#also frankly. i think their first date should have been more casual. but that's an opinion thing

[lovevalley45]

no shade to jes macallan. she's beautiful. but ngl a lot of the time the costume department tries to put her in a modern dress i hate it i don't know why... i don't even think it's like a "let her be butch thing" (tho i do support butch ava and would love if they hadn't been cowards) i just feel like they make bad choices

[gamblersdoll]

cw: semi cheating trope, cucking, doggy style, masturbation (m) spitting, katsuki being really mean in this one, slapping.

this felt dirty and wrong, izuku thought. the way he felt about you was greater than his past crush for ochaco, yet here he was. the obsessive and adoration he had for you was no match, but here he was.

here he was pressing down on katsuki’s head as he went down on izuku, him slightly gagging on his length and pushing away. “fuck– you getting too rough, deku.” he spits, glaring up at him. “calm down this time.”

he nods, eyes filled with lust and his judgement clouded. he didnt notice the two missed calls you had given him, nor the four missed messages. his fingers trail through katsuki’s head, yet his balls lurched when katsuki licked his lips.

“zuku, what are you—“ you say, opening the door and looking at your phone. until your eyes meet the two, katsuki on his knees while izuku sits on his bed, manspreading.

both of their hearts thump, a cold nervous sweat on both of their faces and hands as you just stand there, bewildered. your heart clenches, feeling sadness, but more of disappointment and rage filling your veins.

“baby—“ izuku starts, but gets cut off by you.

“nah nah, fuck you!” you shout, turning around and slamming the door. it had to be about nine in the evening, so everyone was already downstairs chilling out.

it took you about a month or two to settle your nerves, feeling rage and betrayal from him just getting his dick sucked from his childhood friend.

a friend who also just so happen to be friends with you, surprisingly. thats what threw you off, katsuki just so suddenly became friends with you and wasn’t completely an ass to you. you at first thought nothing of it, but now it made sense.

your mind stops thinking, your ears and eyes being drawn to the message ping on your phone. izuku had texted, asking to meet in his dorm to talk.

should you even fucking bother? maybe. let hear what this bitch had to say.

“so— first i want to say im so sorry.” he starts, hands on his bouncing knees and eyes darting around. he picked at his nails, katsuki having to pull his hands apart. that only added salt to the wound, because what the fuck was he doing here?

“and why does bakugou have to be here for this?” you ask, growing impatient and tapping your foot. he looks up to your eyes, the glare you gave was mean, hurting his heart.

the “because he has involvement with this— its not what you think!” he quickly says, hands up in defense and looking to you and katsuki.

“so..”

“uhum–“ he tried, swallowing thickly and takes a deep breath. “so.. you remember when i told you i was bi, right? before we got together?” he starts, knee bouncing faster harder. you nod, eyes raised in a “yeah, no shit.” look. “well.. kacchan and i had been talking since we made up, and we started to like you as well.”

youre feet stop tapping, heart stopping and you start a glare. “hold on! and we started to like you and it kinda separated us for a couple weeks, thats when me and you were first dating and we had that big fight that you had to separate.” he rambles, katsuki flicking him to stay on topic.

“and uh, me and kacchan made up again after you both became friends and we wanted to ask you in person if you could give a threeway a shot!”

you just stare, looking at the both of them and watching katsuki just lean back. that made your blood boil, the way hes just acting all casual.

katsuki notices, manspreading himself and staring right back at you. “if you got something to say, say it.” he states, testing to see who and what you were.

you say nothing, biting your tongue and looking back to the green haired boy. “that’s absolutely bullshit and you know it.” you say, finding that shit unbelievable and quite frankly, offensive. “you mean to tell me that you both were fucking on the down low and then i just peaked both of your interest, you got together with me and all of a sudden you want a three way?”

“aint that what he just said?” katsuki finally speaks and chimes in, eyebrow raised.

you feel like a snapping point, like your ready to reach across and slap the fuck out of him for even speaking to you at all. “you can shut the fuck up, baku—“

at that point, he had heard enough between you and izuku. he reaches out, grabbing you by your throat and giving a slight choke. your thighs quiver, it being an instant trigger for you to become a mess.

“kacc—!”

“nah, you took too long with your fuckin’ delivery.” he says, hand groping a breast and leading you to the bed. “youre the one who told me this the shit she likes, so i’m fuckin’ her.”

and if those words werent a trigger for you, it was for izuku. his cock grows hard, his shorts becoming a restriction to his length and he groans.

katsuki’s lips crash onto yours, him effortlessly taking a hand and freeing himself from his boxers and tapping it against your skin. “you want it, dont you?” he teases, ripping the shorts off of your skin and rubbing circles into your clit.

his hand pries open your mouth, his eyes lowering. “open.” he says, curling his lips and spitting into your wet cavern. he looks over to izuku, izuku already freeing himself and spitting on his own length. “you see that there?” he points, whispering in your ear.

“thats what he does when he thinks about me fucking you like some common whore.” he reveals, chuckling in your ear. “he been waitin’ for this, to see me fuck you relentless and he watch.” he says again, slapping your clit and pinching it.

“zuku—“ your voice tries, sounding hoarse and katsuki focusing on your face now. he lands a somewhat hard slap to it, forcing you to look only at him.

“dont look at him, why are you looking at him? whos about to fuck you?” katsuki presses, fingers digging their way into your walls. “huh? whos about to fuck this pussy hm?”

you stutter, the intrusion being too much and you claw at his skin. “katsuki! shit—“

“yeah, thats right. im the one fucking you, not him. he assures, fingers finished from curling inside onto your gspot and forcing themselves into your mouth. “you dont get to cum, yet, either.”

you suckle on his fingers, eyes rolling back from the sheer force of his demands and tossing. he flips you over, face in the mattress and him grabbing you by your hips. shit, could you do this? doggy you cant even handle with izuku.

you try to look up, only catching a glimpse of izuku fisting his cock and his face flushed.

you squeal, feeling the heat from katsuki’s tip slip inside of your walls and hitting that spot already. the spot that hadnt been touched in however long you and izuku hadnt talked. “fuck, i can see what you mean by her being a tight space.” katsuki groans, hand gripping a hip and shoulder blade.

he starts immediately thrusting at such a violent place, but you knew he was going to be like that. “some fucking girlfriend you fuckin’ had!” katsuki laughs, his hips snapping into yours and balls slapping at your clit. “just some fucking whore that needed a good dick!”

you moan into the mattress, drooling against it and eyes rolling harder to your skull. you clawed at the sheets, hearing izuku lose himself in his fist as he watched his fuck buddy, his childhood best friend fuck his pretty girlfriend.

you choke, his cock angled at a different spot that had never been used or touched. “oh shit, you havent fucked her this way either, huh?” he grins, his hips angling themselves better and he spits onto the curve of your back. “yeah? he doesnt fuck you good like i do, huh?” he asks, a harsh slap to your ass.

