#MY MOTIVATION FUCKIN SKYROCKETING

[lunastars21]

Me waking up in the morning, angy to go to work:

The realization hitting me that the next part of Fang's big break is coming out soon because it is WEEKLY:

Also there are 17 days left before sonic superstars comes out, Y'ALL IM NOT NORMAL!

[jtrbluv]

we’re not really strangers | pjm

summary: We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones. Ready?

or alternatively,

your furtive infatuation with your lifelong best friend proves to be hard to suppress when there’s (1) alcohol involved and (2) a card game that forces you to reveal more about yourself than you could ever wish for. in short, no, you are not ready.

[friends to lovers!au]

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, crack, slight angst

word count: 8.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, two emotionally constipated best friend, PG-15

A/N: hi, i’ve been really excited about this fic for a while, and i’m genuinely so happy that i finally finished it! the card game is in fact real and i got inspired for this fic after i had played the game with a couple of friends myself. AHEM! @koushiningg​ ! we both cried and i do highly recommend to play it! but anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic because i had a lot of fun writing it! sending love always... jumi out!

EDIT: @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ i’d also like to thank the lovely pidge for beta reading this 4 me as well! PIDGE I FUCKIN LOB U!!! 

PLAYLIST ; SEQUEL

♤ ♤ ♤

Not once in your life did you ever imagine a simple card game to become the bane of your existence. 

Yet Park Jimin was able to prove you wrong. 

Let’s play ‘We’re Not Really Strangers’ he said. It’ll be fun, he said.

You stare down at the card in front of you—everything else in your periphery was blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart. 

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the room who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you. 

Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage. 

The white card with crimson red writing made sure to leave an impact, making you feel the most ridiculed you’ve felt all night which says a lot—leaving your mind in a complete frenzy although you refused to let it be known. 

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on your body, especially your heart. 

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in. 

But then you remember that you aren’t that pathetic. Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now. Up to the point where you could probably hear the crickets chirping outside his apartment, except the only sound that was filling your ears was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being. 

Your face may be gradually morphing the same shade of crimson as the writing inscribed onto the card itself, and you may have a whole line of sweat encompassing your hairline. But it’s just a stupid little card game. You could say any stupid little answer and the stupid not-so-little boy wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care. So you shouldn’t care. 

When did you become so pathetic after all?

-one hour and a half ago-

“Why can’t we just play Mario Kart or Uno? This sounds like there’s too much thinking involved,” you whine, leaning against the side of his couch. 

“One, we always play that. And two, I always lose,” he grumbles, plopping down onto the floor.

Jimin rests his back on the frame of the couch as he sits in the small gap made by the large piece of furniture and the coffee table that resided in front of it. You decide to sit on the floor as well, around an arm’s length away from your friend. He places the red box down onto the table—opening the cap and revealing the contents with a mischievous glint in his irises. 

Within the box was a deck of cards, separated into three piles with two pencils on either side. Knowing Jimin, you assumed this game had an ulterior motive you were unaware of, and by the title of the game, you could already tell that you weren’t going to like it very much. 

“How do you even play this?” You ask, causing him to look up in return.

He bites his lip, taking a couple seconds to ponder on your question, “I don’t know it’s my first-time playing too,” he shrugs. “I was watching Jin and Namjoon playing it a couple of weeks ago and for some reason, Jungkook started crying.”

“He is a sap,” you hum in agreement, thinking in retrospect of Jungkook crying from various situations such as Iron Man dying or that one time Jin farted on his pillow and he got pink eye for a whole week. 

“The biggest,” he concurs, “Hm, there’s no instructions in here.” He mutters while shuffling through the cards. 

“Why don’t you just search it up?” You suggest, sliding the box to yourself as he nods and fishes his phone out of his pocket. 

While holding the box in the palm of your hand, you scan the contents���turning it around in your palm until your eyes narrow in on the words printed at the bottom. 

“Oh, it says something here.”

His head perks up. “Hm? What is it?”

You clear your throat at the sight of the long explanation. “We’re Not Really Strangers is a purpose-driven card game and movement all about empowering meaningful connections. Three carefully crafted levels of questions and wildcards that allow you to deepen your existing relationships and create new ones.” You internally grimace at the words. The game hasn’t even started and you already had a bad feeling about it all. “Ready?” You say through clenched teeth, purposely keeping your head hung low. 

Jimin’s lips quirk up into a cheerful grin, unaware of the piercing stare you were giving him. “Okay, I think I got it,” he declares, eyes zeroed in on his phone once more, ”There’s three levels—perception, connection, and reflection. Each level we pass, the deeper and more thought-provoking the questions get. Helping us make a deeper connection and get to know each other better yadda yadda yadda.”

You nod in understanding, sliding the box of cards back towards him—forcing the grimace that kept threatening to plaster itself onto your face into a small, smug smile. 

“The first thing we have to do,” he begins, taking out two pencils and two small pieces of paper, “is write messages to each other. We won’t be able to open these until after we leave.” He explains, sliding a pencil and paper towards you.

“Wow, very cryptic,” you tut, biting down on your bottom lip before more distasteful remarks decided to leave your lips. He doesn’t catch your reaction or your comment though because he’s already got his pencil in his hand, scribbling vigorously onto the tiny piece of paper. Knowing him it could very well be nonsensical insults and doodles, or a whole essay about your friendship and what you mean to him. Most likely ludicrous and full of thought, either way, just like him. 

Without much thought, you lazily jot onto the paper.

know that i love u, u fucker <3 

-y/n

The sound of your pencil falling against the table causes him to look up at you, eyes knit together in confusion. 

“You’re done already?”

You chuckle, “I mean, I wasn’t going to write an essay. You already know how I feel about you. But it seems like you’re writing one though.”

His eyes narrow in on you—giving you an indiscernible look before letting out a small ‘hmph’ and lowering his focus back down to his pencil and paper. You dismiss his enigmatic behavior—deciding to mindlessly scroll on your phone while waiting for him to finish his MLA formatted essay.

Two minutes pass and you hear the sound of his pencil being placed onto the table. “Done.”

“You added citations too right?”

He scoffs, “No, but i’ll gladly add some if you’d like.” 

You roll your eyes for what seems like the umpteenth time in the last five minutes, “Just start the goddamn game.”

He takes the first stack of cards and shuffles them between his hands. “In all three levels, there are wild cards or basically dares we have to complete. And for each level, we get two ‘dig deeper’ cards. Pretty self-explanatory. So this is the perception level. It’s basically designed for first encounters and strangers, and we’re gonna be asking each other questions about ourselves.”

Your eyes widen at the whole confidentiality of it all. “Are we going through all of those cards?” You blurt out, staring at what seemed to be like 50 cards in his hands. 

“Oh no,” he quickly refutes, “It would take hours. We’ll just do like 12 cards each.”

“Alright,” you huff, letting out a small breath of relief. 

“Yay! Okay I’ll go first,” he beams, his toothy smile evident as he places the deck in between the two of you while grabbing a card from the top, “What do you think my name is?”

You snort at the conspicuousness of the question, “Jamal.”

He immediately guffaws at your response, throwing his head back in addition. “Hey, I don’t mind that.”

“Are all of the questions like this?” You say in between hushed laughter. 

“Nah,” he shakes his head as you pick up another card from the deck, “now you ask me.”

“Alright, what’s the first thing you noticed about me?” You ask, slightly taken aback by the sudden earnestness of the question, causing you to become genuinely curious about what his answer was going to be.

He hums, taking a second to think it through. “I think your smile and your laugh. It’s always been really contagious since the day I met you.” He admits, almost matter-of-factly as if it was something you should’ve known by now, yet you did not. 

Your heart nearly disintegrates into a puddle of goop right then and there, but you manage to conceal your reaction, “Aw, you actually like me.” You tease. 

He scoffs with a playful grin on his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself. You still cackle like a damn hyena.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “At least I don’t laugh at every single of Jin’s lame ass jokes.”

He gasps, jaw slack open due to your all too accurate truthbomb, “I did not ask to be attacked in my own residence.”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it then.”

He snorts. “Holy shit, do you remember when I banged my head on the corner of his coffee table.” 

“How could I forget? I had the picture of the bump on your head as my lockscreen for like a month.” You reminisce, resisting the urge to pull up the picture from your phone.

“Yeah, and that same month I bought and rotated between the same 10 hats.”

“Hey! It genuinely didn’t look as bad as you thought.”

He whips his head towards you, giving you a piercing glare that made you want to redact your statement immediately. 

He grins from ear to ear, the little shit, amused at the reaction he was able to garner from you. 

“Aha!” He suddenly guffaws, shooting out of the floor and prancing towards his fridge. He then takes out three bottles of lychee-flavored soju and makes his way back towards the table. 

Jimin being the borderline alcoholic he is, it doesn’t come as a surprise to you. Not even after he takes another trip back to the fridge to grab yet another three bottles of soju, mango-flavored to be exact. He has probably one of the stupidest grins etched onto his face as he held onto the bottles—meanwhile you were more concerned about the possibility of having to clean up a bunch of broken glass and wasted soju. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“And do you plan on drinking all of this by yourself?” you say, gesturing towards the bottles.

“I know my liver is strong, but I don’t buy this shit just to enjoy alone,” he retorts. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head as you click your tongue, “Playing this while tipsy just sounds ten times better don’t you think?.”

You shrug—although you had a strong hunch for what he was insinuating, “I mean I guess.”

He starts to pour soju into his shot glass, stopping just before it hits the brim. He slides the glass to you and you take it into your hand, eyeing the sparkling fluid and thinking about the way the contents would do its little all-too-familiar dance on your tongue. 

“Well, you know what they say,” he says, pouring a glass for himself, “drunk words are sober thoughts,” he finishes while dragging out the last word—downing the first shot in one quick swig. You follow his lead soon thereafter, refusing to let your mind linger on what he had just said and the viable likelihood of you spewing out the words that could just make or break your longstanding friendship and lead to a lifetime of regret. 

Obviously, everything’s going fine and dandy for you.

-

The next 20 minutes consisted of a plethora of superficial questions that would vary from:

“What's your favorite song lyric you can think of off the top of your head?”

Your head shoots up as if the lightbulb in your head just flashed on. “Easy. Shawty’s like a melody in my head that i cant keep out got me singing like-“

He lunges over to clap a hand over your mouth before you could sing the next line. “Na na na na no Y/N. Please stop.”

Or something along the lines of:

“What character do you think I'd play in a movie?” He asks with a smug smile. 

“You’d be the second male lead that everyone secretly wants to end up with the main character because you act all sweet and kind and and genuinely cares about her but instead she chooses the other guy because something about him draws her in and it was her ‘gut instinct’ or some shit like that.”

“So I would get second male lead syndrome?” He reiterates. 

“Yes.” 

He sets his shot glass back down with a glower, clearly taken aback. “That is the biggest insult I’ve ever gotten in my entire life.”

You also couldn’t forget about:

“Oh, this one says to create a secret handshake.”

“No.” You deadpan.

“And why not?”

