immediately. “You okay?” He cuts off the stove burner and rushes out of the kitchen. “Run it under some water, I’ll get the first aid kit!”

It isn’t bad, but it’s going to need a band-aid if you expect to carry on the night without a huge mess. You watch the dark red liquid start to run down your finger so you walk out of the kitchen to avoid getting blood in that sink and opt for the bathroom connected to Taehyung’s bedroom instead.

“I know the first aid kit is around here somewhere,” he murmurs as you walk through, his back to you as he bends over a few boxes stacked in the corner of his room.

You turn the sink on and rinse off the blood pooling at the end, blotting it dry with a square of toilet paper. Taehyung walks into the bathroom with the first aid kit just as you are closing the lid on the toilet, sitting on the seat as you apply light pressure to the cut.

“Is it bad?” he asks, crouching down in front of you. He pulls some ointment out of the kit and flips your hand over, cradling it with his much bigger one as he inspects the damage.

“It’s fine, I think,” you say, trying hard not to show the way tingles are shooting up your arm as Taehyung spreads a small amount of ointment on your finger, hands dancing and caressing your skin with care as he tends to it. “Sorry that I’m so awful at using a knife.”

He looks up at you, giving you a pretty, genuine smile. “It’s okay, I should have remembered—last time we tried to cook together it ended in a disaster, too.”

There’s a beat of silence—partly because you are racking your brain trying to remember the specific time Taehyung is referring to, and partly because suddenly, his face is close to yours for the first time of the entire night and you can see everything that you missed about Taehyung: the chocolate irises that stare happily back at you, the freckle that dots the tip of his nose that you used to kiss over and over, the softness of his pink lips and the way they pull back over a set of straight, beautiful teeth and send a warm smile your way.

And then his head is bent again, the moment gone as quickly as it came as he focuses back on the task at hand. He grabs a thin band-aid from the kit and works on unwrapping it, letting go of your fingers for the time being.

“Thanks for this,” you say, finally. “And thanks for inviting me over, I’m really—” you pause, licking your dry lips and trying to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in your throat, “I’m glad I got to see you.”

Taehyung doesn’t look up immediately at the confession—instead, he lets it linger quietly in the air of his cramped bathroom as he peels the paper strips off the sides of the bandaid. He wraps it around your finger gingerly, dropping the trash in the waste basket that sits beside the toilet. Still crouched in front of you, Taehyung pulls your hand up, fingertips aligning with his as if measuring your hand sizes before he intertwines them between yours. He gives your hand a squeeze like this, and you find it hard to look away as your eyes meet.

“Me too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

The quietness of Taehyung’s apartment lays easily on the conversation, covering the confession like a warm blanket. Your face is hot, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the wine or the intensity in which Taehyung is staring at you, still crouched in between your legs and holding your hand with his own.

When his eyes lower from yours finally, you realize you had been holding your breath the whole time, and you let it out quietly through your nose. Taehyung seems to deflate in front of you as well—deciding against whatever was rolling in his mind and making his eyebrows furrowed, as he loosens his grip on your hand and moves to straighten up.

But you don’t want him to move yet. You want to stay in this atmosphere, in this pulse-racing closeness with Taehyung because it’s a feeling that hasn’t coursed through your veins in a long, long time. You tug him back into place and he stutters at the movement, opening his mouth to say something but you don’t let him.

You just want to touch him, to feel him underneath the weight of your fingertips, to run your hand across the tan, smooth skin of his cheek. The feeling is so strong you can’t decide a solid reason why you shouldn’t. So you untangle your hand from his and rake it through the long, blonde strands of his hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck where you know he likes it. Taehyung’s eyes close from pleasure, familiarness—and when he opens them, you know he’s lost the battle with himself from the fire lit behind his brown irises. You don’t mind, because you lose the same battle when you decide to lean in, using your hand resting on the back of Taehyung’s neck to guide his lips to yours.

The kiss is timid at first, a testing of the waters with closed mouths pressed against each other because neither of you are sure what is happening, or if it should be happening. But when Taehyung brings his hands up to cup the sides of your face, breaking away for just a second to reposition so that his lips are slanted across yours in a harder, more urgent kiss—all sensibility you had leaves the room.

Taehyung pulls you up from your sitting position as he straightens his legs from crouching, using the opportunity to bring you closer and wrap his arms around your waist while his lips graze feverishly across your own. It’s been over two years without pressing your lips against his, but the moment they touch, everything comes back. Taehyung kisses you to leave you breathless, his tongue easily slipping in after a few moments, lacing with your own in a way that is familiar but exciting and new at the same time.

You’re reminded of the mushrooms suddenly, and that Taehyung hasn’t forgotten anything about you like this, either, despite some time apart: the way you loved it when he cradled your face with one hand while his other wrapped around your waist, cocooning you in his warmth and pressing you against his lean body; kissing you slow, but hot and needy to where your body can’t help but feel like melted ice cream in his hands; the way you loved it when he pulled back and looked at you, gauging your reaction to it all, even when he knew exactly what he was doing to you before diving back in with eagerness that made your heart skip.

When you break away to get some air, Taehyung only moves his attention to the skin of your neck, peppering kisses down your jawline until he reaches your pulse point, suckling on the skin lightly there. You close your eyes, tilting your head back to encourage him further, a breathy sigh releasing from between your lips at the warmth of his mouth.