“no— no no fuck!” you moan, going stupid from the intrusion, the sheer force of his hips alone making you go dumb. your tummy clenched, feeling your clit throb more than anything until it hurt.

“fuck, shes about to cum, deku.” he growls in a praise, his palms pressing down on your lower back as he slams his bodyweight into the thrusts.

you squeal, that coil tightening and hearing izuku lose himself in his own orgasm at the same time. you had missed hearing him cum, you both usually always have a simultaneous orgasm together at the same time.

“cum in her— breed her pussy please, kacchan.” he pleads, his hand shines with his seed and sweat that came from fucking his cock.

katsuki loses himself in a matter of time, approximately two minutes after you both had came and it was all because of how good you felt and that izuku just wanted to watch you get fucked by his childhood friend. his own rival.

[leaahhh]

here are some of the songs that soundtracked my summer

maps by the yeah yeah yeahs because i have a secret theory that you must pay attention to the songs that play in the background of a first date because they might be premonitions. it was one of the first that came on the day we met. you were quieter then and everyone knew your name. i overslept far past my welcome that first night and maybe that should have been more telling than the song. maybe i shouldn’t have given myself over so quickly. maybe i should’ve listened to tyler. maybe maybe maybe a lot of things. still, i laughed the whole way home. my kind's your kind, i'll stay the same.

acolyte by slaughter beach, dog because it is one of the only unabashed love songs i can listen to several times in a row without recoiling. it is the best song to wash the dishes to, to walk into the sunset with, to believe in kinder things because of. 

group four by massive attack because the man i was seeing at the time played it once at the bar he worked at. i visited several nights a week, it became part of my routine: something to rush around for, a soft place to land. i was mesmerized from the jump, it was all i could fixate on for its full eight minute runtime — the song and also him, flitting back and forth in the dim red light. (i played it for S a few days later, saying it was the best thing i’d ever heard — he didn’t like it, said it was scary.) i remember going into the bathroom and stabilizing myself in the mirror prematurely thinking that i’d miss coming here when it all ended. each time i was met with eyes a little more vacant. a self-fulfilling prophecy. (i’m at a different bar alone now writing this. your coworker spotted me, came over, and reminded me that you’re working there tonight. i shook my head and he said “oops” three times.)

lost angel nights by james blake and alphabet city by the national because they say the quiet part loud. they made me feel justified in my self-abandonment and my masterful act of pretending to be okay with distance and mistreatment. “away from me is just fine.” “if anybody asks, i’ll say you’re coming back.” “i’ll still be here when you come back from space.” it’s not true. it shouldn’t be. but love is this way sometimes. 

montana by youth lagoon because J brought it up around 3am at a bar in bushwick and before then i hadn’t thought of it in many, many years. she joked that i should play it next to your ear while you were asleep that night because it might rewire your brain. i laughed hard then but later it made me want to cry. a couple months after, her and i sat on a couch backstage with T before he played a sold out show in brooklyn. i told him i think i might’ve met you just so i could meet her. i do believe it. 

this house by japanese breakfast because a friend posted it on her instagram story right after going through a bad breakup and i listened to it eating dinner alone at the neighborhood fast casual korean restaurant staring out the open front door while hot air hit my face and it felt like i was hearing music for the first time. what if one day i don’t know you? what if one day you leave? i could sense it was coming but i came over for a kiss despite it all. i really learned about liquid courage with you and i probably never needed to befriend it so closely. when we were together, my head was always spinning; my nose always stung. 

very overdue goodbye by runo plum because my friends all know i prefer dragged out, tortuous storylines over clean-cut endings and rightfully shake their heads. i’ve never gotten over a thing in my life, i tell david in a frankly unhinged voice message that closes with me laughing pathetically, squeezing in at the end that i hope the baby is healthy. it is the last friday night of summer. he says that 26 is the new 18, that i am the one making bad decisions, *i* am not the bad decision. he tells me to stand up for myself. it takes me several weeks but i listen. you made being alone feel so clean. i see you more as a pile-up of my own grief. 

to me it was by samia because the guitar gives me goosebumps all over. eliza and i have used the format “everything with ____ is totally fine/don’t freak out, it’s gonna be alright�� back and forth all month to punctuate every nervous interaction. we ended up being wrong a lot of the time, there was absolutely reason to freak out. samia was right though; maybe i didn’t need tequila for that. someday i think i’ll look back and remember this as a good time. right now it just hurts. 

blue flower by mazzy star because it reminds me of my favorite line in that other song that makes me think about that other guy: i had a fever when i met you; now you make me cool. you were a superstar in your own private movie and i wanted just a minor part. ang is the first person to call it by its name: cruelty. i sweltered and seethed while you slipped away. 

street rat by blondshell because i fell back into my old habits as quickly as i’d tried to kick them as soon as you entered the scene. if a doctor put her hands over my liver she would tell me my resentment’s getting…bigger. i felt a lump, hard and unforgiving, growing there. my back tooth turned brown and started rotting the day you disappeared. Z yelped at me from across the street when he saw me and said i’m withering in front of his eyes. it’s a race to see who dies first and you’ve got five years on me. (as i’m typing this, the bar has begun playing sepsis by blondshell. it feels almost evil. it really should’ve taken a whole lot less to turn me off.) 

split up by boyish because i could have said all of this word-for-word in that text message. i kept it short for both of our dignities. 

aspirin - slight return by tropical fuck storm because christian responded with just the link to that after i ranted for 5 minutes straight about my rapid descent into madness. it was a perfect response. i’m a harrowing rest stop for the men i date. disarming enough to trip them up. not enough to make them stay. 

moon song by phoebe bridgers because after three years of knowing it so well, i heard it entirely differently one night and it nearly rendered me immobile. you asked to walk me home but i had to carry you. you pushed me in and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of you. i would have stuck around, by the way. like a dog with a bird at your door.