“Your pinky‘s the size of a vienna sausa—“ 

He smacks you square in the cheek with a pillow before you could finish your sentence. You don’t even fight back because your mind was so slow to process what he had just done. The fact that you only slept for 5 hours last night didn’t help whatsoever. Your evident lack of energy causes him to jab his finger into your side, causing a loud shriek—your fight or flight response starts kicking in as you grab the back of his neck and slam his face against the fabric of the couch cushion. 

-

Soju was never able to make the two of you full on drunk—buzzed of course, but not enough for complete incoherency. And so you both down a bottle each before finishing the first round. 

“I’m surprised we didn’t get any wild cards that round,” he says while resting his head on the couch.

You purse your lips, “You spoke too soon.” 

His eyes flash open as he cranes his neck in an attempt to see the card. “Wait actually?”

You can feel your insides churn as you read the words in front of you, and you were sure that it wasn’t the alcohol talking. “Write down the three most important things to you in a relationship for 30 seconds and then compare.”

Jimin reaches over to grab two pieces of paper and pencils while unlocking his phone to find the timer app, “Okay, I’ll put a timer on for 30 seconds starting… now.”

And so the internal monologue in your head begins. 

Three most important things… only three? That’s not anywhere near enough to suffice. Wait, what would the first one even be… oh yeah, trust. Trust is very much important yes, yes, yes. What else? Um, communication? Yes of course, that’s essential. Okay, what would the last one be? 

You sneak a glance over at Jimin. His cheek is squished against the palm of his hand, making his cheek fat (an area in which he lacked in) more prominent and the pink, plush flesh of his lips appear even bigger than they already were. 

The ceiling light emitted a faint, ambient glow—the lights and shadows hitting all the slopes and curves of his face. You never understood how someone could be so effortlessly stunning. Even the mess atop his head that’s supposed to be his hair looks purposely tousled—the ebony strands sticking up in multiple directions was framing his temples and contrasted with the honey-like hues of his skin. 

Unlike the glow that radiated from the lights of the worn-down apartment and the radiance of whatever was beyond the glass of the window behind him, everything about him seemed to glow much brighter.

“Hello, earth to Y/N, your 30 seconds is up.” He interrupts pointedly, waving a hand in front of your face.

Blinking rapidly, you shake your head as well as all preceding thoughts that definitely weren’t consuming your mind a few seconds ago, “Sorry w-what?”

He laughs at your disoriented state, “Did you finish writing your three things?”

No, I wrote your name as number 3. “Yeah, I did. You can go first though.”

He nods with a small smile. “Oh, okay then let’s see. First, I put trust. I don’t know, I think everyone puts that to be honest. After that, I put communication. I feel like that’s just a given y’know. Another thing I feel like most people would say.”

You utter a timid “mhm” under your breath albeit zoning out and being unaware of what he was saying. Opportunely, you managed to scribble out his name with the mere seconds that had passed and now you were tapping the lead point of the pencil against the paper, littering the page with a bunch of grey, little dots—incognizant to the fact that he had his eyes focused on you the whole time. 

“I didn’t really know what to put last. Three things isn’t anywhere near enough in my opinion. But at the last second, I wrote down vulnerability,” he continues.

You look up upon hearing the last word. “Oh wow, that’s good. I didn’t even think about that.”

He chuckles unabashedly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Right? I just figured. At first, I thought it would go in the same category as trust but then I thought about it more. Yeah, you can trust someone and someone can trust you, but to what extent does that all go to. Where does it start? And where does it even end? You need to be able to open up to the person I feel like. So I guess trust and vulnerability go hand in hand.”

Impressed with his words, you decide to chime in.  “Wouldn’t communication go along with it too?”

“Hm?”

You place your pencil down. “You would open up to each other by means of communication, becoming more vulnerable, and then overall gaining more trust in the end.”

His brows raise at your sudden revelation, “Wait, you’re so right, did you just wax poetic and full cycle all that?.”

You smile, “I mean I guess,” you respond humbly, “ it does make sense though, does it not?”

He hums in agreement while downing another shot, “It applies to us, right?”

You force out a chuckle, but it comes out a lot more faux-sounding than you would’ve liked. “Haha, yeah I guess it does, doesn’t it.” Once again, starting to dive deeper into the abyss of pitiful hope and unrequitedness. 

“Describe your perfect day.” He suddenly interjects.

You quirk a brow. “Didn’t I just go?”

“It’s okay, I’ll go for this one too.”

“Alright,” you say, foot tapping on the wooden floor as you look past him and out into the glass window of his living room, “well, I wouldn’t have school of course. And I think it would all depend on how I feel that day. If I was feeling particularly lazy, the day would probably consist of me binge-watching shows in bed while eating a shitton of carbs. And the other case would probably be galavanting around the city or going to an amusement park with friends.”

Jimin listens intently and smiles as you speak, causing you to avoid his stare before pigment threatened to rush to your cheeks, “Both of those scenarios sound really nice. I better be included too.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to hide the grin creeping up your cheeks, “We’ll see.”

He groans, standing up from his spot on the floor and falling onto his couch instead, “My asscheeks hurt.”

Your face contorts into a look of disgust, “And you want me to do what with that information?”

Scoffing lightly, he leans back into the cushions and tilts his head back, “It was a declaration, not a cry for help.”

“Yeah, and it’s the bony ass for me.”

His head perks up. “It’s having a flatter ass than their guy best friend for me.”

Gulping down the sad but unequivocal truth, “It’s kissing up to every teacher’s ass for me.”

His eyes narrow in pure chagrin, “It’s the crying on your teacher’s doorstep for them to round your grade for me.”

“It’s splitting your pants on orientation day for me.”

“Fuck you, people would pay to see this ass! It’s getting a concussion from falling down the main hall stairs for me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you that they waxed the floors that day!” You snap back.

“Okay, and who said it was a good idea to walk down three flights of stairs while trying to cram for a midterm? Yeah, exactly no one.” He says incisively, giving you an even bigger urge to push him off of the couch, yet you digress. 

“This could go on for hours.” You heave out.

“Is that the sound of someone giving up I’m hearing?”

“Is that the sound of a midget I’m hearing?”

“But I’m taller than you?!” He screeches petulantly, smacking your shoulder. You burst out into a fit of laughter—toppling onto the wooden floor with pure malice. 

Gasping for air, you attempt to stifle your laughter and regain your breath. “Wow, I’m on a roll today! I deserve another shot.”

He shakes his head, his anger quelling at the sight of your giddiness. “Remind me to not let you drink and play this game.”

You turn over from your side to lay on your back. “This will be the first and the last time I play this game with you.” You say almost immediately—the words involuntarily slipping from your mouth before you could stop it. 

He sinks in his spot on the couch, brows knitting at your comment. “Why?”

Sobriety crashes into you like a colossal wave —your irritation dissipates almost immediately. The exaggerated tone your voice begins to register through your head—as well as the fact that you sounded a lot more disapproving than you intended. 

Groaning at your hindered ability to think and process properly, you attempt to clear the air, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. We just... practically know everything about each other I guess. What else is there to know?”

He hums. “You sure about that?”

What? “Wait what?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles awkwardly, “next question.”

The straightforwardness of the next question causes you to quirk a brow, “How are you, really?”

His eyes widen. “Well, that’s a deep one, isn’t it?”

You smile. “A little.” 

He sighs, a small grin lacing his features, “Hm, how am I,” he affirms, adjusting himself in his spot on the couch, “I feel content with where I am right now, I guess. Things can always be better, but at the same time they could be worse too.”

Your number one defense mechanism as of late has been to constantly tease and make jokes at the poor guy—essentially using him as your own mental punching bag. He went along with it out of the assumption that it was all caused by your stress from school while you knew the true origins of your behavior. 

You smile at his optimism, "Hey, that's always good to hear."

He chuckles, shifting his position on the couch so he could face you directly, "I don't know, maybe it's the new sense of freedom. Or all the amazing people I've gotten to meet and the opportunities that are offered here. Or the fact that I'm still going to the same school as my best friend after all this damn time."

"Chim, don't get sappy on me man." You warn him while pouting exaggeratedly— slumping onto the frame of the couch while he takes a strand of your hair in between his fingers. You bask in the moment, your eyes shutting close. 

"Hey, I'm just being honest! For some reason, it all makes up for the impending student debt and draining lectures and professors that have a superiority complex as fat as their paycheck."

"Too bad their paycheck still isn't as fat as your ass."

An audible gasp coming from the only other person in the room causes your eyes to flutter open.

"Aw," he coos, ruffling the hair atop of your head, "that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night. Admit it, you love me."

Out of instinct, you opt to stick your tongue at him instead of replying with a witty comeback. You turn away from him before mumbling to yourself, "More than you'll ever know buddy."

"What was that?"

Shit. "Nothing. Next question!"

-

After twenty questions and a whopping 10 empty soju bottles later, you are quite literally about to implode.

Your eyes stare down at the card in front of you—everything that surrounds it is blurry in vision and you can audibly pinpoint the erratic beating of your heart.

The card was practically taunting you, laughing in your face. It was as if there was a sentient being in the universe who was aware of your own subconscious and the not so latent feelings you had for the boy sitting in front of you. Same said being loved to constantly place you in a state of trepidation concerning your current situation—your blood pressure skyrocketing—nearly feeling the muscular pink thing inside of you thrusting itself against your ribcage.

The imminent headache was starting to spread towards your temples and you practically felt like you could feel your brain shifting inside your head at this point. Although you felt groggy, you were certain that your heart was at a rate that is way faster than it should be. And sitting on your legs has caused them to lose all feeling from the tips of your toes all the way up to your kneecaps. One attempt at standing and you would come crashing to the floor in a heartbeat.

The white card with crimson red writing made sure to leave an impact, making you feel the most ridiculed you’ve felt all night which says a lot—leaving your mind in a complete frenzy although you refused to let it be known.

To say you were mad was an understatement. Out of all the times throughout the entirety of this hour and a half that you were playing this game, he decided that now would be the best time to use his 'dig deeper' card.

There it was.

Admit something.

"Okay fine, I was the one who stuck pink hair dye in your shampoo last semester."

"Y/N, did you really think I didn't know? C’mon I know there’s something else in there.”

You scowl, brows furrowing, “Why would I keep something from you?”

“Why are you getting so defensive over this?”

"What the hell is there for me to admit to you?" You snap back in exasperation, the harsh tone of your voice rendering the two of you speechless. 

He averts his gaze, closing his eyes while inhaling a deep sigh. "Ever since we started college, why have you been treating me so differently?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, stumped. Yet you refuse to wither out of this. 

 "I– are you mad?"

"No. Of course not," he quickly digresses, softening his gaze, "I just noticed after all this time that you've only been acting differently towards me. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong Jimin. You never have."

His eyes narrow, giving you yet another indecipherable look, "I'm using my 'dig deeper' card." He deadpans.

And so you sat there. Fiddling the card in between your fingers, feigning nonchalance. You were very much on the brink of cracking your facade—your sanity practically crumbling as the minutes ticked by. You didn’t think you’d last this long, to be honest. Yet an hour and a half proved to be way too straining on you in a variety of different ways.