Somewhere along the sucking and nipping and feverish, open-mouth kisses on your skin, Taehyung begins walking you back through the bathroom door frame and into his bedroom. You stumble with him towards the bed, unable to take your hands off of each other for fear that the moment will be ruined and unable to be recaptured with quite the same amount of passion. Neither of you speak, either, for the same reasons, you suppose--but you couldn’t say anything if you wanted; Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance with the way his mouth dances across yours.

Taehyung lightly pushes your shoulders once you’re at the edge of his mattress that sits on the floor—sans bed frame—and you lower yourself down as he follows you, covering your body with all of his. He positions himself perfectly between your legs so that his hard cock sits right against your center, placing pressure on your most sensitive bits, and Taehyung milks a slight moan from your mouth when he ruts against you.

Your clasp the sides of his face, bringing his lips back to yours with fervor unmatched to any time you’d been kissed in the past two years. While Taehyung licks inside of your mouth, your hands roam underneath his thin, white T-shirt, fingernails dragging along the skin of his back in a light scratch that has him groaning in the back of his throat. He leaves your mouth again to nip along your collarbones, bringing one of his hands up to pull down the collar of your sweater and give himself more access.

It’s hot in his room, and not because the A/C isn’t working—in between closing your eyes, you see the vent on the ceiling right above your heads—but your skin is warm all over your body, a feeling that only comes with the circumstance of Taehyung between your legs. You roll your hips upward to meet his, making his mouth stutter in the marks of distinction it was making along your chest. He sits up, kneeling between your legs and looking at you with curious eyes. Taehyung’s lips are swollen from all the kissing and his hair is mussed from your fingertips running through it, but in this moment, you’ve never been more attracted to him.

You tug at the bottom of his shirt and Taehyung snatches it over his head with ease, smirking when your eyes roam over the tan, lean planes of his chest and stomach. His shoulders have widened and broadened, but he’s still managed to keep a slender, boyish figure over the years; you want to run your hands over every crevice of his body and re-remember all the lines so that when this moment between you two is done, you can revisit the memory over and over and over.

When Taehyung leans back over you to connect your lips again, you roll over his body before he can, pushing him flat on his back and swinging your leg over so that you’re straddling his waist. Though Taehyung looks surprised at first at the sudden dominance, his eyebrows slowly return to their normal position on his forehead as you lean down to kiss him once more.

He melts underneath the brush of your mouth, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs caging him on either side of his body. While you trace the underside of his jaw with your tongue, he breathes out, “God, I missed you,” while his hands roam upward, grabbing what he can of your ass through the jeans you have on. The movement makes you jump in surprise and Taehyung laughs a little at the way you pull back from him to look at the playfulness in his eyes before he leans up and kisses you on the mouth chastely.

With his hands spread across your backside, Taehyung pulls your hips towards him, causing you to grind against his hard cock that sits beneath the crotch of his grey sweats. You close your eyes as Taehyung’s tongue sneaks out to tease against yours, coaxing you with the warmth of his mouth and his lap to continue your ministrations.

“Tae,” you breathe out, bowing your head as you continue to grind on him.

Your panties are slick with your wetness, sticking to you uncomfortably underneath your jeans but you’re too lost in the haziness of the moment to do anything about it. You realize how pathetic you might sound, moaning because of the friction between so many clothes, but when you open your eyes and look at Taehyung, staring half-lidded back at you and breathing heavily—you couldn’t care less. His gaze sends a knot coiling in your stomach, tightening with every roll of your hips.

When you moan his name again shamelessly, Taehyung sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, closing his eyes as if fighting with himself for what he wants to say—but then he loses when the words escape his plump lips.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs. “Why don’t you take these off?” He pats his hands where they rest against your butt, squeezing once again through the material.

The thought flashes in your head of what underwear you wore today—certainly not a fuck me pair—and try to think of how Taehyung would react to seeing your simple, baby blue cotton panties.

“Hm?” he asks, letting his hand come down on your ass in a harder smack this time—still encouraging the roll of your hips against his cock. “Take them off, I want to touch you.” He pauses, fighting the groan building in the back of his throat. “Wanna—make you feel good, Y/N.”

Hongbin is never this forward with you—he wasn’t much of an ass guy in the first place, so he would never do this—and since it had been a while since you two shared a passionate moment because of his work schedule, you couldn’t remember what it was like with Taehyung overpowering those memories with his sensual, fiery touches and narrations.

You want to get completely lost in the moment, but you can’t. Hongbin—he floods back into your brain, unwarranted and at the utmost wrong time he possibly could. It’s all happening so fast—but not fast enough. Your mind takes over instead of your body, your wants, and you open your eyes from their closed state, taking in the sight before you:

Taehyung, underneath you. Shirtless. Small, pink marks covering his neck and chest from your mouth. From your mistakes. From your infidelity. You snatch your hands back from where they rest on his stomach, guilt flooding your system as the fog in your brain thins. Taehyung’s eyes open to anxiously search yours, and he knows immediately what has happened in the last few, precious seconds.

“Taehyung—” you gasp, moving off him and scooting away, off the mattress and toward the wall of his bedroom. When the cold, hard material presses against your back, you realize how far your shirt was pushed up—how close you were to taking it off with your pants following shortly after, and it only makes you feel worse.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, rushing to crawl after you on his hands and knees. He cradles your cheeks between his hands, brushing away trails of tears you didn’t even know you were crying. “Y/N, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so fucking sorry. I—” he pauses, running a hand through his air, looking past you with far off eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, god. Fuck!”