[alltimefail-sims]

94% ! For any or all of your strangerville ocs!

94%. Your character is falling in love. Do they take things slow or fast? Do they make decisions or do they make a lot of compromises? How secure are they?

Ohhhhh man this is a sneaky cheeky question. I am going to be very careful answering this 🧐, but the responses will likely be long because ya'll know I loooooooove love!!

Zoe is demisexual and demiromantic which is important to note because falling in love for her has always felt a little different than it did for her peers. Growing up she was never relationship-crazy, she has had very few "crushes" and even fewer relationships. For her, falling in love really would happen slowly as the connection builds, but then, all at once, she would have a moment of realization where she realizes oh shit, I'm in love. If there's one thing she's gonna do, it's marry someone she sees as her best friend - she cares about a person's soul/heart/character. Zoe's love would come from such a vulnerable place as she has never had a serious enough relationship where she "fell in love" before. As for as the dynamics of a relationship, she would not date anyone who she didn't fully trust and compliment, so I actually think she'd be an even balance of decision-making and compromises (it would just depend on her partner, the situation they're faced with, etc.) She's a team player. If Zoe is saying she's "in love," she is all in and 100% secure. I'd say the most secure she has ever been was with her previous boyfriend who she dated from the last few months of high school (12th grade) to the first 3-or-so months of college (they broke up for a number of reasons) and she was only ever like 63% secure on any given day with him.

Erwin believes he'll never fall in love, full stop, for a number of reasons. Frankly, he's not even sure if he should fall in love and subject someone to the metaphorical baggage he carries around. His self-esteem is kind of all over the place as he's always been considered different, yet hookups and flings have always been accessible to him. What little actual relationship history he has is pretty toxic, if we're being honest. All that said... Erwin falling in love would scare the shit out of him lmao. I think he's the type of person who would scoff at the idea of falling in love quickly, but then it would happen to him and he would get it. Suddenly everything would make sense, the world would feel a little less heavy, he'd find himself wanting to be better for this person who he would treat like they hung the moon and the stars...he might even be happy for once and God is that foreign to him. He'd definitely tend to be the compromiser, not in a negative way but in the way that he's just happy to see his partner happy. He's spent so long alone and doing things "his way" that he'd be happy to let someone else take lead (and he'd probably welcome it because he is kind of a mess and notorious for making bad decisions lmao).

Anwar has only ever been in casual relationships, much to his family's dismay (he hasn't had a partner reach the "meet the family" stage, and he often jokes about being a bachelor for the rest of his life). He's very independent and very logical, but he's also got a bad habit of being a little too guarded with his heart. He comes off callous, but really it's just so he doesn't get hurt. But once you break through that and gain his trust he moves fairly quickly and he is very decisive, he is the type to fall hard and fall fast (but he'd be wary to scare off his partner with his intense feelings). I would argue that as tough as he seems, he's actually super chill and more likely to compromise. He's actually a big softie when it comes to the people he loves, he's very protective of them and he doesn't like fighting in general. He's definitely more of the "what can I do to help you," "how do you feel about this," "whatever you're comfortable with," and so-on type. He's always going to put his partner's comfort first, not because he feels like he has to but because he genuinely wants to.

Junia's first, honest reaction to falling in love would be to push the person away without question (literally making physical space if that's what it takes). She doesn't really want to fall in love and she's emotionally constipated in my opinion lmao. It isn't until the feelings are unbearable to bury any more; when she's sketching their smile, thinking about them while laying in the dark, is looking for excuses to do little things for them or to just subtly touch them that she would admit she has feelings for them. She is going to move painfully slow, she's going to resist it as much as possible, and she would never tell someone that she is into them first even if she was grossly in love with them. Once the relationship is on though, she's very upfront about her needs and boundaries. She's probably more of the decision-maker, but in all likelihood she's the one with a more difficult past so she has barriers to work through that her partner might not have. It's important to note that even though she is the decision-maker, this mostly goes hand-in-hand with her "she asked for no pickles" demeanor in the relationship lol. Idk that she would ever be 100% secure in any friendship, nonetheless a relationship, but I'd argue she would try her hardest to be (she knows she's fiercely loyal and wouldn't leave her partner, but loving someone requires a lot of trust that they won't leave, and that's hard for her).

Tashia is pretty straightforward: her preference would always be to move quickly once feelings are there. She wants kids, she wants a big family, she wants a life-partner and is a super romantic. If she was falling in love she would be obvious about it, she would be really flirty and thoughtful and wouldn't think twice about making her intentions known. She's a fine-ass, educated, confident woman! In relationships she's always been very decisive, but I imagine she knows when to take the lead and when to let her partner call the shots. She's a great listener and likes to see things from more than just her own perspective, so as long as someone isn't asking her to compromise one her dreams/ambitions/long-term goals, she's very happy to try things a different way than she originally planned.

Beckett's answer is the most difficult to me because he is a little bit of everything - for him, his response time and stature in a relationship is situational. With some people he moves fast, and in general he just feels like there's no reason to waste time if he is into someone. On the other hand, he's also sooooo shy and kind of terrible at flirting so sometimes things happen slower than he originally intended. He is very passive by nature, so he tends to opt to his partner to be the one making decisions, but he is opinionated - he just generally feels like his opinions don't really matter or aren't important enough to share. If he were to fall in love he would be sooooooooo sure of his feelings though, he'd be super vocal about it, and he would feign a lot of confidence with his partner like, "you know I'm hot" or "you know you love me." He'd be lying though if he didn't admit that he deals with the fear of not being good enough and he would need a little reassurance from his significant other from time to time.

Prompt here - ask me about my OCs!

[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #1

[Masterlist]

Prompt from @stealingyourbones found here

"Valerie in Metropolis chews out Superboy for using her car as a projectile to hit a villain."

===============•‹«⟨·⟩»›•===============

Valerie wasn't aware that part of being a hero meant using the possessions of those you were protecting to fight the beings you were protecting them from. In fact, she's pretty sure it wasn't. Sure, she's not always been on the right side of the fight, herself, but she's gotten better! And besides, unlike someone she could name, she's never used a stranger's car as a weapon before!