He simply sat there with his hands folded on the table—void of emotion, whistling a familiar top 50s tune you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You considered shifting your focuses on trying to comprehend the tune—hoping it would ease the concerning state of apprehension you were in. But then you assured yourself that you haven't reached that level of patheticism yet.

Even though you both had probably been sitting in complete silence for about two minutes now —practically anyone else could detect was the crickets chirping outside his apartment, yet the only sound that was filling your eardrums was your own conscience telling you how idiotic you were being.

This was it. There was no point in trying to weasel yourself out of this situation. If you tried, your more than futile attempt could very well end up causing more problems than if you were to go with the latter.

So instead of constantly wracking your brain with witty banter and deceitful ways to gaslight your feelings for the man sitting in front of you, you come to terms with the fact that your time had run out. You internally commend yourself for putting up a good fight, as well as internally become accosted at how immature you were at handling the whole situation.

You sharply inhale through your nose, peering at the man sitting in front of you as his eyes meet your own, "Alright."

He offers you a small yet empathetic smile in return, giving you the tiniest sliver of reassurance. His hand pats the couch cushion next to him, motioning for you to sit down next to him.

You push yourself up from the floor, immediately propping a leg onto the couch to avoid your numb limbs to be the cause of your embarrassment.

You inhale slowly through your nose and out through your mouth. "This is going to sound really absurd. Like more than absurd. Possibly borderline hysterical." No Y/N, why would you say that?

He interjects, placing a hand on your forearm. "I'm beginning to think you're becoming borderline hysterical," he lets out a small chuckle, "slow down Y/N. One thought at a time."

Your jaw is still slack open due to your previous rambling. "I'm sorry, I just—I don't think I've ever felt this anxious… around you at least."

He bites his lip, eyes trailing away from yours as he tries to think of a way to aid you, "Will it help if I turn around?

"Maybe." You reply timidly, smiling to yourself as his back came into view.

“It’ll be pretty funny if we don’t remember this in the morning,” you start off with, “I shouldn’t be saying that either I’m sorry. Stupid alcohol.”

He snickers at your drunken state, it was adorable. “Pretend I’m not here Y/N. Like you’re talking to a wall.” He advises, back still turned. 

You nod although he can’t see you. “Okay. Well, hi Mr. Wall. I’ve been keeping a secret from my best friend for as long as I’ve known him and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve suppressed it all this time in hopes that it would eventually fade away, and it almost did. No really, it actually almost did. But now it’s back again and all the same feelings came, but like freaking twofold. No, tenfold. No, like a hundred fucking fold.”

Jimin tries excruciatingly hard to stifle his laughter, cupping a hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t move and distract you.

“I’m literally in love with my freaking best friend when I know he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever. If he did, we wouldn’t be where we are right now because I am so shitty at hiding my feelings that I am more than certain that I’ve let the truth slip a couple of times.” You say all in one breath.

He slowly detaches his hand from his mouth, eyebrows raising in disbelief in the words you had just said. His body urges him to turn around. Yet you continue to think out loud. So he digresses. 

“Towards the end of high school, I think my feelings started to become more dormant because I had become more concerned over finishing high school and transitioning into college. I was content and I convinced myself that my feelings were fleeting for once.” You begin with, allowing whatever thoughts that you consumed your mind to spill all out for Mr. Wall to hear. 

You sigh, taking a pillow from his couch and squeezing onto it for dear life. “That was until we ended up getting into our top picks and going to the same school. I couldn’t believe it. My stupid head tried to convince me that life had always just paired the two of us up together for some reason. And that maybe, just maybe I had a chance. But whatever I guess. I don’t know.”

A notification causes your eyes to trail to your phone. Really, Professor La, this is not a good time to tell me to finish my research paper. You swipe at the notification, revealing your lock screen—a photo of you and Jimin at an amusement park back at your hometown, sporting matching university hoodies with bright smiles on your faces that were captured mid-laughter.

Setting your phone down, you lean into the couch—letting your head fall into the cushions as your eyelids slowly start to droop shut. “What also didn’t help is how college life just seems to suit him perfectly. He just always looks so happy now. Like yeah, he’s always been a social butterfly. Yet in addition to that he has top notch grades. He charms professors. For fuck’s sake the Dean treats him like a son. His passion, his laughter, his love, his happiness. It’s always been so infectious. But college just made the effect he has on people grow even stronger. I-,” you stammer, pausing breathlessly, “it just looks like he truly belongs here. Like college was just made for him.”

He sits there in a complete stupor—still trying to process all the words that he had just heard. His body is itching to turn around, take you into his arms, whisper soft nothings into your ear. Anythings. Everything. He never wanted you to feel anxious about his feelings for you ever again.  

“Mr. Wall, that was a lot, I’m sorry. But I’m really… really tired.” You utter quietly, a long yawn escaping your lips. You fall asleep. 

Ten seconds pass until Jimin sneaks a glance over his shoulder, scanning your body as he notices your shut eyes and timid grip on his pillow. 

“Y/N?”

You’re unresponsive. 

He grins at the sight. Getting up from his seat, he makes his way toward you—slowly prying the pillow from your grasp as you carefully slides his hands under your body and picks you up from the couch. 

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder as he carries you to his bedroom. You are very much still asleep, yet you always had the habit of needing something to hold onto while you were unconscious. 

Kicking the sheets aside, he makes room for you to lie down as he gently places you onto his bed. He quickly scurries to the other side, slipping into the covers himself as he lays down beside you. 

The sudden contact causes you to shift in your sleep—suddenly wrapping an arm around his torso. He lays there, completely stunned at your actions and begins to heavily debate whether he should give into his desires or not. 

The internal conflict lasts about two seconds before he turns to his side—placing his free hand on the small of your back and pulling you into his chest, leaving a small pocket of space in between your two bodies. 

Unknowingly, you close the gap almost immediately—nestling your head into the crook of his neck as your arm that was lazily slung over his torso starts to tighten its hold around his body. 

His arm slings over your unconscious form, his hands making his way to your back as he basks in the foreign feeling, being this close in proximity to you. It was different. Yet it almost felt like it was where he belonged. And he was scared because he didn’t want it to end. 

While gently placing his chin on the top of your head, he begins to stroke your hair as fatigue starts to wash over him as well. “Things will make sense soon Y/N, I swear.”

He retracts, craning his neck in an attempt to see your sleeping form. His attempt proves to be futile when an indecipherable groan leaves your lips—brows knitting slightly and lips curling downward from the sudden lack of warmth. 

His soft laughter fills the room as he obliges—carefully pressing a small kiss to your forehead before reverting back to his original position. 

“For now, just know that I love you too.”

-

The intolerable throbbing sensation in your temples caused you to stir in your sleep.

The only events you could recall from last night was being at Jimin’s apartment, playing that stupid card game, and downing the most soju you’ve ever had in one sitting.

It only occurs to you that you’re wrapped in someone’s arms when you open your eyes and the only thing in your periphery is a firm chest, steadily heaving each time they take a breath.

Your legs were messily entangled with theirs—arms slung around each other’s torsos as you felt a strange yet dense weight on the top of your head.

Carefully, you try to pry yourself from their grasp albeit your haphazard state of mind. You pull back ever so slightly, making sure not to wake them up in the process, discovering that the excess weight was actually their chin that had been resting on top of your head. Their fingers were still twined in your hair as you pulled back, making you freeze in your spot. Curious, you tilt your head, peering upwards and catching a glimpse of their face.

The boy is undoubtedly still asleep. Eyes shut and ample lips slightly parted. Your timid movement, to your luck, which hadn’t phased him in the slightest, as he was unperceptive and nearly immobile at this point. 

If it weren't for your abhorrent headache and the even more abhorrent symptoms that had rooted from your hangover, it would be an understatement to say that you would be freaking out right about now.  In reality,

You'd be in a complete state of manic.

Because of the fact that your body was paying for the despicable amount of alcohol you had decided to consume the night before, an influx of any intense emotion would cause your body to exacerbate itself even more. And the last thing you needed was to puke all over the poor guy after sleeping together for the first time.

While you were physically experiencing withdrawals, your mind felt slightly inebriated nonetheless. You weren't quite sure if it was from last night's affluence of liquor or the way everything's starting to come back to you. And the longer your eyes linger on the boy's face, the clearer everything starts to become. From the foolish banter to your childish outbursts leading up to your intoxicated yet conscientious confession.

You left your heart all out for him to witness last night, and now the only thing you could do is wait for a response.

Taking a deep sigh, you retreat back to his body—deciding not to ponder any longer on the matter and wait until you had felt physically capable of doing so. 

-

Steaming hot streams of water splash against his back. He stands under the shower head while massaging soap into his hair, replaying the events that had happened last night on loop. 

The words that left your mouth were engraved into his mind as they involuntarily kept replaying over and over again—particularly your inebriated confession, which kept garnering the same reaction of both hope and frustration within him. 

The solution should be simple. In reality it is, yet he still felt so internally scattered. 

“—he doesn’t see me in that light nor will he ever...”

That was the singular line that he just couldn’t wrap his head around. There was never a moment where he would hesitate to drop everything he was doing to be there for you and make sure you were okay. 

Yes, he knew that you two were best friends and that it was natural. But what best friend drives across town at 2am because you had the stomach flu and your parents were out of town. Keep in mind it was his mom’s birthday that day. 

What best friend ditches their prom date when yours had stood you up. Or coax the drama teacher into giving you the lead in the school play because he saw the ways your eyes glimmered when you saw the words ‘High School Musical’. And damn, weren’t you justthe greatest Gabriella he’s ever seen.

Little did you know that in reality, he always wanted you to be the Gabriella to his Troy, and not Chad. Yet you seemed to have believed the latter all along. 

But in the end, what the hell kind of best friend remains oblivious to the fact that for years, past exes have consistently broken up with him for the same reason.

“Your heart belongs to someone else.”

Or alternatively,

“I’m not the right person for you.”

Straight A’s don’t mean shit when no teacher has ever taught him how to realize that he was irrevocably in love with his best friend, and that she had always, almost candidly, felt the same way.

He shuts his eyes tightly, hands aggressively running through his soaked hair as he comes to a conclusion. 

Being strangers could never be an option. Being friends, or moreso, best friends was fine. But that’s it. It was just fine. It was normalcy. It has been for years.

And that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore.

-

Your arm traces along the fabric of the bedsheets, alerting you that there was a void of space and lack of warmth from the other side of the bed. Your eyes spring open to see that there was no one laying beside you. 

A long yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your limbs, body sprawling all over the bed before selfishly tugging the sheets all to yourself. 

Soft hissing from which you assume was coming from his shower was confirmed to be true when your eyes spot the closed bathroom door and the small beam of light that was emitting from it. 

A small, folded piece of paper that was taking up the space of where his head was resting was where your eyes shift to next. 

y/n <3

You knit your brows together, knowing that it was most likely put there strategically rather than a piece of trash that had slipped out of his pocket.