You run a shaky hand through your hair, blinking away tears and moving your head side to side in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pushing his hands away. “I have to go—I have to leave, I’m—” you push up from the floor, walking on shaky legs towards Taehyung’s bedroom door.

He grabs his shirt and is after you in a flash, reaching out to capture your wrist in his before you can make it far. “Y/N, wait a second, we should talk about this.”

You pull out of his loose grip and he lets you, watching you with worried eyes as you put on your shoes and jacket by the door.

“Y/N, please,” he says, and you can hear the hopelessness in his voice. It makes you pause and look up at him, but then your eyes zero-in on the marks on his chest, at the shirt in his hand, and your eyesight blurs with tears again.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Taehyung,” you say. “I’m sorry, this was—this was a mistake.”

Taehyung flinches at the sound of the word, but he nods slowly in understanding. “I’m sor—”

You manage a soft me too, cutting him off before he can say it and then you are rushing out, pulling Taehyung’s front door shut behind you. Just before it closes you catch a glimpse of his kitchen, at the pans on the stove sitting with the cold, forgotten remainders of a dinner that never should have happened in the first place.

— One week later —

“You all right?” Yeonwoo asks as she sits across from you at the kitchen table, setting a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of your tightly clasped hands. This is about the millionth time she’s asked since you got back from Taehyung’s last Sunday—it’s annoying, but at least you’re getting to practice your lying by having to convince her over and over.

“I’ll be great as soon as I drink this,” you say, giving her a smile right before the cup touches your lips. You welcome the burning feeling of the coffee, coating the lies and guilt that keep building up in your throat whenever she asks you.

Yeonwoo hums in agreement, naively, and takes a sip from her own mug.

Of course, you couldn’t tell her what had happened—you couldn’t even process the thoughts yourself, much less explain to someone else what made you cross such a terribly huge line in your seemingly stable relationship. You know you’d wished for it in the moment, but now you want the unrelenting memories of Taehyung to stop flashing through your mind at any given moment and give your poor, guilty heart a fucking break.

“Want to go shopping today?” Yeonwoo asks, not looking up from scrolling on her phone. “I need a new pair of boots.”

You take another sip of your coffee in contemplation, glancing at your own phone sitting a few inches away on the table. Taehyung hadn’t contacted you once since then, and it was eating at your nerves a little bit—shouldn’t he have something to say about it?

“We can go,” you say, finally. “But I need to make a phone call, first.”

Yeonwoo nods and doesn’t look up as you leave the room. You walk in your bedroom, phone in hand and shut the door behind you. For good measure, you lock it, just in case Yeonwoo decides to burst in while you sit Indian style in the middle of your floor and try to figure your conflicted emotions out.

You tap the Facebook app on your home screen and type ‘T’ into the search bar—the first person that pops up is Kim Taehyung from your incessant checking of his timeline within the last week. All he’d posted was a few normal pics of himself sightseeing around town and going to work; it was all boring, mundane things that didn’t help the insatiable craving to reach out to him, but at least he looked cute in his new work button-ups.

You pull up your chat, staring at the last message between you two:

Which building/room?

1100/425!

You knew where his house was, you could just have this conversation to him in person—the thought has you shaking your head before you even finish it. If you couldn’t control yourself last time, how the hell would it be any different during a second round of being alone together?

But, deep down, did you really want it to be any different? The thought had been scaring you for a week straight.

You drag both of your hands down your face in anxiety, pressing your knuckles against your eyes until you see black and static stars. You cross and uncross your legs, pick your phone up and put it down a few times before you finally click in the space to type and let your thoughts formulate freely:

Taehyung, I’m sorry that I left last Sunday and we didn’t really get to talk about what happened. But I’ve had some time to think. Honestly, I think the only thing we can do is put it behind us and move on. I’m sorry that it happened and it shouldn’t happen again. But meeting up made me realize how much I’ve missed you, and I think I kind of need you around as my friend. I’m really sorry, and I hope you still want to talk to me after this. I understand if you don’t, though.

You press send and throw your phone away from you, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face in the space between your legs and chest. You breathe out shallowly, thinking over in your head what you just texted and hoping it didn’t make you sound like a pitiful, stupid, selfish idiot.

You knew it was wrong of you to ask Taehyung to come back in your life after what happened between the two of you. Hell, you know it was wrong to bring him back into your life after two years of radio silence between the two of you. What happened was more than just a moment—it was a melding of hidden feelings, of unfulfilled desires and the unrelenting urge to be with someone who knew your body better than you did.

You loved Hongbin. But Taehyung set a fire within your ribcage that billowed outwards and swallowed everything you thought you wanted in your relationship with your current boyfriend; Taehyung, in just a few short hours, had made you forget all of it, made you cross lines you swore you never would because you knew what it felt like to be cheated on. But something about it had felt so right in the moment—

No. If you were going to do this, you had to do it right. You had to be Taehyung’s friend. You had to bury the moment you two shared along with all your dirty desires and do what was right.

But then again, you never were the best at making decisions. The thought passes through your mind as you hear the distinct, vibrating hum of your phone across the floor a few feet away from you, and you snatch it up with sweating palms, a racing heart, and an unrelenting sense of hope blossoming in your chest.

Before the message even pops up, you know, without a single fucking doubt in your mind, that this moment is going to change everything.

Taehyung is typing...