"OI! You jerk! Did you have to throw my car?! Don't you have freaking laser vision, you idiot!?" Val yelled at Superboy Sr, who was levitating just above the intersection a few feet away from her.

Superboy glared incredulously at her over his shoulder, which, first of all, rude, she should be glaring at him, not the other way around. Second of all, she has every right to be upset about this, how he can be incredulously doing anything in response to that fact is, quite frankly, stupid.

"You call that a car? Honey, fuzzy dice are so 50s, and what was with the white wall tires? I was doing that dated hunk of junk a favor." Oh. Oh he did not. He. Did. Not.

"That 'dated hunk of junk', as you called it, was my grandfather's. It was a feta HEIRLOOM, you—you cheese curd! You leftover piece of string cheese! If you think you're gonna get out of this scott free, then buddy, you've got another thing coming! It may have been on its last legs, but that thing was, quite literally, my only reliable mode of transportation in this gouda forsaken place. 'Moby Dick'! Do you just casually destroy private property every time you fight some ne'er-do-well? How the 'Flygirl' you manage to get away with frequent property damage I'll never know, but—" who knew cussing out a superhero in the middle of battle was so hard to do? She had to up her cardio next time to went to the gym, this was unacceptable.

Superboy glanced at her again and rolled his eyes, dodging out of the way of a different thrown car before replying. "Look, as much as I'd love to hear you go on, I'm kind of busy at the moment, can we talk about this later? If you're really that torn up over the antique rust bucket, I'll make it up to you. Alright?"

Val narrowed her eyes at him as she ducked under a chunk of flying rubble. "You better. In fact, to make sure you don't get to get out of this, I'm going to stay right on your tail the rest of this fight. You try to lose me, I take you to court. Now will you stop dancing around this quack?! Just finish him already!"

===•‹«⟨·⟩»›•===

Incoming message

From: The Konman

Hey, question. Could you, theoretically, lend me some money for a car?

From: Third Tim's the Charm

... is this about that chick whose car you threw instead of using your heat vision earlier?

From: The Konman

Oh no, I am not losing that bet, I can totally go a full week without melting things with my eyes.

From: Third Tim's the Charm

... I'll see what I can do.

From: The Konman

You're the best ^⁠_⁠^

===============•‹«⟨·⟩»›•===============

Credit: "The Konman" is from the amazing chat fic "Crime, Love, and Ghosts. (And other, Probably)" by Thornrose270 on AO3, I highly recommend reading it ^⁠_⁠^

There's no specific make or model mentioned because, while I am an appreciator of cars, I do not want to make any more waves in the car enthusiast community than I might have already, what with my comments on fuzzy dice and white wall tires (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

Also, on Val's use of cheese and literature as stand-in cuss words. Kids emulate the language used around them as they grow up ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠⊙⁠_⁠ʖ⁠⊙⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ also, I really wanted to use some cheese related cuss words (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)

I may or may not come back later and edit this, there was no beta reader and I barely know how to write Val or Kon, so there's probably lots of mistakes (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠) but hopefully it's not too bad? *fingers crossed*

[rick-rayson]

Cyclone - SFW Alphabet

A/N: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE BLACK ADAM FILM, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! (Probably OOC, apologies in advance!)

(credit for the SFW prompt goes to Jschqtt right here on Tumblr!)

Maxine Hunkel:

A: Affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show they care?)

Maxine gives a more words of affirmation and acts of service kind of approach to affection than anything else. She's not the most physically affectionate person in the world but she shows that she cares by doing things for you.

You need some snacks? She packed an extra bag of food for you. Want some more? Stay where you are, she'll get you some takeout.

She also likes to tease you with her powers, just a slight swish of air passing you, or maybe a pencil floating up to you. She finds your reactions so cute.

B: Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Max greatly respects your opinions and what you have to say, so when she works on a project or is thinking about what else she could contribute to the Justice Society you are one of the first people she goes to for another outlook. She admires observance in a person, and swoons over confident people.

She'd also love it if you're partial to science or art!

C: Cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

She loves cuddling at the end of the day. No talking only love and warmth. She'd like to lightly drape an arm over you but wouldn't like to be smothered, she doesn't like heating up too much.

D: Domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they with cooking and cleaning?)

For Max, settling down is the last thing she wants to do currently. She happily embraces the life she has with the Justice Society. I'd say she's a good cook, she's more partial to comfort food over anything.

Cleaning is.. contained. Sometimes books stack up, sometimes papers are misplaced, she at least tries to contain her messes.

E: Ending (if they had to break up with their s/o, how would they do it?)

She'd likely plan what to say beforehand but then choke AS she's telling her partner, the last thing she wants to do is hurt them any more than breaking up with them will hurt them.

F: Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? how fast do they want to get married?)

She's not opposed to marriage but isn't in any rush for it, she's still following her childhood dreams after all.

G: Gentle (how gentle are they? physically and emotionally)

She is so physically gentle it's adorable, on more occasions than one, you'll find her pondering whether it's okay to hold your hand or kiss your cheek. The way her hands cup your face and the pads of her thumb trace your cheeks, she is hooked on being gentle.

She's a pretty chill person but maybe not so gentle when it comes to emotions, she's not a monster or anything but sometimes she might be a bit slow on registering the fact she should be more sensitive.

H: Hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it, and what are they like?)

She likes casual hugging, she gives lazy hugs by draping an arm around you. Her touches are light and when she hugs you, you just feel so much lighter.

I: I love you (how fast would they say ‘i love you’?)

Maxine would take a while to say the three words, she could wait out an entire year and then some. But here's the thing, several months of dating she'd occasionally say "Love you." But never the three words whole, and it's purposeful on her part, she's too afraid to say she loves you at first and over thinks the situation.

So her grand plan was to simply say it... And then run away.

"Oh hey I'm gonna go get our food byeIloveyouseeyouinasec-"

J: Jealousy (how jealous do they get? how do they act when they’re jealous?)

She's not usually jealous, it's quite rare because frankly she's way too busy. But on the occasion that she is jealous, that jealousy manifests into self doubt. She thinks things like "maybe I should do better."

You'll notice she's a bit more clingy, her fingers hooked under your shirt.

K: Kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss their s/o, and where do they like to be kissed?)