It was addressed to you after all and so you grab it while making a futile attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your throbbing headache and churning insides had significantly died down. Regardless of your recovery time you internally make a promise to yourself to never get this wasted ever again. The chances of you sticking to it?  Highly debatable considering the current situation you’re in. 

Blinking rapidly, you finally are able to decipher whatever is written onto the paper. And it says:

hi y/n, i can already tell by the looks that you’re giving me that you already despise this game and im sorry. all i wanna say is that by the time you read this, i hope that we remain close as ever even though what i plan on saying tonight could obliterate all of that. i wanted to play this game bc i know we’re both hiding stuff from each other and it’s about time we get it out. at least for me. whatever happens, i love you. always will. 

- chim :)

EDIT: for fuck’s sake y/n i’m FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO I WAS SUPPOSED TO CONFESS TO U FIRST LOSER NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND T-T

-

��Finally awake?” You hear a familiar voice call out. He walks out of the bathroom, fully clothed (to your dismay) while drying his hair with a towel, eyes immediately softening as they connect with yours. 

You swallow down your nerves, “Yeah, I’ve been.”

He walks over to the edge of the bed, eyes shifting to the piece of paper in your hand before reverting his focus back to your face, “What are you reading there?” 

“I don’t know,” you huff, feigning ignorance, “why don’t you tell me.”

A soft chortle leaves his lips as he throws the towel to the side, smiling as wide as ever as he jumps onto the vacant spot on his bed right next to you.

Propping himself up, he sits against the headboard, letting out a content sigh before looking down at you once more. “Come here.” He says, reaching his arms out in hopes that you’d fill the idle gap.

And you do, shaking the sheets off of your body as you place yourself in his arms, freshly revelling in the comfort. You wrap your arms snugly around his waist, letting your head rest on his chest while he clutches onto you tightly. 

“I’m sorry for pushing the subject so hard onto you last night.” He starts off with, “I guess I just never fathomed the fact that you could return the feeling, and I was too stubborn to even admit it to you in the first place.” He expresses while stroking your back,  “I didn’t mean to confront you so harshly, it’s unlike me, and I’m really sorry about it Y/N.”

“Do you think I’m mad about that Jimin?” You inquire, just barely above a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, peering down at you, “Are you?”

“Of course not. I should be the one apologizing anyways for being even more stubborn and resorting to such childish ways.” You disclose whilst mentally beating yourself up.

“Hey, there’s no use in beating ourselves up over it. Look where we are now.” 

“Where exactly are we Jimin?” You inquire timidly, head still resting on his chest. 

His fingers brush over the base of your chin, gently tilting your head up until your eyes found his. 

“Y/N, it’s honestly hard for me to formulate the words but all I know is that I think I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for a long time, no scratch that, I have been for a long time,” he says all in one breath, making you smile at how high-strung he was acting. 

The grin remains plastered onto your face, “I’m not drunk still right because did I just hear you say that you’ve been in love with me?”

“Y/N…” he whines, jutting out his bottom lip as he drags out the last syllable of your name.

You can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Go on please.” 

He bites his lip, “I honestly had a whole speech prepared in the shower but I forgot all of it.”

“It’s alright, I barely remember half the stuff I spewed out last night,” you chortle.

He chuckles, “Well, if you were wondering, you’re cute as fuck when you’re piss drunk.”

The compliment makes your breath hitch in your throat—your heart starting to pick up speed dangerously quick.

A few seconds pass, allowing you to slightly gain back some of your composure, “Why did you um– I mean– when do you think you fell in love with me?” You stutter. 

“I was actually trying to figure that out too,” he starts, “in the shower. Well, this is going to sound dumb,” he admits, sharply exhaling out of his nose, “But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time.”

“I think so… but what about it?”

He nods. “I still remember that night so vividly for some reason,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “There were haunted houses all over the park. And they were all different themes. And I think the first one we went into together was—”

“The clown one.” You deadpan. 

“Yeah!” He beams, laughing at the way you shudder after your words, “Anyways, you were walking behind me with your hands on my shoulders, but you had a razor grip and I thought my arms were going to fall off, so I made you walk next to me instead. We had our arms interlocked and you were gripping onto me so closely and you had your head buried in my shoulder the whole time.” He explains, the smile never ceasing to leave his lips.

You don’t take his eyes off of him—smiling sweetly as he explains the retrospective moment that you never knew had held so much significance to him.

“All of a sudden, you grabbed my hand, and honestly, I think that was the scariest part of the whole experience,” he admits, chuckling softly. 

“But then I intertwined fingers with you. And I liked it. Thinking about it now, I probably loved it. It felt almost borderline euphoric. Like as if I was riding a high, and when we detached hands, it felt like there was just something missing. And I guess I never really put the pieces together because it just became a normal thing after that. And when our skinship kept evolving from there, I just kept dismissing it over and over again. Like as if that feeling was a normal thing to happen between friends, because I genuinely thought it was. Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.” He finishes, giving you a close-mouthed smile while he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

Astounded was an understatement. You couldn’t believe that you both had been suppressing these feelings for so long. Yet somehow, this whole confession didn’t seem out of place or time, it was as if everything that had happened beforehand had led up to this very moment. 

“Wow, Jimin I– I don’t know what to say.” You reply.

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I’m sorry for making you wait for so long, after all.”

You interject, “Please don’t say sorry, I think we were definitely both in the wrong here.”

He smiles, except this time his eyes crinkle up all the way, “Alright, but can you at least let me make it up to you?”

“I’m listening.” You jokingly reply.

“Let’s go on a date,” he declares brazenly, “but tonight, after we’ve recovered from our hangovers and what not.”

The corners of your lips upturn so high that your cheekbones sting, “Jimin, I’d love to–”

“Ah, wait! I’m not done.” He cuts you off, head inching forward, leaning in so close that you could feel his breath tickle your ear and the heat rushing up to your cheeks. 

“And at the very end of the night, I’ll make certain that you won’t be able to walk normally by tomorrow.” He whispers into your ear— voice low and full of lust.

Shivers run through your body as it feels like all the wind had just gotten knocked out of you. Yeah, this was definitely worth the wait.

-

-

-

MASTERLIST ; SEQUEL

[poptod]

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 11, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Thunder for the God.

Notes: this is it! the final chapter. I wanna say thank you to a few people cause I rarely ever respond to comments directly, mostly cause i never know what to say, but @diasimar, @edteche2, @moon-stars-soul, @crewman-penelope, @hah0106, thank you so fuckin much for your comments!! it really kept me going while i was working and really motivated me. im rly worried this last chapter is gonna disappoint but i gotta post it at some point! WC: 1.7k

+

A feast was held. Of course it was––the only way Egyptians knew how to celebrate was with plenty of food, plenty of booze, and lots of sex. Already people wrote songs of your exploits, performing them as they waited for you and Ahk to appear in the courtroom now filled to the brim with the people of Memphis. Clashing drums and lutes accompanied by harps and singing voices all came from behind the walls, but the room Ahk prepared himself in remained mostly quiet, occupied only by you and himself. Piye was busy tending to the citizens with the help of Gyasi, who offered his services in helping the now-blind vizier.

"I never thought to see this day," Ahk said softly, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His outfit, which had taken about an hour to get on (plus makeup), left him the striking image of the Pharaoh you had first met––drowned in gold, in gemstones, reeking of rich, spoiled tastes.

"What, that you'd be attending a party in your own honor?" You asked with a chuckle.

"No," he said, turning to you, "I didn't think I'd see you willingly stand beside me."

"I didn't either. I hated you."

"Rightfully so," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, again, for how I treated you."

"You could've been a lot nicer while kidnapping me."

"I know. But you're happy now... right?"

"Yes," you said, grinning. "What would you do if I wasn't?"

"Abandon everything," he said with a careless shrug. "Run away with you. Leave it all behind."

"Even with a feast outside those doors?" You asked as you stepped closer. He took advantage of that, pulling you in by your waist and smiling when your chests met.

"Well, I might have to go to that first. But afterwards, I would go anywhere for you. Do anything. You are mine, now," he said, growing soft as his lips brushed against your temple, "and I have fought long to prove it."

"I think you belong to me more than I belong to you," you chuckled.

"Perhaps you're right," he said, swaying with you to the muted tunes of harpstrings. "I don't mind either way as long as you love me."

"I do," you mumbled.

"Say it," he said, parting from you to look you in the eye. His hand came up to your face, stroking the soft skin of your cheek as he gazed into you, searching for words he had longed for all this time. "Please."

"I love you, Ahk."

There he went again––tears down his face, dripping into and caught by the smile that spread across his rosy lips. He leant in to kiss you, still wet with those salty tears, but you happily returned his affections.

Until his kiss grew deep, devolving into him biting at your neck again, pressing himself against your body till your back inevitably hit a wall. He sandwiched you there, running his hands from your chest to your hips and back up to your face.

"Now then, your people wait for you. Don't disappoint them by not showing up," you warned him, but there was little resolve in your tone, already torn up by the blush pervading your cheeks.

"I'll be quick," he muttered against your skin, followed by a laugh when you groaned.

"But you can also do this later, when you can take your time," you said, but couldn't stop yourself from smiling even as you tried to push him away.

"I can do it twice."

"Ahk!"

"Call my name again, love," he said, drawing away from you with a shit-eating grin.

"We can do this after," you said as you fully pushed him away. "Even during, depending how the evening goes."

"I like how you think," Ahk said, offering his hand to you with a cocked chin raised high. "Ready to go?"

You nodded.

The doors before you opened, and a short walk up to the throne led you to overlook the crowd, scanning over every citizen's face whose eyes fell to you. Without a word spoken from you or Ahk, silence fell in the hall crowded past the brim. Torches flanked either side of the long room, illuminating the moving heads, as well as marking the searing smoke of meat and the plates of food presented out on the many tables.

It was not unlike the feast for Amun, but this time the only human images standing on a podium were you and Ahk. No more golden statues. Now what remained was the Pharaoh in all his glory, glowing as though blessed with an ethereal light, sheer silk with sewn gold cascading from him like a comet trailing the sky.

Once most everyone's attention was on the Pharaoh, he spoke.

"I know that much of my rule has not been through peaceful times," he said, meeting the eyes of every listener. "I thank you all for your patience with me. We have seen the rising of my brother's empire, and it has ended in ruin––we have seen the death of three Pharaohs, myself included."

A quiet laugh murmured through the crowd. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Piye sticking to the wall by themself. You jogged over, whispering a beckoning, before taking their hand and personally leading them up the pedestal.

"I am sure you have all heard of what I've done. The events that have come to pass. Whether or not you have the whole of the story, or any true part of the story, is what worries me. I want all of you to know why I did what I did––why, exactly, I am not a heretic. You deserve that much."

Ahk spoke as though conversing with an old friend, something you were sure made his approval rating amongst the populace skyrocket. He continued that tone of voice, that familiarity, as he recounted the long events of the past few months, from your appearance in the castle (which he labelled as a gift from the Gods), to Ma'at herself locking Amun into the sky. They all listened closely, believing every word of their loving Pharaoh.