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #bts angst #honeyedhoseok #the v2 series #don't you need me?#v2 flashback

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vedj-f-bekuesu · 5 years ago

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2019 in Retrospect

2019 has been fairly quiet, so I decided to start off this year by looking back on it. I’ll be dividing it by main fandoms/characters/ships because this year there were actually some new ones. That hasn’t been the case since, like, 2013.

Sonic the Hedgehog

It was an...alright year for Sonic. TSR was fine but too light on content, Mario and Sonic Tokyo felt like a step down from Mario and Sonic Rio but was still alright, and I have not played SEGA Heroes (and haven’t bothered with the Chao in Space short). Lowest spot for me was the IDW comic; the Zombot arc has had one interesting story so far, but the rest has had either bad writing (primarily aimed at Shadow’s turn) or it’s just been wallowing in its bleakness in a way even Shadow the Game didn’t. Then again, I find zombie stories uninteresting to begin with, so no duh I’m not interested in a Sonic take on it.

Chaotix kind of mirror that. Vector’s managed to get a good showing in, batting 3 for 3 on the game front, and having a key role in two of them. And like I said before, the Chaotix have genuinely had the most interesting stories within the Zombot arc, although with Vector and Charmy turned this may become more limited. Speaking of though, Espio and Charmy have had weaker presences. Espio managed to get into all three games in some form but to a lesser extent (one just by name), and Charmy was really left behind.

As for Vecpio, it’s been pretty bare for canon material stuff. Espio got mentioned in TSR as contributing the report that reveals Dodon Pa’s true role (with him and Vector being the key to making everyone shut up about him being suspicious, proving they’re best as a team). And Mario and Sonic Tokyo has something if you headcanon some stuff; when Vector talks about the medals, Espio is the first person you’re directed to. Nothing is said by Vector about Espio in text, but you can implicate that Espio was chosen first because of his strong link to Vector, being the first one Vector would trust to compete at a gold level. Other than that? Dry. And with no announcements for Sonic games in 2020, this may just continue.

Crash Bandicoot

On the reverse side, we have Crash Bandicoot having a really strong year. CTR:NF came out (which is a remake of my favourite Crash game) and has been doing gangbusters. On top of this, it has been going out of its way to revive pretty much every dead character in the franchise, to the point that we have RIlla Roo back in the fold (something I genuinely didn’t think would happen 19 years beforehand).

Skipping straight to the shipping for this, I wouldn’t have imagined it for Crash ever, but there’s actually some in-game material for me to latch onto for DingodileXKomodo Joe! Dingodile has been pushed into a more jovial character since N-Sane Trilogy, being even more doubled down on in CTR:NF. However, for the past 20 years Komodo Joe has managed to avoid being given traits closer to Espio. This game finally catches up to him, and does it hard. Seriously, his character took a hard turn for the stoic badass Espio did after Heroes, and when did Joe ever use Martial Arts magic ever? Aside from making that dynamic naturally more matching, Slide Coliseum joins in the fun with the visual upgrade. It has holographic projections of a trophy girl repping a couple of racers dancing each, and guess who the devs felt could be paired up for how they go together rhythmically? That’s right, my reptile boys. Man.

Super Mario Bros

What a weak year for Mario for me. What Mario got for new games this year were Luigi’s Mansion 3 (which I’ve not played), Mario Maker 2 (which isn’t new story content and doesn’t interest me in the slightest), Yoshi’s Crafted World (which I forgot was a thing) and Mario Kart Tour/Dr Mario World (which...um).

Because of this set-up, Bowser hardly got anything to do so he’s really been on the backburner. Considering how he’s been pushed in the rest of the decade that’s saying something. In fact, the most character stuff he got was in Mario and Sonic Tokyo, and even that was mostly just alright (I think Bowser Jr got the best deal out of that).

Spyro the Dragon

Spyro was alright, but this one’s more understandable. With 2018 being the big year for Spyro’s return, 2019 was a rest for the little guy. That being said it wasn’t completely quiet; Spyro Reignited Trilogy finally got its port on the Switch, and to tie in with that Spyro got an appearance in CTR:NF.

Because of the latter point, Gnasty Gnorc got a surprisingly strong year. Not only having more people learn about his glow-up in SRT, but bringing over that petty and angry character to CTR:NF. Seriously, his bit in the grand prix intro video is great, and he has more lines in his racing quips than any other game.

OK KO

I don’t think I made a post about OK KO on Tumblr (or maybe I did one, I can’t remember). But I did manage to get into this just before it got cancelled so there’s that.

I maintain that the Sonic crossover (aka the first thing I really knew about OK KO) didn’t give me a good impression of the show.It just seemed like “here’s the Sonic and Eggman dynamic but with more cartoon shenanigans*” and it spent more time making endless Sonic references. While some were deeper cuts which actually were impressive, most were references I could see in pretty much any Sonic-referencing material. It wasn’t until I decided to look up more info on Lord Boxman sometime after because I wanted to check if N.Gin was an influence that I found out the plot of the actual show (crossover notwithstanding) was pretty nuts and way more up my alley.

Speaking of, there’s Voxman. Whereas other ships on here I have to dig through material to construct nuggets from them, this was literally in the text. And why not, they have a good dynamic and are usually the most fun to watch bounce off each other. And I still like the fact that if KO and Lord Boxman were the Sonic and Eggman parallel, the story ends with Eggman becoming Sonic’s stepfather. Let’s see IDW tell a story like that, it’d be better than the Zombot stuff.