Despite her featherlight hugs and small cuddles, Max does not mess around with kisses. She wants to steal your breath away and bring back the air in your lungs. Her lips will press against yours rather passionately, a confidence you don't usually get to see.

L: Little ones (how are they around kids? do they want kids?)

Max is really good with kids! She's kind, friendly, and always ready to show off if they want to see her manipulate air. Just don't leave her alone with them, because then she panics and gets a bit awkward, you give her the strength to socialize sometimes.

M: Mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Unless you're vehemently against it, she'll set alarms for each task she needs to do in the early morning, and to her credit she keeps up with it rather well, down to maintaining her skincare routine. She also likes going on a jog or biking in the mornings, if that's not your thing though she won't be pressed.

She'll gladly make breakfast for you or if you need a quick pick me up.

Mornings with Max are spent living under sunbeams and faintly listening to the sounds of singing birds mixed with her light singing.

N: Nights (how are nights spent with them?)

She's a bit clingy during the night, she won't latch onto you but you'll notice she'll try to do every one of her nightly tasks in your proximity. If you're sitting on the couch she'll sit next to you whilst brushing her teeth before hopping back over to the bathroom to finish.

She'll tell you goodnight but then go on her phone or computer until you have to tug her back to bed.

O: Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Max is pretty reserved at first, it would honestly take her a bit to tell you personal things. With someone like Max she'll tell you certain stuff about herself that seems deeply personal but actually doesn't affect her anymore at all. She'll tell you those first because she doesn't care as much.

But if you want to get to know her more then you'll need some patience.

P: Patience (how easily do they get angry?)

Speaking of patience, Max has a lot of it. Or at least she thinks so. Sometimes the things people say can set her off a little, and annoy her. She dislikes when people don't think before they speak, or are just downright horrible.

Q: Quizzes (how much do they remember about their s/o? do they remember every detail, or do they forget everything?)

If Max can't simply remember something about you (which is pretty uncommon) she'll write it down somewhere for her to remember, if she has to have a thousand post it notes on her computer then so be it. However her memory is impeccable, she'll remember stuff about you that you might not even remember.

R: Romantic (how romantic are they? do they go all out for dates, or do they prefer staying home?)

The reason she is so dead set on remembering things about you is because she wants to implement her knowledge of you into the dates she takes you on. I don't think she realizes how romantic she is because well.. why wouldn't she go all out for you? She is the type to prefer staying home for dates or doing something that includes both of your interests.

S: Security (how protective are they? how would they protect their s/o?)

She's pretty protective and maybe even a little doting. She looks out for you if you won't look out for yourself. And if you're in any kind of trouble you can trust that Max will help you every step of the way. She's a natural protector.

T: Try (how much effort would they put in? like dates and gifts?)

Max's effort shines most with dates and especially gifts. She remembers every little detail about you, and your interests. You'll always get a meaningful gift from her.

U: Ugly (what are some bad habits of theirs?)

She's sometimes a bit negligent when it comes to her own physical needs. Please get this girl a glass of water and something to eat because she WILL forget if she's working. It's a genuine surprise how she doesn't pass out from exhaustion.

V: Vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

She's concerned because the last thing she wants is to look unhygienic. Max is also very expressive when it comes to her style and her looks and it's something she puts great effort into. It makes her feel good.

W: Whole (would they feel incomplete without their s/o?)

I think a part of her would lose her edge. But Max could probably move forward without her significant other, but only if she has to, were it her choice, they'd be with her every step of the way. She wouldn't feel incomplete but she'd be lying if she said she wouldn't be deeply saddened without her s/o.

X: Xtra (what’s a random hc for them?)

She collects funko pops of the Justice League and especially Hawkman.

Y: Yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general?)

I feel like she dislikes smoking.

[ranhaitanisgf]

Hello so glad to see you write for Shinichiro!! Could I have some headcanons of spending the day as Shinichiro’s s/o with Shinichiro, Mikey, and Emma? Maybe having a picnic or going to the mall together? Just some fluffy Sano family time!

spending a day with shinichiro sano (feat. emma & manjiro sano): headcanons

[𖤐] hii anon; thank you for requesting this!! it was so cute and fluffy to write i kinda melted a little bit when i was writing this aaaa, i hope you like it!! <333

❧ masterlist

--

✂︎ honestly, the day was supposed to be just a casual date with shinichiro; going to the mall and doing some window shopping and maybe buying a few things, then going to the food court to get some food before riding to the riverside to watch the sunset. nothing really out there, but just spending time with him was enough for you, so you didn’t really need any sort of fancy date.

✂︎ at least, that was the original plan. you weren’t sure how you had ended up taking emma and mikey along with the two of you, but frankly, you didn’t really mind. there’s probably a lot of other people who would have some...thoughts, if their boyfriend’s little siblings tagged along on their date, but emma and mikey were always such sweethearts, (to you at least) so you actually thought it was a nice change of pace.

✂︎ hm, well, now that you think about it, the both of them coming wasn’t really supposed to happen in the first place. it was pretty nice weather out, so you and shinichiro had decided to walk to the mall instead of taking his bike. the both of you had figured it would be a nice change of pace and that the fresh air would do both of you some good, but you two were so wrapped up in your conversation with each other that you didn’t even notice the steps following you two. it wasn’t until you were almost at the mall that you and shinichiro had realized emma and mikey had tagged along.

“what were you thinking of buying, (y/n)?”

“hm, i’m not really too sure yet, maybe some-”

“i can’t believe that didn’t see us the entire walk!! we’re just that stealthy, emma!”

“what the hell-”

✂︎ and just like that, your date was crashed by the two little kids who had followed you on your way to the mall. according to emma, the only reason she was here was because she was trying to stop mikey, but by the time she finally was able to pull him back, she didn’t know how to get back home, so she just decided to follow you. according to mikey, he had followed you two because...well, just because he wanted to.

✂︎ mikey’s response earned him a punch on the head from shinichiro, who started yelling about how he can’t just crash his date, ‘just because he wants to’.

✂︎ it was obvious from his body language that shinichiro was feeling pretty exasperated from all this, and you can’t really blame him. i mean, who would expect for their little brother to purposefully follow him while he goes on a date?

“sorry about this (y/n), i should’ve noticed they were following us sooner. if you don’t mind, i can run them back real quick while you go look at some shops, how’s that?”