"I did what I did to protect myself, my people, and my friends. They were necessary evils. But now I have Ma'at's blessing, and I take my rightful place as your Pharaoh," he said with a growing confidence that boomed in his projected voice. "I am Ra's Son once more."

An eruption of cheers and shouts burst your ears, and you grinned from ear to ear, glancing to your side to watch for Ahk's reaction. He was smiling as well, prideful as he deserved. Piye held their own small smile as well.

Instruments came back in full swing, humming and thrumming with the vibrations of the tall chamber. Though at first they were the melodies of many songs, playing one after the other without pause, they converged into a tune that filled your head, seeping into the thoughts of every listener. You paid little attention to the words they sang in perfect harmonies till a word caught your attention––your name. Looking out across the citizens of Memphis, of Kemet, you realized they were singing about you.

The fire that reigns on the burning King will never yield to the sword! The spells that remain pour down in the rain as the Nile boils in the sea

What wonders they bring! This thunder for the God, Amoke and the hundreds that sing the name of the God, Amoke

Pray to the earth for a saving grace As the magi searches the planes The dead, they seek The living antique a God of his own who can't rest on his throne Call to the name of the holy

We sing to thee! Sunset for the God, Amoke Sing praise for thee! Thunder for the God, Amoke Thunder for the God, Amoke! The beauty of the God, Amoke!

Your mouth hung open as you watched them sing, ignorant to Ahk, who was now smiling at your shocked expression.

"... and so will you be remembered," Ahk murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he came up behind you. "A God for all of time.”

“My Amoke."

~+~

You had access to great temples––to places of worship hundreds of years old, intricately detailed spells shown on every wall, bases of golden statues littered with flowers and offerings. Instead you stuck to your tiny altar, hidden away in one of the smaller storage rooms not in use. Ahk didn't quite understand it, but he allowed it happily, and left you alone to your devices.

The only item standing on your altar was a tiny statuette in the form of Mahjur. If Ahk found out that was who you were praying to, you weren't sure what he'd do, so for the time being you kept it secret. Besides that, it was nothing more than a table you set incense and tiny plates of food and water on.

It was the only light in the room––the tiny rushlight, the lit incense drawing smoke into the air. Layers of it fell above your head, knelt low in respect of the God who had helped you.

Physical feeling fell away, and in that moment, your forehead pressed to the table, you realized the many prayers you'd sent into the stranger of an underworld were being answered at last.

A single, high note rang in your head as the image of open, glowing eyes pierced your thoughts.

"Is Ahk ssssafe?" They asked in a whisper in your head that you could barely hear.

Yes, you thought, keeping your eyes closed to maintain the connection.

"... you haavvvvve.. other questionss... correct?"

Amun is an all-powerful God, yes?

"Yes."

How did we escape him? How did we hide away? Why did he not pluck me from the sky? How did we survive the ire of a creator God?

"Ahk hasss cccertain experiencess... with Gods. He issss ssssmart. He isss untraceable by annnny Gods' mmagggic."

How? You pleaded.

"He hass died annnnd come back. He issss... undead. No longer human. Nnnnot entirrrrely."

You swallowed thick, forcing yourself not to open your eyes from surprise.

And Piye?

"A mmmmagi. Invvvvissssible. Too... absorbed innn the world.. to see," they hummed, glowing eyes still probing your thoughts.

... and me?

There was silence for a moment, and the eyes blinked, but remained within your head.

"You... are not.. hhhhuman," they whispered.

Your eyes flew open.

What?

––––––

If you want to hear the song I wrote about in this story, I actually recorded it and you can find it here.

[sickly-sweet-imagines]

[valentines headcanons] Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Katsuki being asked out by reader for valentines and then getting grumpy, which makes reader ask him out even more intensely and get his friends into the scheme

OH CUTE yes of course!

– – – – –

Well

Your first attempt was an attempt, for sure

“Hey, Bakugo, will you be my valentine?” “Huh?” “I asked if you- uh- wanted to be my valentine” “WH- I- NERD-”

He then proceeded to cover the training area you were in with soot in his frantic escape, not giving you an answer

He has done nothing but growl and glare at you since it happened

You would’ve thought that he was upset by the question and now hated you if it weren’t for his friends telling you about how red he keeps going when he thinks about it

Knowing about that changed your outlook a bit

And gave you an idea for a plan

You wanted to try and get his friends to help you ask him again- maybe if you made it more showy (read: he can’t just cause a bunch of explosions and run away when he starts to blush) you’d get better luck with hearing an answer

Honestly, it was pretty easy getting all of them on board

Denki and Mina seemed like they’d been preparing for this for months (had they? Were you that obvious? Was Bakugo that obvious?)

Kirishima was also on board pretty quick, you’re pretty sure he just really likes seeing all his friends happy and confident and he knows this is gonna get Bakugo motivated

Sero just seemed like he wanted an excuse to slap Bakugo with some tape but hey that’s better than nothing (and he did seem like he wanted to help you two get together... Even if getting Bakugo with tape was a first priority)

Denki and Mina take charge in the brainstorming process, explaining a whole elaborate scenario in which you would confess and they’d be strategically positioned holding flowers or banners to make sure Bakugo couldn’t just dip and pout again

This only makes you more certain that they already had this planned

It worked out in your favor, though- it meant you didn’t have to worry about trying to think of how to involve everyone in the confession without it being awkward or too cheesy

The two of them even had banners made already

How did they find the time to do all this? Without even asking you?

Regardless

You’re in the same spot you were in earlier that day, with the others scattered around the training grounds with whatever accessory Denki and Mina had made for them

Now you just had to wait for Bakugo to show up

“Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Well... Now or never

“Will you be my valentine?”

His face turns pink (and this time you get a good look at it since he doesn’t immediately start blowing things up)

He is obviously trying to figure whose face would be easiest to explode and propel himself off of

The way his hands are starting to spark isn’t exactly subtle

When he realizes he’s cornered, he sighs (well... It’s a yell, but it’s his ‘sigh’ yell)

“Yeah, I’ll be your dumb valentine.”

In your excitement you kiss his cheek before making yourself comfortable against his chest

He stiffens from the affection and his body temperature skyrockets from how much he’s blushing

“Fuckin’ nerd”

Apparently calling you a nerd is how he copes with blushing

Cute...

After a moment, he finally recovers, and even with your head on his chest you can feel the way he’s rolling his eyes at you

“Tch. You didn’t have to do all this shit, y’know.” “You weren’t going to stay long enough to answer me otherwise.” “Whatever. Nerd.”

[fijiangecko]

High Notes

A/N: After a long hiatus (once again), here’s my latest piece. It isn’t super well edited, but I hope you all like it!

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,100+

~

Weed. Mary Jane, grass, marijuana, the crooked rope, the wacky tobacky - whatever you call it, you've got it. Unfortunately, that means hiding it during room checks at the dorms, but it wasn't hard in any sense to hide it. Iida doesn't have a keen eye for drugs as he has no experience with them (and he'd like to keep it that way). On the other hand, Sero helped you disguise the scent and gave you a few tips on how to keep everyone off your tail. Weirdly enough, when school started you immediately caught on that he was a stoner, but it didn't seem like anyone else caught it. Not even the Bakusquad, which both of you were apart of.

"So are we smoking tonight?" Sero whispers as he walks alongside you to lunch. You were lagging behind the rest of the group.

"That's the plan." You respond. He nods. Everyone had decided to go out for lunch since it's the weekend and your only time to relax. The mall wasn't busy per say, but it's wasn't slow. The crowds were sparse so it was easy to keep up with Katsuki, who was leading the group.

You watched him carefully as he moves; anytime his head turns back and you got a profile view of his face your stomach does flips. How can someone be so handsome and yet act like a demon. Even though he was a cocky son of a bitch, you respect his drive and motivations. You just wish that you could get him to notice you. In class you were just average, and everything about him was exemplary. It sucks even harder because you put everything you have on the table for school, and it's just not good enough. You feel inadequate: for his attention, for the school and most importantly to become a hero. And that's why you smoke.

It takes the edge off whenever things start heading downhill. It helps ease the pain and let's you forget about the world for a moment. Especially when Sero's around. People may not see him as front and center but that dude's funny as fuck. He's quick to a joke and always knows the best comedic timing. He's a really nice guy and you're glad he's your best friend.

"So where we eating Mina?" The pinky turns to you with a wide smile.

"There's this really yummy ramen place just up ahead. They got it all, I'm telling you."

"It's really good you'll like it." Kiri chimes in.

"Oh, so I see you two have been here before… perhaps together??" You wiggle your eyebrow suggestively.

"BRO ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!" Kaminari can't handle sexual tension. Kiri slaps him in the chest.

"Shut up man someone could hear you, and no. We aren't. I came here with my parents." You, Sero and Kaminari were laughing your asses off as you entered the restaurant, trying hard to contain the fits of giggles so it wasn't distracting to other patrons.

You all sat down in an unfortunate position. You got a corner seat with Sero to your left, but Katsuki in front. His scowl was unchanged since arriving, but somewhere deep in those scarlet eyes you can tell he's having a good time. 

Dinner goes off without a hitch. Everyone enjoys their noodles and has a good time talking. Every now and then you steal a glance at the blonde, but he is always looking elsewhere. It's not like you want to get caught staring at him so he's finally get the idea you were in to him ... course not.

"You need to stop being so obvious dude." Sero talks with a mouthful.

"Shut up I'm not obvious. I'm just looking around." His face dead pans.

"Uhuh." You both laugh to yourselves and don't catch the jealous look on Bakugou's face.

After dinner the group heads back to the dorms to have a movie night, but first you were gonna go change into PJs. Everyone separated to their rooms to get changed.

"I'm just going to bed." You caught Katsuki talking to Kiri.

"C'mon man! It'll be fun! You never bail on movie nights even though you claim to hate them." His scowl deepened.

"No. I'm not hanging out with you shitheads I wanna get some quality sleep."

"Says the guy who goes to bed at 8 every night. It's the weekend! Hang out with us!" Kiri's plea’s don't seem to be doing much, but you decide to step in.

"Movie nights not the same without your snarky comments, you can't bail on us Bakugou." You stick your lip out slightly and slump your shoulders in a pout.

"God, fine! Stop fucking pestering me." Everyone erupts into hoots and hollers while missing the small blush on Katsuki’s face. The time had come for everyone to split up and put on PJ’s , so you opted for the stairs since you ate some extra food tonight and Sero follows you, which Katsuki notices.

"Should we hit it now or later?"

"Uhh, I guess now. I'm prolly gonna pass out towards the end of this movie anyway."

"Sure [Y/N], Mrs. 'I can't handle more than two hits without going fucking insane' ". He snickers at your face starting to turn red.

"Damn dude, wasn't expecting to get fucking roasted tonight. Shit." Embarrassment levels are skyrocketing but it's all in good fun. He wasn't wrong though. You usually get all active when you smoke more than normal. "I'll just have to show you up then." You smirk at him.

"Oh a challenge!! You're on! Hopefully the others don't catch on." He wiggles his eyebrows. 