*I think that was the point but still.

LEGO

Man I wouldn’t have thought they would have remade LEGO Racers but the one they made this year was gre--

Okay no, this year basically reignited another flame that I thought was snuffed out like 16 years ago. For a brief history of me and LEGO, when I was six I had a freestyle box which I used to make an elemental superhero persona. I played with this until I was 11. Before then, my sister got some LEGO Harry Potter sets (which we still have in the loft), I played LEGO Racers a lot (and wasn’t very good at it), and I owned two random other LEGO sets (the trike from Life on Mars and Lava from RoboRIders).

After that, I only dabbled in LEGO when there was a Sonic set done for LEGO Dimensions. I did try to play more into it, but it was really prone to crashing in certain worlds so I eventually got frustrated enough to stop playing it. Sometime in the interim though my sister started enjoying LEGO films without me knowing, so when February came around I was dragged to see LEGO Movie 2 when all I wanted to see in 2019 was Toy Story 4. Dad insisted on it since we rarely have family outings. In retrospect;

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LEGO Movie 2 hit me in a way a piece of media hasn’t for years, or even decades. It’s shot up to be my third-favourite film of all time. And it’s revealed to me that LEGO is shockingly good at making endearing characters. So much so that breaking it down (pun not intended) has to be done by theme.

LEGO Movie: Part of the reason why I didn’t get into LEGO earlier was because I did see LEGO Movie back in 2014 when my sister was given it on DVD (she wasn’t into LEGO then) and I wasn’t impressed with it. In retrospect, I can appreciate what it did more, and I bring it up because it’s what makes Unikitty, Benny and Metalbeard so endearing when combined with what happened in TLM2. Lucy’s okay (moreso in the sequel), Emmet’s cute, President Business is fun but the MVP is definitely Rex Dangervest, who’s this feral monster but with Emmet buried away deep inside ready to flesh him out. When I make LEGO stories, I just have Rex change his mind on rescuing himself after getting the dinosaurs, and instead wreaking havoc in the present. This kills Emmet off in any story I do but it’s a worthy sacrifice.

LEGO City Undercover: As a video game person I’m kicking myself for not getting into this before. Frank Honey is the best; he’s adorable and weird yet still feeling very much human and basically the Emmet of his city. Rex Fury has grown on me lots since my initial assessment of him,it’s infectious how much fun he has with being a criminal (while Vinnie is more fun when not doing criminal stuff and Chan seems to be more focused on doing criminal stuff as a job. I also think his calmer side is criminally (no pun intended again) overlooked). Also Ellie is underrated, she is the best straight man you could ask for.

LEGO City Adventures: As I’ve said before, pretty much everyone in LCA is adorable, especially Duke and Harl. Still hoping for more Daisy time in the second season, she could be a riot if played properly and not just a Fendrich stooge.

Ninjago: Coming in with the hot take here; I prefer the movie version of Ninjago to the series. I think the problem with the series is that it has so much baggage from before the series started to iron out some of its issues and cliches that it’s kinda hard to get into as a new person, whereas movie Ninjago is a lot more approachable and written better off the bat (although I do see why it wouldn’t go down well with existing Ninjago fans). This all just makes me think of that moment in series 11 where Nya sees her worst fear of being normal in an artefact and it shows her movie self, almost as a take that. It just makes me think the show writers are salty about movie Nya kicking show Nya’s ass in being a better character. Also shout outs to Kai, Cole, Zane and Lloyd for being great characters as well (Jay is cute in the movie, his show self can be punted off a cliff for all I care). And I am with the movement to have Cole come out as gay (or at least bi if they want to keep Tournament of Elements I guess).

Nexo Knights: This show is regarded as another Ninjago wannabe, but it feels very different to Ninjago to me. So much so, there’s not a single one of the heroes I don’t like and they all need to be cherished. Macy gets props for being the best female character to me, Aaron is probably my favourite now and this is a house of Clance for future reference.

So, with all that being said, what do I think of the prospects for 2020? I think it’s going to be quieter than 2019 to be honest, since there’s a lot winding down, and on the game side there’s been zero announcements. Crash and Spyro having a rest is understandable, Sonic’s going to have to get past the movie before gearing up for 2021 probably (for the record I have no interest in the movie) and Mario just needs to try harder. And with OK KO dead, only LCA is holding the fort for guaranteed new content I want to engage in right now.

You know what would be fun though? Series 20 of the minifigures theme is due at the end of this year. Wouldn’t it be awesome to use the occasion to give some phsical minifigures to characters who never got them before? LIke, Rex Fury somehow still has enough demand to be a persistent feature in the customs market, give him an official figure (especially since he’s the only character from LCU that’s not Chase that’s even appeared in merch outside the game). Or let Sky Lane get her LEGO Universe look in physical form to go with her LIXS look. Or heck, finally give Rocket Racer his original look, that’s how I discovered the minifigure world in the first place!

#VEDJ-F talks #a lot #2019 #sonic the hedgehog #Crash Bandicoot #Spyro the Dragon #super mario bros #ok ko #lego #vecpio #tagging the vecpio because this is still a vecpio centric account at heart #but please I do not want lego chaotix that would just look weird

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eurello · 5 years ago

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Franchises

Can I just start off the weekend with a small rant: I am so baffled by movie franchises. I love a lot of the original movies, but I've never watched any movie and thought, "I want to watch a thousand of this movie, it should just be this movie for years and years of my life." Even the very best TV shows, I'm over them after like a season or two. How can people sit through 25 movies about the same world and characters? Everyone's talking about this Mandalorian thing, and like, I watched the first Star Wars movies a few times, and really enjoyed them a lot! And then, that was sufficient about that. I can understand kids loving a franchise because kids like consistency and predictability and repetition and familiarity, because their brains aren't done yet. But what’s your excuse?