“...hm, actually, if it doesn’t bother you, how about we just take them with us? i don’t really mind that they came along; i really like emma and mikey, and if we take them with us, then you don’t have to go all the way back. is that alright with you?”

“are you sure, (y/n)? mikey can be a little troublemaker sometimes-”

“hey, shut up!! am not!!”

“yes you are!!”

“i’m sure it’s fine, now both of you stop yelling at each other, people are staring!!”

✂︎ gonna be honest here, the two of you looked like a family when you walked into the mall. mikey was sitting on shinichiro’s shoulders while shinichiro kept a firm grip on his legs, and emma was holding your much bigger hand in her smaller one, looking around a bit curiously.

✂︎ as you all walk around, looking at the different shops, there’s going to be a lot of commentary about literally everything from mikey. he’s going to be commentating on everything he sees, whether it’s clothing or a food stand that he wants to go try, his commentary will just be endless.

“do girls really wear that sort of thing??”

“woah, that looks super cool!”

“can we get the dorayaki that’s over there, (y/n)-nii?!”

✂︎ you’ll probably start to notice emma’s longing glances at some of the things that she sees in the windows. she won’t really say anything about it, but you can tell that it’s something she wants, so you’ll go into a couple of the stores with her, asking what it is that she wants. she’ll definitely be surprised at first, but she’ll get really excited that you’re willing to get stuff for her and will show you the things that she thinks are pretty. she’ll probably start talking about how she wants to be able to wear all of the cute stuff she saw in some of the other windows someday, so you just ruffle her hair and tell her that when the time comes, you’ll definitely buy it for her.

✂︎ your actions don’t go unnoticed by shinichiro, so he’ll just be waiting for you outside the store with mikey, looking at you with a small smile on his face. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he sees you getting along with her and mikey, it just warms his heart and reminds him of how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you for the rest of his life.

“stop staring at (y/n)-nii, it’s weird.”

“wha- i wasn’t-!”

“yes you were! i saw you!!”

“be quiet mikey, i’m trying to have my moment!”

✂︎ ah, well, he actually does know why his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you smiling and getting along with emma and mikey, but he’ll save that for later.

✂︎ when you and emma walk out of the store, the giddy smile on her face makes shinichiro smile down at her before turning his gaze to you, who was looking at her with a giant grin on your face as well.

“let’s go look at some more places?”

“definitely!!”

✂︎ emma is a lot more vocal from that point onward, pointing out all the different things in the shops that she thinks would look best on you. she actually has a pretty good fashion sense, so you ended up buying some of the stuff that she suggested.

✂︎ she’ll even have you try on all the clothing that she picked out for you so that you can show shinichiro, (she whispers to you it’s so that he’s struck with love when he sees you). her plan definitely worked though; when you came out of the dressing room in the clothes she had picked out for you, shinichiro was wordless for a few moments, so captivated by you that he doesn’t even know what it is he should say. he’ll probably stutter out some words after a few moments, the broken sentence resembling that of a compliment, but you’re not quite sure since it’s all pretty broken up.

“wow, uh, you look, uh...wow, you’re very...wow…”

“shinichiro-nii, can’t you think of anything else?! i thought you were supposed to be their boyfriend!! you’re making my plan fail!!”

✂︎ mikey will probably be more interested in going to the food court, and will be asking every five minutes when you guys can be finished with window shopping so that he can eat because he’s absolutely starving, (it’s a lie, he just wants dorayaki).

✂︎ you’ll probably tell shinichiro that he should probably get some new clothing as well, with emma chiming in that his taste in clothes is kinda boring and that he should spice up his wardrobe, (he feels very wounded by this and puts a hand to his heart as if he’s been fatally shot). with that, the four of you will start to look for new clothes for shinichiro. it’s quite the serious mission, so the three of you will be closely examining him whenever he steps outside of the dressing rooms. it’s also like you three are judges at a fashion show, and if you could, you would all be holding up numbers that were rating his outfits, (the employees are fairly amused by all of this).

✂︎ after you all finally find some new clothes for shinichiro, you’ll be making your final stop at the food court, the place mikey has been pestering you about going to for the entire time you were there. he immediately dragged you all over to the dorayaki place, eagerly asking if he could get one. really though, how could you say no to those eyes?

✂︎ after getting everyone something to eat, you’ll all be sitting down, emma and mikey chomping down and their food, and you and shinichiro resting your feet after all the walking you had just done.

“remind me to never bring you to the mall on a date again.”

“what, you didn’t have fun?”

“no! no, that’s not it, i just...my wallet feels lighter than before…”

“you’re so dramatic sometimes, i swear.”

“but you love me.”

“...yes.”

✂︎ by the time you all are done with your food and are exiting the mall, it’s dark out, and emma and mikey are barely able to keep their eyes open, meaning that for the walk home, you were carrying emma on your back and shinichiro was carrying mikey. the walk back was rather peaceful, but what you enjoyed the most was the whispered conversation you were keeping up with your boyfriend, who was complaining about how mikey was drooling on his neck and he could feel it dripping down to his shoulder.

✂︎ after putting both the kids in their respective bedrooms and tucking them in, the two of you just crash on shinichiro’s bed, tired from all the events that had happened that day. you really had to admit though, it was times like these that you would always remember the most. the way he looked like when he was beside you, his eyes already closed as he rested his head on your arm. god, he looked so pretty…

“hmm, what do you think you’re doing?”

“just fixing the hair of my beautiful boyfriend, that’s all.”

“i see...carry on then.”

✂︎ neither of you bothered to change out of your clothes into pajamas, just deciding to leave them on and stay in each other’s embrace. in your opinion, there was truly no better way to end a day than to have shinichiro on your arms, his head fixed into the crook of your shoulder as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“love you so much (y/n)...”

“mhm, i love you too.”

--

[takuyakistall]

to yuu.

Note: I wanted to write short HCs for each character as they wrote the letter when I finished reading everyone's thank you messages (◕ᴗ◕✿) ! All of them are very cute and I couldn't help but get some midnight rot so I had to write it down. Here's the link to the post where every message is listed down. Before you start reading, just a heads up, most of these are written in a romantic light. I also recommend reading the letters themselves first before heading here.