You scoff at the thought, "they haven't caught us yet," you walk through the door from the stairwell to the 3rd floor, "and I don't think they will." You both laugh. An elevator sing catches you off guard.

Katsuki had just gotten off to go to his room and heard you two talking. His face flushes red, eyes burning with anger. He doesn't say anything as he stomps to his room. Your heart is pounding and the impending doom of a major fuck up in your (nonexistent) relationship slams into you like a car.

“Fuck,” your knees give out and you fall to the floor, staring at the carpet. “God damnit Sero. GOD DAMNIT!” Tears start to well at the bottom of your eyelid.

“Hey,” Sero knells next to you, “it’s okay. I bet he only caught part of the conversation.” He grabs your shoulders and tries to get you to stand up. He walked in a few seconds after you and didn’t fully see what was going on at first.

“I don’t think you understand, he caught the last sentence. He looked like he wanted to kill me.” Sero’s eyes soften at the explanation; he’s known about your crush since you became best friends. In fact, that’s the thing that probably qualified him as your best friend. No one else knew about it and he wasn’t intending on telling anyone soon.

“Let’s get to your room and forget about it for now. Everyone’s gonna be waiting on us if we take too long. It’ll be good to forget about this and figure it out later.” He finally hoists you up and the both of you linger to your room where you change in the bathroom and he changes with an extra set of clothes he left at one point. After getting all changed, you pull out the bong and the little tupperware container of weed and take a couple hits.

...scratch that. A lot of hits; you smoke almost the whole container and Sero takes little to none of it.

“[Y/N], hey. Chill out a little. We’re just trying to have a good time, not get caught.” He takes the bong and starts to clean up a bit.

“You’re right,” you nod while shutting your eyes, trying to let it sink in (even though you know it’s gonna hit hard in a couple minutes). “Let’s go have fun, with our friends and forget that my crush thinks that we’re fucking.”

“You got it.” He leads the way out of your room, but not before you swipe your wax pen and shove it in your sweatpants.

You decided to take the elevator, and much to your surprise, when it opens you see the spiky blonde hair sitting on the couch next to Kiri.

“Hey guys! Took you long enough.” He flashes his spikey teeth in a wide grin.

“The stairs really fuckin’ winded me, sorry. Took me a second to get to my room.” You felt a giggle start to bubble in the pit of your stomach, but you suppressed it for the time being.

It was definitely kicking in.

Sero caught your jaw muscles clench in an act of suppression, and only smiled in response. To an onlooker (*cough* Katsuki *cough*) it looks like Sero just blatantly checked you out. Rage starts spreading throughout his body. 

How the fuck can she fall for him?! What did I do wrong? He faces away from you all. "Turn on the fucking movie already." 

Everyone sits down and gets comfy. Mina, Kiri and Bakugou sit on one couch and Kaminari, Sero and yourself sit on another. You take a blanket before sitting down and spread it over your group. The movie starts to play and everyone has their eyes on the screen. Well… almost everyone. Katsuki continues to glare at Sero as he thinks about what he has that he himself doesn't. It's not like he's jealous or anything… totally not that.

Sometime during the movie you lay your head down on Sero's lap and take out the wax pen from your pocket. Using the blanket as a cover, you take a small hit and turn to him and blow what little smoke there was to his face.

"Dude, you're gonna get us caught." He whisper yells as he slaps his hand over your face. Seeing him trying to act stern with you causes the giggle to erupt out of nowhere. The whole group looks at you two.

"Tapearms, you trying to suffocate her?" Katsuki growls. He instantly removes his hand from your face and the giggles won't stop. Now you're full out cackling and you can't stop.

"[Y/N], you okay babe?" Mina asks from across the room. Your face is red and it's getting harder to breath, not to mention your and are starting to hurt. You can't form words and it's starting to get to be too much.

"Shut the fuck up, we're trying to watch the movie." Katsuki stares at you, but there's no malice behind his eyes. You try and stand up to walk to the kitchen, but your knees buckle and you fall about halfway through.

"Good God man." Sero hops out of his spot and helps you to the kitchen table. It takes a couple of minutes but you get there and when you do the wax pen is once again pulled out. "No [Y/N]. No more for you." He attempts to grab the pen but you raise it up high before.

"Fuck you. It's mine and I bought it. I'll do what I please."

"Not if it's gonna get us caught. Now hand it over." You stick your lip out and pout, then slowly you bring the pen down. Before you turn it over you hastily stick it in your mouth and start to take a drag.

"DUDE!" Sero whispers shouts (more shouts) and swipes it out of your mouth. You start to cough up a cloud and he rips the pen away. Now in panic mode, Sero starts to flail his arms around to get the smoke to disapparate. You laugh at your doofus best friend and continue to cough, loudly.

"Can you two be quiet for like, two seconds?" Kaminari shouts from the couch.

"Seriously guys, we love you but we're trying to watch it." Mina sounds disappointed.

"Nah, they've ruined movie night. I'm going up." Your crush stands up and shoots a deadly glance your way.

"Bakubro, c'mon. They're a little annoying right now but it's nothing you can't handle. What if we play Mario Kart?" Kiri tries to reason. Mina and Denki look a little upset, and begrudgingly agree to the new plan.

"No. I'm fuckin tired." Watching him turn his back makes you panic. Does he hate me?

"I bet I can kick your ass in Mario Kart, Bakugou." Everyone looks in surprise at who's challenging the beast. Sero looks back at you and winks as he saunters over to the TV and sets up the game. "What do you say, Kacchan?"

He's done it now. Katsuki stomps his way back into the living room and fumes at the thought of an extra like tapearms actually beating him. "You're on fuckface." The rest of the room cheers for Bakugou's return and Mina walks over to you.

"I think I'm just gonna let the boys play this one out. Looks like Bakugou's ready to kill someone."

"Yeah, wasn't expecting Sero to challenge him. Especially when he's shit at Mario Kart." You laugh at the thought.

"Well since we're the odd ones out, how bout we grab the speaker and play some tunes." You smile at her and grab your phone to pick a playlist.

After grabbing the speaker and putting on some music (much to Katsuki's distaste) Mina and yourself go to the kitchen and start making some snacks. "So are you and Sero…?"

Your face turns into a tomato, "No, God no. He's my best friend and I could never think about him in that way."

"Mhm, well Bakugou mentioned that you guys were talking about 'not getting caught' in the stairwell." You heart nearly implodes at the mention.

"Fuck no! Absolutely- no- Mina I swear to you that that was not what we were talking about. Bakugou just caught us talking about the absolute worst time." You were stuttering and stammering to get the explanation out.

"Okay, well if you weren't talking about that, what were you talking about? What didn't you want us to find out?" Fuck! There's no way out of this one.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to talk about it. You can't tell a fucking soul, got me?" You jab a finger into her sternum and your eyes care importance in them.

"Damn [Y/N], you're acting more like Bakugou." She laughs a little to lighten the mood change.

"I'm dead serious Mina, if this gets out Sero and I are fucked. Big time. No coming back."

"Shit, okay. I got it. This stays between us." By looking into her eyes, you can tell she way being serious.

"Okay," you take a deep breath, "Sero and I smoke weed together. Like, on a weekly basis and I'm high as fuck right now." She looks shocked, but only for a couple of seconds.

"Now that you mention it, that actually makes a lot of sense." She puts a finger on her chin and taps it inquisitively. "Wait, you're high right now?"

"Yeah, had more than I should've cause I saw that Bakugou caught us saying cryptic things and now I'm pretty sure he hates me."

"Well, you should've seen him when he told us. He was furious because he was certain you guys were friends with benefits." Speaking of the devil, he shouts in victory across the room and the other boys tell him not to rub it in.

"God he's so hot." You don't realize what comes out of your mouth until it's too late 

"I KNEW IT!" Mina starts doing a happy dance. "Kirishima owes me 10,000 yen!"

"You guys fucking bet on it!?"

"Hell yeah we did. You aren't sly at all! We totally caught you staring at him, multiple times in and out of class." God, am I really that obvious?! You try and suppress the embarrassment starting to appear on your face, once again.

“Okay, well you gotta keep your mouth shut on this too! He doesn’t seem to know and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Just tell him [Y/N].” She got back to finishing up the snacks and proceeded to walk over to the common area.

“Hell no. You think I’m fucking crazy?!” You grab the other bowl of snacks and follow her.

“Considering you’re high? Yes, I think you’re crazy.” She half turns and gives you a look. “Plus, you shoulda seen the way he was talking when he told us what happened. He seemed furious at Sero when he was explaining.”

“Just because he was angry when he was explaining something doesn’t mean he likes me back. He’s angry all the time. Also, I don’t feel like being the class clown anytime soon, that job is reserved for Kaminari.”

“What are we talking about, ladies?” Denki peers over the couch. “Couldn’t help but hear my name.”

“Not much, actually.” Mina starts, and his face falls immediately. “Just talking about who’re the clowns in class.”

“Well you can count these three.” Katsuki points to the boys around him as he approaches you. You’re heart rate picks up and you lock eyes with him, but only for a second. He swipes some food from your bowl and walks to the kitchen to get some water. You’re surprised that your heart stayed in your chest as Mina gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder.

“So are you gonna play?” Sero moves the controller in your direction.

“Nah, don’t feel like getting my ass kicked.”

“See. She knows what’s good. Don’t mess with me.” Katsuki plops down on the couch and gets another race going. As he was doing that, the strum of a guitar fills the air and your eyes go wide with immediate recognition.

“No, nope. You’re going to bed.” Sero knows what’s about to happen and tries to pull you with him towards the elevator.

“Fuck you, Mina wants me to stay. Right girl?”

“Hell yeah.” She gets up and uses your other arm to start a tug of war. Your body being the rope, of course.

“Could you extras take this somewhere else?! We’re trying to fucking play a game.” Katsuki’s eyes start to twitch.

“Sorry babe, but I’m bout to sing my heart out and you’re gonna enjoy it. M’kay?” You jerk your arms back to your sides and point an accusing finger at the blonde who stares back at you in slight shock. In fact to room stares at you in shock, but you couldn’t care less. 

You loved singing, but rarely ever did it due to embarrassment. Obviously when you were high, there wasn’t much embarrassment to be had unless it was something super sensitive. If someone caught you singing it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but if someone caught you talking about Katsuki’s abs… yeah, you’d just about die.

“You, you love it how I move you,

You love it how I touch you,

My one, when all is said and done,

You’ll believe God is a woman,” You sing breathily and precisely, hitting every note as the song progresses. Unknowingly, you sway your body to the music and swirl your hips to face Mina. You stick out your hands and she hastily takes them, knowing what is about to happen. You both move closer in to one another and start to grind, dancing in front of the game screen which has been long forgotten as the horny teens take in the scene in front of them. None of them knew either of you danced, and they sure as hell had no idea that you sang like an angel. Well, more like a seductress in this situation. Even in just pajamas, the way your hips moved caused light blushes to appear on all of their faces, except Sero’s. Katsuki didn’t even bother to look at Mina as he ravaged you with his eyes, taking in your form and committing this moment to memory. He starts to get all hot, and can’t help but think impure thoughts as you dance around the room with Mina.