I’m a completist -- I’m one of those people who never quits a bad book half-way. And so in some situations, I’ll just miserably keep gagging down content that went bad a long time ago, because I feel like I have to finish it. Usually, I’ll get into something when it’s a new, original, creative work, and then it turns into a franchise, and I feel like I’ve suddenly been taken hostage and what started as a commitment to three page-turning novels has turned into a death march through endless multi-platform content. I’m trapped -- I can see new writers and super creative original ideas springing up all around me, but I can’t turn my head to either side, because I’m locked into a dead marriage with a writer I no longer love. Which made me think about which things I’ve eventually given up on and at what stage, and what the longest I’ve stuck with something was.

Star Wars: Watched the three original movies several times, watched that awful Natalie Portman prequel once, tapped out after that.

Harry Potter: Read all the original novels, pre-ordered them even, very excited every time, loved ‘em. Watched about 1.5 movies, but felt super bored by them, since had already read all this. Had no further desire past the end of the story to read anything else by Rowling, or ever revisit any of this in any way. I seem to be the only person on the planet who exists in the space in between “completely uninterested in HP” and “POTTERMANIA POTTERFOREVER.”

Deadwood: Loved it at first, but was quite ready for it to be over by the time the traveling theater group showed up, and was secretly pleased it ended soon after, despite everyone else rending their garments. Really resented the reboot because felt had to watch it, but then enjoyed it.

Veronica Mars: Loved it for two seasons, there was no real need for season 3. Similar to Deadwood, resentful to have to watch a reboot, but then enjoyed it despite myself.

Buffyverse: Watched all of Buffy and Angel, multiple times (although Buffy should have ended at season 5, and Angel at season 3 -- fight me). Even checked out first Buffy comic book, but found it super misogynist. No desire to revisit any of it, and hope none of it ever comes back, because I will for sure feel compelled to watch it.

His Dark Materials: I read the books and loved them! I hear the new series is excellent, but I have no desire to watch it, because...I already read the books.

LOTR: Read The Hobbit and the trilogy. Watched the trilogy. Watched about half of the first Hobbit movie before realizing this was never going to end. (Also, appeared in an improvised parody of the movies for over a year, but was at least paid to do so.)

Hunger Games: Read the books, mostly because they took five minutes. Watched everything but the last half of the last movie, which has not been free on streaming yet, but mostly because Jennifer Lawrence is so pretty.

GOT: Read them all, and, despite what I said above about HDM, watched it all. Really glad it’s over, at this point.

The Walking Dead: Watched it forever, thinking it would surely end at any moment. Miserable slog. Finally realized it was a sunk-cost fallacy around the time Negan showed up, and quit and never looked back. I hear it is still going.

Bridget Jones’s Diary: I thought the first book was really clever at the time! The second book was slightly less so, but a couple funny bits. The first movie was a fun girls’ night out in college. I hear there continued to be more of this stuff from there?!

SATC: I watched the whole show, and really enjoyed it. There are apparently also multiple movies of this? That people actually watched?

Gilmore Girls: I watched all of it over and over for years, because it was my comfort food whenever I was experiencing a depressive episode (which was often). Outside of the context of depression, I think it was a really clever show for about four seasons. The reboot made us all so unhappy!

Jessica Jones: The first season was a revelation! The second season was a disappointment. The third season felt like an actual punishment, and I quit halfway through. This isn’t really a franchise, but I include it, because it’s how I am feeling more and more about TV shows at this age, and it is very freeing to have finally discovered it’s ok to watch one season of a show, enjoy it thoroughly, and not watch any more of it ever again!

Everyone complains about Firefly being canceled, and I agree with them in public, but down here where it’s unlikely anyone is still reading, I will admit one fo my deepest secrets: I actually think Firefly was the perfect length, I hope it never comes back, and I believe it would be much better if all good things ended promptly and permanently.

#star wars #marvel #franchises #movies #boredom

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drvrslcense · 6 years ago

Text

of right now || chapter one

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Pairing: Producer!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2,195

Warning: Swearing, mentions of stabbing someone, anxiety

Series Description: You are an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life with a boyfriend who is in a coma. And he is a successful producer looking for a promotion when he was relocated in Batanes (where you live). His plans are a) make a show b) make it a hit c) get the promotion and d) go back to London. But things don’t go as expected, right?

A/N: So here’s chapter one for you guys out there! Have fun reading and don’t forget to share your thoughts! Oh, btw there’ll be some Tagalog words thrown in there, their meanings will be put down below.

Disclaimer: I do not own the plot nor Tom Holland. The plot along with some lines belongs to Everyday, I love you’s crew and it’s production. Tom Holland is also just a face and a name claim, I do not know him personally nor do I know his personality.

"Good morning, love!" You said to the camera as you stand up and walk to your drawers to pick something to wear for the day.

"It's day fifty-two, hope you are doing alright there," You said as you grabbed a hanger with the outfit you'll wear. It's a plain white shirt topped with a denim skirt overall.