Characters: All students + Grim (Excluding Ortho)

Riddle Rosehearts

"Dear friend," Riddle thought that it was the most appropriate way to address you—or at least, that's what his brain is trying to make him think. Ever since overblotting and you helping him snap out of his frenzy, he had difficulty in labeling what exactly you were to him.

Before everything, you were supposed to be just a mere acquaintance to him and yet here you were sending him gifts out of the blue. The general "rule" towards receiving gifts was to give the giver your thanks. Albeit the better option was to thank you personally, he thought that maybe a letter would be better so that he can sort out his thoughts.

Friend. He nodded, proceeding to write down the rest of his message until he realized that this was an opportunity to invite you to tea with him under the pretense of paying you back for the gift. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he continued writing.

Surely, you would accept his invitation, right?

Trey Clover

"Hey you," was that too casual? Too rude sounding? Trey shook his head as he stared at the two words. He hadn't been expecting a gift from you and frankly, he was more than a bit surprised. Though perhaps he hadn't read the "gift" part when he suddenly started writing down questions about what you liked.

He immediately started thinking of how he should pay you back—gifts? He doesn't know your taste that well. Favours? Hmm, he's not too sure about that one. That's why he decided to ask, if there was something you wanted—he'll do his best to find it for you. A tempting offer, right?

It seems like you have to tell him that this wasn't a trade.

Cater Diamond

"Helloooooo," he started off. The extra amount of Os he used was proof that he's trying to take this occurrence casually. Though in the inside he was absolutely beaming. Gifts never fail to put a smile on his face, especially if it came from someone you didn't expect to give you a gift or someone special to him.

In this case, it was probably the latter. He took a small break as he stared at your gift, wondering what he should write. A small smile took over his face as he picked up his phone and snapped a few selfies of him with your gift with a caption before hitting the post button.

"Received a gift from a dear friend, isn't it amazing? ♪"

Deuce Spade

"Friend," Deuce rarely got to experience receiving gifts from friends to one another judging how his past years were spent as a delinquent. To say that he was happy to receive one from you was an understatement, he was over the moon.

He felt the need to mention it to you with a huge grin on his face. He thought of various ways to give you something back as he let out a small hum, he felt like he was having a field day. He signed the message and told himself that today was going to be a great day.

Ace Trappola

"Hey you," Ace was terribly suspicious of the fact that you sent him a gift out of the blue. Were you trying to buy him silence over something you did? Were you trying to convince him to do your homework for you? A lot of questions springed up inside his mind but not once did he think that it was just a genuine, sweet gift with no ulterior motives hidden beneath.

He knew that you would get mad at him if he continued to suspect you so he said that he was kidding in all caps with three dots after that—which didn't help his situation at all.

He felt awkward trying to convey his feelings like this and he ruffled his own hair as he told you that he just needed to tell you something later, when you're face-to-face. That would make it easier for him to speak.

Leona Kingscholar

"Good day," Leona uncharacteristically typed. He felt like he was being held at gunpoint by his past etiquette teachers as he tried to think of an appropriate response. If it were up to him, he would've just slapped a "thank you" on a piece of paper and asked Ruggie to give it to you.

Though he thought that perhaps it was better for him to actually put in effort for once. Even if it seemed like his so called effort seemed like something he just stole from the internet—that was more than enough, right? He'll just put his signature at the bottom and ask Ruggie to give it to you.

Ruggie Bucchi

"Hey you," a big grin took over his face as he wrote down his first few words. He wasn't as experienced as other people when it came to writing down messages of gratitude, he once tried consulting Leona about it—asking how to make it sound decent only to be met with an answer that went like: "Just put whatever."

And that's what he did! Truly, he's thankful for receiving a gift. For a split second, he wondered if he should share it with the people back in his homeland. Though he pushed that thought to the back of his head as he signed the bottom of the paper with his signature. He'll figure that out once he gives the letter to you.

Jack Howl

"Friend," he doesn't know what to say it's embarassing. Even in letters, he still manages to retain that straightforward yet somewhat roundabout personality of his. A tinge of embarrassment seeping through the letter.

He wished he could've just talked to you in person instead but alas, he was stuck here trying to rack his brain for words. In the end, he felt like it was best to keep it simple—the slightly demanding tone at the end was the result of him getting flustered at the thought that it's possible that it could be a date between the two of you.

Azul Ashengrotto

"My dear friend," Azul couldn't count the number of times he had crumpled a piece of paper and threw it into the trashcan only to get a new one—rinse and repeat. Jade and Floyd had to stifle their laughter when they saw how distressed he was over a single message. Though, perhaps that was the fruit of his unconventional feelings towards the giver.

He didn't want to sound too stiff and professional to the point that he sounded like a robot but also, he didn't want to sound too casual to the point that you might find it weird. He had to let out a small sigh as he ruffled his hair, another piece of paper thrown into the trash can before deciding that he should just play it safe and give you a free drink.

Jade Leech

"To my dearest," oh no. His hand slipped and accidentally made his greeting more intimate than it should be, he could go back and change it but—fufu, where's the fun in all of that? His lips tugged up into a smirk as he continued writing, knowing full well that what he was implying would evoke an interesting reaction out of you. But, if that wasn't enough to stir you up a bit then why not put a little more something? He was a prick this way.

He spotted an empty space on one of his shelves in the corner of his eye, glancing at it for a few seconds before an idea popped into his head. A smile that barely showed off his sharp canines, hidden beneath his gloved hand.

"Truly. Would I lie to you?"

Floyd Leech

"Little shrimpy," he grinned. Floyd was in an especially good mood today after receiving such a thoughtful gift from you. He played with his pen in hand, spinning it around as a distant look took over his face when he tried thinking about the reason why you gave him a gift out of nowhere.

Knowing that Floyd pays a little more attention to you than others, he was bound to be curious and he was more than eager to find out—there's always a reason behind someone's actions, after all. He tried expressing his intent to get the answer out of you which came out a little threatening but if you saw the look on his face there's no mistaking that it was an even bigger threat than you initially thought.

Kalim Al-Asim

"Hey love," Kalim was as straightforward as ever. Not a single filter as he wrote down his raw feelings. There was no reason for him to hesitate especially now that he was practically about to shake from pure joy—he was incredibly close to signing the letter and hopping into his magic carpet to give it to you personally but Jamil was there beside him to stop him if he ever does that.