This continues on for a minute more when you suddenly lock eyes with Katsuki. “I'll tell you all the things you should know

So, baby, take my hand, save your soul

We can make it last, take it slow, hmm

And I can tell that you know I know how I want it, yuh

But you different from the rest

And boy, if you confess, you might get blessed” His blood is running like lava through his veins. He doesn’t want to break eye contact with you, but he so badly wants to look at your hips and whatever glances he can of your skin when your shirt rides up.

“See if you deserve what comes next

I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it” Mina giggles and cheers you on while matching your hip movements and rolls with you.

Kiri leans next to Katsuki and whispers, “Bro, just man up and ask her.” He doesn’t even look at his friend and keeps his eyes trained on you, waiting to see what you do next.

“She made direct eye contact with you, basically during the most sexual part of this song! If that doesn’t mean something, then I don’t know what does.” Kiri nudges his arm, but doesn’t get a response once again. Thinking that Bakugou’s just embarrassed, he continues to whisper, “If her and Sero really are… you know, then she would’ve looked at him!” The blonde smacks Kiri on the chest.

“You better shut the hell up before I make you. I can’t fuckin’ hear her sing when you’re running your mouth like that.” Again, his eyes don’t leave your body once. Kiri backs off and goes back to watching you.

The chorus hits a third time and this is where things get fun. Several different harmonies play at once, and you join Ariana in singing the falsettos. “You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman, yeah, yeah” Kaminari, Kiri, Sero and Mina all erupt into cheers as you finish up the song, breathing heavily as you do so. You can’t help but smile wholeheartedly at the fact that you just sang God is a Woman with perfect pitch, while dancing and while high. Not to mention you totally flirted with Katsuki during the middle of it and he didn’t even blink while you locked eyes…

Holy shit you flirted with Katuski during the middle of the song and he didn’t break eye contact with you. What the fuck is going on?!

“You were amazing [Y/N]!! I didn’t know you could sing like that!”

“Haha, yeah,” you start to rub your neck and walk over to grab a glass of water.

“Why didn’t you tell us you could sing?” Denki nearly bursts with excitement as he strides next to you.

“I didn’t think it was relevant? I mean we’ve never really talked about it so I never brought it up.” They all agree with that statement to some extent. A wave of exhaustion washes over you, and you stumble a little when walking back to the couch.

“Fuck,” you attempt to speed over to the paper towels, but a hand stops you. Bakugou grabs some and cleans up what you spilled. “I’m pretty tired guys. I think I’m gonna head up.”

“No shit, you practically spilled your drink all over the damn floor.”

“It was just water, and I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ clean it up for me.” He growls in response, but continues to clean. Sero gets up from his spot.

“I’ll go ahead and make sure [Y/N] gets to bed okay. Who knows if she’ll pass out on the way up.”

“I’m taking her up. Sit down tape dispenser.” Bakugou’s gaze clashes against Sero’s, who looks more concerned. He looks to you for approval. Your heart, once again, is trying to pounce out of its cage, but you figure it’s just Katuski trying to go to bed without anyone stopping him this time. You nod slightly, and Sero sits back down.

After throwing away some soggy paper towels, Katsuki leads the way to the elevator and you both step in. Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your head so you don’t face him fully.

“So where’d you learn to sing?” His voice is soft and calm. This is a side of him you’ve rarely seen, meaning that his is a very special moment and you sure as hell can’t fuck it up.

“My mom used to sing, so she taught me some when I was younger.” You glance at him, only to find that he’s staring right at you. Quickly you turn away and clear your throat.

“Well, it sounded good from where I was sitting.” You feel his vermillion eyes on you, but don’t look.

“Thank you.” The soft chime of the elevator indicates it’s time to get off, and you both proceed out and walk into the hallway. Much to your surprise, he continues to walk with you to the girls side of the dorms.

“Uhh, Bakugou-”

“Katsuki.” Your face is definitely a cherry, and your heart is skipping every other beat. Upon looking at him, he gives you a soft smile that makes your stomach and chest clech in adoration and pure love.

“Right… Katsuki, isn’t your dorm on the other side?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you off.” As of now, you reach your dorms door, and you’re forced to turn and face him fully.

“Well, thank you. I’m sorry movie night was ruined. I’ll be sure to make it up.” You bow slightly.

“Don’t worry about it. That movie was shitty anyways.” A small shade of pink rises on his cheeks, but you’re not sure if it’s actually him or your mind playing tricks on you.

“Have a good night Bakug- Katsuki.” You smile smally and he hums in approval. It’s now or never [Y/N]. Before he walks away, you place a hand on one of his checks and lightly kiss the other one. You rush to turn around and walk into your room, but before you can do that he catches your wrist.

“Go out with me.” His voice sounds worried, but it’s more of a statement than a question. The grip on your wrist isn’t tight by any means, which means he’s giving you the option to walk away. You turn slowly to face him, and see that his body is all tensed up. His eyes are laced with anticipation, worry and hopefulness.

“Yes.” It comes out more of breath than an actual word, but it gets the job done. His body visibly relaxes and he releases your wrist. 

“Thank fucking God. I thought you were going to say no.” He laughs, actually laughs. Again, one of those rare occurrences that you immediately soak in.

“Is it cause you thought Sero and I…?”

“Yeah. I was not happy about it.” This time you laugh.

“Mina told me. I thought for sure you weren’t gonna talk to either of us ever again.”

“Sero, maybe. You, no. I don’t think I could not listen to your annoying voice.”

“Ouch.. but thanks I guess?”

“Don’t mention it. Anyways, what the fuck were you guys talking about if you weren’t trying to hide that you were porking?” 

“Uhhh, well you probably won’t like it anyway, so I don’t know if I should say.” You rub your neck again.

“What the fuck?! We’re dating and now you won’t tell me shit?!”

“Dude, we haven’t even gone on a date do don’t say that ‘we’re dating’.” He grumbles.

“Just fucking tell me. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“You can’t tell anyone, okay? I could get into big trouble.”

“Just get on with it.”

“We were talking about smoking that sticky icky.” You pop an eyebrow up smuggly to see if he picked up what you were putting down.

“ ‘Sticky icky’? Is that seriously how you’re gonna break to me that you smoke weed?” He asks in disbelief. You laugh at his reaction. “Be grateful your cute or I would’ve dumped your ass right here right now.” Your glad no one else is in the dorms right now, because you cackling.

“Bro, we aren’t even a thing. Chill out.”

“Tch, we will be soon.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and the blush reappears on his face.

“Awww, that was cute.” You peck his cheek again and his face gets as red as his eyes. 

“Whatever.” A yawn racks your body.

“Okay, well I’m pretty tired so I'm gonna head to bed, but tomorrow we should talk about the date, yeah?”

“Why don’t we just go tomorrow?”

“Sure, it’s a Sunday so why not? What time?” You yawn again.

“How about you go to bed, and whenever you wake up and get ready is when we’ll go? I’ll be up before you anyways.” You sarcastically scoff.

“I’ll have you know that I get up at a reasonable hour. You just feel the need to get up early for God knows why.” You huff.

“Sure. Getting up at 11 in the morning is ‘reasonable’.” He air quotes.

“Do you know my sleep schedule?”

“No! I’m not a creep you weirdo.”

“Uhuh. Sure Katsuki.”

“Whatever! Go to fuckin’ bed so I can take you out tomorrow!” You giggle and, for a third time, grab his face and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Night.” Then you disappear into your room. You see the shadow of his feet in front of your door, but they move on after a couple of seconds. Your mind races about what just happened in the last 10 minutes and how you weren’t even thinking for most of it. If you weren’t high, you don’t think you would’ve kissed his cheek and the rest wouldn’t have happened.

Lying down on your bed, you take a deep breath and let your body sink into the mattress. Whatever tension was left has dissipated leaving you in a state of total relaxation. Slowly, your mind bleeds into a dream realm where you can’t wait for tomorrow to come.

“Fuck, Sero still has my wax pen!”

[antonseverus]

@imgoingtocurnyscho​

TL;DR: I was always fond of Justin but it wasn’t until his traitorous reveal that he became my fav.

I was here when Justin was first introduced and the general feel was that most of the fandom was uneasy around him, which always influences my opinion on a character in the opposite direction. It’s a personal instinct to dig through the dislike into something that’s interesting, and from the very get-go, I appreciated how professional Justin was. He was charming, slightly geeky, and just overall took everything the MC threw at him whether it was perfectly complying with his advice or blatantly ignoring it and making a fool out of herself in the media.

[[more]]

I think the moment I really liked him was at the end of TRR Book 2 when Justin really pushes for Tariq’s confession to hit the press right away. Immediately, Bertrand, Maxwell, Hana, and Drake take the opposing side and encouraged the opportunity to talk to Madeleine and Liam as a courtesy before releasing Tariq’s statement. It was the first time Justin’s advice seemed to border on ‘cold’, and the frustration he briefly expresses if you decide against it was fascinating. 

I went through with his advice and the wicked delight he took in the nobility’s faces when confronted with Riley’s innocence was also interesting. Finally, the perfect PR agent was showing some cracks. He was like the more cruel best friend I wanted instead of goofy Maxwell and perfect Hana. But he’s just doing his job, so I always understood that any advice and “bond” he may have with Riley is from a career stance. 

Replaying the book, PB was very purposeful with keeping Justin a pro (in glaring contrast to the experience we have with Maxwell in Book 1), minimizing his extended time with Riley and having the one-on-one times focused on Riley’s objectives. We get one chance to flirt with him, and it’s the very first time we meet him ( “You can manhandle me anytime.”). He easily shrugs it off and compliments her charm. What a fuckin’ professional!

With his reveal as a traitor? Holy shit. Was it a surprise to me? Yeah. I thought it was just Lucretia.

Stage 1: Most of the fandom doesn’t care about this character. I’ll like him!

Stage 2: Oh, he has some slight depth under that professionalism? Love it.

Stage 3: He’s fucking evil? Ulterior motives? AND he keeps his somewhat charismatic approach when confronting Riley in the vault to kill her, briefly expressing some sorrow that it has to end with him shooting her? I’m in love?

Bonus: Anton and Olivia’s first words to each other are:

This is like my favorite scene. They’re married. Anton knows that’s his wife and he’s still like... I dunno, terrified of her. There’s something hilarious in how “Justin” behaves around Olivia. It’s such a genuine character Anton has built for years.

I’m a fan of “the mask and you becoming one and the same” trope. I really think Anton and Justin have melded together. If Anton was an angry kid growing up under his father’s revolutionary teachings, and Justin is a persona crafted to schmooze his way around nobles and learn their dark secrets, I’m excited to see what Anton’s personality really is. I don’t want ALL of Justin’s charm and geekiness to evaporate. I don’t think it will, especially when Riley says “I put up with your stupid catchphrase for this?!” and Anton, while holding a gun pointed at her, casually says, “Hey, I’m gonna trademark that one day.”