"I gotta go and get ready for the day but I miss you! See you soon, love!" You wave goodbye to the camera giving it a flying kiss then you turn it off and sighed.

Missing Aidan is something you've never expect to feel. He is always there, even in childhood. You'd see him every day since you were young. It started as a foolish crush but it turned into something bigger- something wonderful that only something 13-year-old you dreamt of. Memories with him, doing stuff with him it was always great even eating your favorite dish.

You shook your head trying to avoid the nagging feeling of a black hole forming inside your heart. "Y/N, that's enough," you scold yourself trying to rid yourself of the guilt that you have about his condition. It was because of you that he was lying there, on the hospital bed, unconscious but breathing. Even though others tell you not to blame yourself, you still did. And it's killing you to pretend that everything's alright when it's not.

You got out of the shower getting yourself ready to face the world, to be that happy-go-lucky girl that everyone in Batanes loves. You quickly got dressed in your outfit and as you are tying your white suede sneakers, you heard a knock on your door.

"Hey pumpkin, your lolas (grandmothers) are here. They are very much excited to see you," Your dad says through the door. "Come out whenever you are ready."

"Okay, dad," You said quickly tying your other shoe and abruptly standing up. You quickly grabbed your sling bag and put the video camera inside along with other necessities you'll need for the day. You opened the door and was quickly greeted by the smell of adobo, one of your favorite Pinoy dish.

"Oh, Y/N, you've grown!" Your grandma Esther said as she squeezes your cheeks and kisses both of them.

"Ma, you've seen me five days ago," You said, hugging her as your grandma Julie waddles over you. You let go of Grandma Esther as Grandma Julie approaches you.

"Ah! It's been so long!" Grandma Julie said, smiling so wide and pulling you into a hand.

"Oh, stop it, Y/N's suffocating," Your father said carrying their bags to their rooms. Grandma Esther and Grandma Julie are known as 'The Sisters of Basco'. They are well-known for the restaurant they started years ago that became a hit around the area. Grandma Esther is your direct grandmother, she is the mother of your late mother. While Grandma Julie is like this cool aunt that everyone likes.

"Oh, I'm starving!" Grandma Esther said taking a seat at the dining table, Grandma Julie follows suit. You and father followed after them, taking a seat at your respective places.

"Mother Dearests, how was your Japan vacation?" You ask them, prolonging the 's' sound in dearests as you grab your rice and the adobo and started eating as soon as the prayers are done.

"Oh! It was fantastic!" Grandma Julie said, mouth full of food.

"Oh, Jules, please shut your mouth. I don't want to see another flying rice around here," Grandma Esther said, shutting her up as the food kept flying in bits and pieces out of her mouth as she talks. Grandma Jules shut up quickly and finish chewing her food.

"Anyways," Grandma Jules continued, shooting a glare at Grandma Esther's side. "We got you something." She stood up and went to their room and later came back with a plastic bag.

"Here," She handed you the plastic bag. You took a peek inside and gasp.

"Oh My! Thank you so so much, lolas!" You gushed over the comfy hoodies they got you along with some sweets and a Harry Potter wand.

"No problem, apo (granddaughter)," Grandma Esther said, smiling in your direction and continued eating. "How is Aidan?"

"He's fine," You answered her, "There's still no improvements or any news. Zero, zilch, nada, as in zero."

"Awh, that's okay, Y/N," Granda Jules said giving you a comforting smile. "Sometimes no news is good news." You gave them comforting smiles, too. Letting them know that you're alright, and you're healing from the guilt. You know you have to be there for Aidan, so you put a pin on the guilt that you are feeling and let it stay that way, for now.

"It's not your fault, you know?" Your Grandma Esther added. "It's that bastard who stabbed him."

"Mama," Your father warned your Grandma Esther when she said a bad word.

"Oh, sorry," Grandma Esther said, smiling sheepishly before letting out a laugh and continued eating.

"Thanks, Mama Esther," You said, smiling in their direction. You quickly jumped up and grabbed your sling bag. You saw that you have a tour in less than an hour, so you have to head to the airport right now to pick up the tourists.

"Anyways, I got to go. Duty calls." And with a kiss to your family, you are off riding your bicycle towards the travel agency that will give you the itinerary for today's tour. You are a local tour guide and it's your job to tour the tourists around Batanes.

"Bye, Y/N!" The tourists bid you farewell as you finished the tour and it's already their time to go home.

"Thank you so much for letting me tour all of you around Batanes. See you next time!" You told them, bidding them farewell as they climb into the van after a tiring but enjoying day of the trip.

"Oh!" You gasp in surprise as a child went to hug you.

"I'll miss you, Y/N," The child muttered as he held on tightly to you. He's around three to five years old and he bonded with you for the whole tour. In turn, you told him myths and legends about Batanes that filled the child's mind with wonder.

They soon leave and you went inside the office to take a seat in your desk. You took a breath for a few moments and started arranging your stuff.

"Leaving so soon?" Your boss and a friend of yours, Lia, asked.

"Yeah. Nurse Angie called, plus I wanted to see Aidan," You answered her question, giving her the sweetest smile you could muster. You even questioned yourself if you should do the "puppy dog eyes" thing. But the smile seemed to do the thing.

"Okay, okay. You can leave as long as you're done with your work," She said. "Send Mama Nida my regards." Mama Nida is Aidan's grandmother. His parents abandoned him when he was a child. They left him with her.

"Will do, Lia," You said standing up to hug her. She returned your hug and pat you in the back. "Thank you so much!"