He’s so funny. He’s so dry. I want to see more of that! There’s a lot of question marks surrounding this guy I thought I had figured out, which just fuels my initial fondness for him.

And I think... he believes he’s doing the right thing.

The videos the Sons of Earth have put out have valid points. They call out the royal family for their corruption and Liam’s weakness as a ruler. I dunno. Maybe we’re skipping a lot of the politics to keep things “fun” in the game, but I don’t think Liam going on a hundred Tours and dedicating most of his time to sleeping with Riley is going to be a great legacy. He doesn’t even want to be King.

But Anton does. I hope, however misguided his intentions are, it’s shown that he really just wants to lead Cordonia out of some stupid tourist spot and expand international outreach by getting rid of the current royal family just taking care of each other and those fucking apples. The Sons of Earth have inadvertently killed Constantine, attempted to murder Liam and Riley (who has proven herself to be more dangerous than I think Anton suspected, what with her popularity skyrocketing and rallying the country against him), but other than that, there aren’t any casualties. For staging a coup, they’re pretty well restrained in not needlessly taking lives. No takeover is ever going to be a peaceful negotiation.

Anton’s the only thing keeping this third book interesting. 

Where I want the story to go: Anton wins and does a phenomenal job with expansion and trade and international policies that don’t keep Cordonia a shitty little tourist island with a fondness for the world’s shittiest apple (with Olivia who finally gets over Liam omg and is a great Queen who focuses on Cordonia and everyone loves her and she bickers with Anton all the time but they get along eventually) and Liam & the crew have a happy life somewhere else.

Where it’s probably gonna go: Anton gets close to winning but is arrested and has a meltdown and we focus on decorating a boring wedding. Olivia marries Liam maybe if you’re not romancing him?

Of course, Classic Pixelberry can pull a fast one on me and dump all of Anton’s careful characterization out the window and just go “Yeah, Anton is power-mad and wants to kill everyone and waste all of the country’s money because he’s evil.” That would suck, in addition to not making any sense.

This is incredibly long but I love Anton so much. The potential is there. I have more screenshots and meta shit at @kingantonseverus but I think I’ll cut it here. Thank you for asking! I’m sure you weren’t expecting a novel to read but if you’re ever interested in talking more on Anton or the other Books, I’d like to!!

[vadre]

so uhh vent post bc i havent done one since moving into apartment(!!!!!!) i think

fuckin? u kno

like my mental health just skyrockets whenever im out of my house so thats? pretty cool? and i fuckin!!!! have friends in all of my classes and my classes also seem rly cool?

(”friends” is using the term liberally, they’re like. friendly acquaintances) 

BUT the point still stands that this time last year my friends had to fuckin. have a Conference bc i was so goddamn sad all the time they needed to collectively stop teasing me

like its wild thinking how far ive come in a year. its been 14 months since shitty ex touched me and that just. feels rly good 2 know. and its been like 11 months since we’ve spoken which is also rly comforting. lmao its been like. only 3 months since i last saw her??? which makes me kinda sick honestly

idk i just remember feeling too apathetic to feel suicidal honestly the entire world just felt gray so it wasnt entirely shocking when i didnt talk to any of my classmates even if i didnt realize i was secluding myself at the time

my mental health was like. in a weird place during the second semester so instead of gloomy apathy suddenly i had reckless apathy so like while i did well in my classes the first semester i also cried myself to sleep entirely too often and then in the second semester i just! didnt care! and now im kinda paying for it but. idk ill figure it out

BUT! anyway! i have people to talk to in all of my classes who seem rly nice! and my classes seem interesting and!!

my hindi professor is honestly so fuckin cool and he seems like. realistic in how much we can learn in a single semester but honestly like. that class is the first time ive been in a room with a majority Also south asian people and didnt feel entirely out of place which was? actually a kind of amazing feeling that i didnt expect 

my sociology professor is kinda strict i think but her class is interesting and apparently she writes bomb ass rec letters so,

and my other two classes just seem kinda casual and fun but Still interesting and again im. definitely lacking in credits and need to fuckin schedule an advising appointment but like? fuck it ya kno

i also gotta talk to my fuckin. manager bc i had a 7.5 hour shift immediately before my classes that went from 3:30-6:50 (my prof let us out at 6:30 tho god bless him) but by the end of the day i was so manic tired i went to the gym for the first time in forever which was pretty cool

but idk im ready 2 be active and shit and im excited and i love being able to talk to people again without fucking crumpling in on myself or being afraid or. wow abuse rly rly fucked me up lmao

BUt i also think im learning how to pace myself better and im gonna try to stay consistently/realistically motivated throughout the year, i say on my second day of class

idk i have a lot more i could keep writing about but ive been up for like 21 hours now i think so uhh Gn

[dissimulxte]

Atari: favorite video game || NES: favorite video game character || PC: favorite villain

Atari | Favorite Video Game

I’ll also have to cheat a little bit because there are just... too many games, but I guess it’s true that I do have one clear favorite, which I try to shove into everyone’s face because I still feel like a weirdly small amount of people have played it?

#1: Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch

Some people are becoming a little bit more familiar with this game because of the E3 content this year for it’s sequel, but I’m still astonished how few people I know have actually put their hands on my absolute favorite game. Ni No Kuni is the perfect blending of a whole bunch of things that I love, including a very pokémon-like familiar mechanic, incredible music, and animation/designs from the one and only studio ghibli, who teamed up with Level 5-- makers of some of my other favorite games, like the Professor Layton series, and the lesser known Dark Cloud & Dark Chronicle/Dark Cloud 2-- and every second of it just feels like a charming, warm-hearted visual feast. It’s like playing through a Miyazaki movie!! That’s everything I could ever dream of. Plus, I play/watch a lot of dark, gritty looking games, so having one that is so unashamedly bright, colorful, and fun to look at is really special to me.

One of my most treasured OCs here on tumblr, (Hesper, @stxllaris​), is actually based off an OC by the same name which I made for this game. I’ve spent well over 300 hours with Ni No Kuni, and the only reason it’s less than my time in my Fire Emblem games is because it isn’t portable like they are, (if they ever localize the version for the 3ds, I’ll be all over that shit). If you’ve never heard of it/haven’t played it, PLEASE give it a chance.

#2: Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past

I have to mention ALTTP because I feel it really shaped my gaming preferences a lot, and some of my earliest memories as a human are of watching someone play this game. The SNES is still one of my favorite consoles of all time, and ALTTP holds a lot of responsibility for that. It’s another game that I think uses color very well, has a storyline that I care about, and just... feels good to play.

I don’t wanna ramble too much, just know that I care very deeply about this game and it’s incredibly special to me, so I couldn’t run away without saying something about it.

NES | Favorite Video Game Character

I love a lot of characters, but I’m not going to pretend this was hard to choose. At least right now, Sora definitely takes the number one spot. I’m sure if you ask me this at different times in my life, it’ll change, but Sora is the kind of character I feel like I need in my life right now. My brother and I wax at length at how proud we are of him, and how special it is to see a hero who isn’t brooding and bitter, despite a seemingly neverending shitstorm of bad circumstances coming their way. Watching him grow up and improve through the KH series has established a permanent spot for this spiky-haired, big-shoed protagonist in my heart. I really do feel connected to him. His optimism, devotion to his friends, and genuine heart inspire me.

I just love my very good boy. I don’t care if it’s not interesting or original, Sora means a whole world and more to me.

PC | Favorite Villain

It’s Ganon! Demise! Ganondorf! And all his other incarnations, I don’t give a shit, Ganon is my fuckin’ boy, I adore him. Windwaker’s dorf is probably my favorite, but I’m as weak for Ocarina of Time’s as most other nostalgic babies are. And Calamity Ganon is REALLY fuckin’ tight, as well, (Breath of the Wild as skyrocketed up among some of my favorite all-time games).

Something that I really enjoy about the LOZ series is that even though there are some pepperings of a deeper motivation, Ganon is allowed to remain, a lot of the time, just a true to-the-bone villain. I get pretty bored of people always trying to make my bad guys sympathetic, giving them tragic and emotional backstories which are meant to endear me to them or generate some empathy-- nah, fuck that, let me have an unashamed and unabashed villain from time to time.

Buuuuut, my honorable mention has to go to a different LOZ villain... or villains.

Skull Kid and Majora are incredible. And yes, I’m addressing them as two separate bad guys, coming together for one of the most memorable (and terrifying!) experiences of my youth. Seeing the curious, albeit mischievous, skull kid possessed by the demon of the mask is SO interesting to me-- I want to know SO MUCH MORE about Majora?? 

Like, bajeezus, that’s a a freaky boy.

[unrulyrp]

❛ IF you weren’t already aware, this is MELO BROOKS! They’re 26 years old and from ATLANTA, GA. MELO is often told that they bear a striking resemblance to QUAVO but, they don’t see it! They also sound a lot like QUAVO but that’s just a coincidence.

〘  HISTORY!  〙

Melo rise to stardom was never something he had to worry about. He always knew he had the talent, the look, and most of all, he knew he was built for that life. Before he got his fame, he was dealing down in Atlanta to pay for his studio sessions and all the equipment he needed while providing for his family. He always wanted to make sure his family was situated before he took off. RAPPING was something that came easy to him and with the help of his friends and family that were familiar with the music industry. He was brought into a rap group and they built up their fame from there. The group’s popularity was skyrocketed over the last two years then it recently came to an end. Due to a fight within the group, Melo left the group and went solo. The feedback to the solo tracks that he put out and features he did confirmed what he always knew. He was going to be a star with or without someone around him. Once he moved to LA, he instantly got caught up in drama. Whether it be him standing by his cousin, MICHAELA BROOKS, side when she’s in drama or arguing with his ex girlfriend, TRINITY JACOBS, Melo can’t seem to dodge the media and everything they have to say about him. He decided to focus solely on music and mind his business, so he signed to OVO SOUND and has been working hard since.

〘  CELL PHONE!  〙

INCOMING TEXT from CHAELA  ― “Hey, lil’ nigga. Come by my crib later, I’ma have a kickback.”

MISSED CALL from TRINITY ― (2) times.

INCOMING VOICEMAIL from TRINITY  ― “Nigga, did you REALLY say that in that interview?! You fulla’ shit and these niggas finna see, keep fuckin’ with me.”

〘  NETWORKING! 〙

MICHAELA BROOKS ― ( cousin ) ― If there’s anyone who Melo would go to war for, it’s Chaela. Ever since the two were kids, he felt as if he had to protect her. She was always getting herself into trouble so everytime her cousin came down, he had to find a way to get her out of it. Family is nothing to come between when it comes to Melo Brooks.

TRINITY JACOBS ― ( ex-girlfriend ) ― When Trinity met Melo, she was head over heels for him. He was there ready and willing to listen to whatever she had going on. He was her shoulder to cry on and eventually, she fell for him. She learned his motives quickly, she couldn’t believe the amount of work he put into acting like he cared about her. He really didn’t, he showed that very early on into the relationship, but there was a certain comfort about him that wouldn’t allow her to let him go. Until she did. And he made her feel guilty for it, the same thing he’d been doing the entire relationship.