You quickly leave towards the hospital, riding your bicycle. Once, you got to the hospital you quickly opened up your video camera and filmed yourself.

"Hi, Love!" You said, waving to the camera with the brightest smile on your face. That little boy who hugged you earlier made your day brighter than it already was.

"It's already 5 pm and I just finished touring the tourists around here. There was this little boy earlier that hugged me and he's just the sweetest," You said as you walk down the hallways and towards his room.

"Anyways, I'm here to see you now. Have a speedy recovery!" You said to the camera. "I love you. Get well soon!"

You sighed as you entered the room, but was greeted by the joy and love surrounding it. Your grandmas are with Mama Nida and they are all just being adorable together and talking about stuff. They are lifelong friends with Mama Nida, that's the reason why none of them left town even when they had the chance.

"Get ready to roll in 5 minutes!" Tom yelled all over the place. They are at the London Bridge, filming for an action movie he's producing. Just as he was making rounds and making sure that everything is alright, his phone rang.

"Luis! Where the fucking hell are you?" Tom answered the call, his voice stern and urgent. "The camera's rolling in 5 minutes!"

"This is the fifth and last time you're gonna be late," He said walking over to the booth, so he can what's happening on cam. "Get your ass over here or consider yourself fired."

"Get ready. I'm taking over." Tom ordered the crew, especially the lead.

"I thought Alfred still has five minutes?" The lead questioned while studying his lines as the makeup crew tries to cover his eye bags.

"He won't be here in five minutes. He's still in his house and it's two hours away from here," Tom explained to the lead getting ready himself, too.

"Nina!" Tom greeted his boss, kissing her on the cheek. Nina is like a second mother to him, his grandmother the first. She always looks out for him and cares for him like he's her own son.

"How are you? You look like you're in a good mood," Nina mused. Tom chuckled and yelled for a cameraman to focus as his video is being shaky.

"Anyways, what are you doing here? The ratings of my show are high?" Tom asked, confused. Nina only came to shootings when the show's ratings are low to observe whether or not they should cancel it.

"Exactly. I'm here to observe," Nina answered, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. Tom nodded and she continued, "SDF is leaving. We'll be needing a new production manager, ASAP."

"I'm the new PM?" Tom asked, arrogantly. Smirking with overflowing confidence assuming that he's the new production manager that will manage seven shows at a time. Nina just chuckled and looked towards the shooting, Tom just scoffed clearly in disbelief.

"We'll see," Nina said, teasingly.

Three days later, in the management's office, Tom is sitting confidently in his chair. Almost like he knows that he is the one who is promoted. Impatient, Tom started playing on his phone until Nina came in to announce who got promoted.

"SDF retired and we've been thinking of who to replace him. We're very proud and happy to announce that management is promoting Jessa Griffins!" Jessa stood up and immediately thanked Nina while other nominees surrounded Jessa and congratulated her. But, Tom immediately went to Nina.

"Why her?" Tom asked following her as she walked towards her office.

"Because she's hired earlier than you and she's older than you."

"So, you're saying that age is the basis of promotion?" Tom asked in disbelief over the announcement of the promotion.

"And you're saying that you're better than her?" Nina challenged him.

"Yes! My shows are better than hers," Tom boasted, clearly thinking that he's the one who deserves the promotion.

"Look," Nina sighed turning to face him. "You are great in technical and creative works, but she's better at handling people."

Tom just chuckled and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and raised his eyebrows signaling Nina to continue.

"Did you know that Luis was never late for her? In fact, when you fired him, Jessa immediately hired him and they made a great episode."

"So, you're saying I should tolerate incompetence?" Tom asked, aggravated.

"Relax," Nina said. "Why do I get the feeling that you're always in a rush. You're still young. You still have lots to do. In your haste, lots of people got hurt. Why does it always seem like you're in a competition? Life is not about competition, rather it's about simply living it and enjoying every second of it. "

"That's why," Nina continued. "I'm reassigning you to the Philippines. Batanes, specifically. They need a good quality show for the younger market."

"WHAT" Tom exclaimed in surprise. "Is this some kind of punishment? You know I do high adventure, high adrenaline shows. What would I do in a province, anyway?"

"Look, if you pull this off, I'll promote you as a production manager," Nina sighed and rubbed her forehead, a headache clearly forming. "Take this as a challenge. It may actually be the best thing to ever happen to you."

Later on, Tom is back at home cleaning the dishes when his grandmother, Laura said something about the promotion.

"Nina called me earlier, said that you didn't get the promotion. I'm sorry but she's right. You need to take this slow," His grandmother said.

"I know, Lavi. It's just, I don't really know," Tom sighed, finally letting out his feelings.

"You know what you need? A girlfriend." His grandmother pointed out.

"I don't need a girlfriend, I have my Lavi right here," Tom said, kissing his grandmother on the cheek.

"You seriously need to get a life," She said, making some coffee. "And maybe that Batanes thing is good for you."

Of Right Now Taglist: @hollandsosterfield @avengerdcnvers

Some wonderful people who might like this: @prince-p-parker@leiasfanaccount648 @friendly-neighborhood-ash @tomshufflepuff@cutie1365 @marvelousxtsh @wayfaring—stranger @death-over-coffee @its-the-unknownspideywrites @hollandroos @h-osterfield@fratboievans @starksparker @hollandrecs @anxieteandbiscuits @tomhollandvibes

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I love y’all 3000 <3

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