Though that didn't mean that it was gonna stop him from wanting to ask you out on a magic carpet date with him, he'll just have to explain to Jamil when you accept his invitation. That is assuming you'll accept, right?

Jamil Viper

"Dear friend," Kalim practically forced him to write a letter back to you. Jamil wasn't an ingrate, he knew when to show gratitude when it was appropriate but he preferred thanking you in person. He had to settle for this in the meantime, he thought that maybe he'll just invite you to Scarabia to talk about what he could give in return.

He hadn't really expected a gift from you, especially with all the trouble he might've caused you due to his overblot. Though he didn't think it was all that bad. In fact, he felt a little relieved that you didn't hold any grudge against him.

Vil Schoenheit

"My dear," Vil had an unmistakable smirk placed upon his lips. The choice of words he wrote managed to give out a slightly smug vibe as he stared at your gift on his desk. Impressed by your ability for finding him a suitable gift, he decided to give you a little bit in return.

His smirk slowly turned into a gentle smile as he imagined your face probably tearing up at the thought of him giving you a signed card, he couldn't help but put an offhanded comment near the end. But it was quickly followed up with a single bit of rare praise from him.

Rook Hunt

"Hey love," Rook was always one to act dramatically whenever he had the chance and even in letters, he managed to sound dramatic. As soon as he realized that you had sent him a gift he started gushing about how wonderful it was and how inspiration was raining down on him like tiny droplets.

What's a better way to let his raw emotions out than poetry? That's right, this man wrote you a poem expressing how he feels because of your gift. He almost forgot to say his gratitude because he got carried away but thankfully, Epel pointed it out to him before he could give it to you.

Epel Felmier

"Dear friend," he rarely got any gifts from anyone outside his relatives so when he saw you give him a gift, he was excited to say the least. There's always a certain joy you can evoke in a person when you give them a gift it was almost euphoric for some. He thought that it was sweet of you to give him a gift and decided to give one back with a small message.

Friend. For some reason, it felt a bit off addressing you as that but he quickly shook his head and shot down that thought. As for his gift, he prepared a little something he made himself. Hehe, he's quite proud of it too!

Idia Shroud

"@YOU" it was interesting how Idia didn't bother changing to formal speech when he decided to give you a thank you message for your gift. He's typing the same way he would to his friend, namely "Crimson Muscle", but perhaps that was because he didn't know of any other way to talk to you without sounding unnatural or weird.

People would normally not even think about giving him something and yet you gave him one. He couldn't help but smile a bit when he said how you were a bit of an oddball—he came up with various nicknames for you inside his head. Most of them being different words for the term "weirdo". Yet they always had a hint of affection whenever he would think of it.

Malleus Draconia

"Dearest," Malleus started off. It was rare that he received gifts from people outside his family or nobles back in the Valley since a lot of people found him intimidating—terrifying for some, even. He was glad that you felt comfortable enough around him to show simple gestures such as these. Upon receiving your gift, Lilia noticed how it came from you and urged Malleus to write his thank you message differently from how he usually writes it.

Did you perhaps know of the legends surrounding the Thorn Witch...? If so, then maybe he could sneak in a little joke. The gift of beauty and the gift of song—ah, nevermind. He pursed his lips slightly, he'll just handpick a gift for you himself. A small gargoyle statue, maybe. Or he could ask the other members of Diasomnia to help him.

Lilia Vanrouge

"My dear," his lips formed a small smirk. Lilia appreciated all surprises, big or small. Though, in particular, something about your surprise gift made him more excited about it than usual. Was that just his old age getting to him or was it something else? He couldn't be bothered to think about it that much.

As a form of gratitude, he weighed his options. It was either giving you a gift back or letting you ask a favour of him. He thought the latter would be more acceptable until an idea popped into his head as his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He knew you didn't know what it exactly meant but he gave you his signature nonetheless—he'll leave you to figure out.

Silver

"Hey you," Lilia taught Silver that it was common courtesy to show gratitude when someone gives him a gift. He tried thinking of countless ways to say thank you with his old man bugging him to ask you out on a date instead in the background. In the end, he paid Lilia no attention and instead went with the standard short message and giving a gift back.

He urged himself not to fall asleep as he typed out his message even though he already let out a yawn without him noticing. He glanced at the screen blankly, wondering if he forgot to add anything until he slowly felt himself snoozing off. Head resting on the keyboard and typing out whatnot. When Lilia arrived at the scene, he didn't bother waking him up and just sent the message as it is.

Silver was so embarassed the next day and refused to talk to Lilia temporarily.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human," he didn't even try addressing you as anything else other than that even in letters. When he found a gift lying by his room, he was a tad suspicious but loosened up when he read the tag attached to it. As stated, it came from you and the gift was meant for Malleus—wait, what. Sebek scrunched up his face as his eyes scanned the words printed on it.

"To Sebek Zigvolt" This was a mistake, right? Sebek was a bit flushed but quickly shook it off by saying how it was probably a subterfuge or whatever that was. There was no way it was for actually for him, right? Surely, you must've sent this in hopes of hearing more about the great Malleus Draconia. Right?

That is... Wonderful!

Grim

"Dear underling," it was cute how he made an effort to write you a letter despite being in the same dorm wherein he could just talk to you directly. But perhaps he was so touched to the extent that he wanted to do this—did you give him tuna? He struggled thanking you properly and ended up boasting about how he was going to be the greatest sorcerer.

Even though he called you underling at first, he couldn't help but soften up a bit. That didn't sit right with him somehow, he didn't know why. He let out a groan as he racked his head for a more appropriate word until-!

Partner... Sounds about right.

[hms-no-fun]

if you don't mind me asking, how did you know you were polyamorous? how did you talk to your partner about being poly?

honestly it just sorta happened?

thing is, i've never been very good in monogamous relationships for a number of reasons. i'm extremely grey-asexual, and was even more so before i started HRT. and i found the idea that i had to be everything my partner needed very, uh. stressful. i swore off relationships for a number of years in my late 20s because i convinced myself i had to be aromantic and just couldn't really be with other people healthily.

my first post-transition gf was already dating someone else when we met, and she was openly poly. when things first started to seem like they might get, idk, "serious" between us, we did a group chat with her partner and just kinda talked it through. for whatever reason i never had a problem with it. frankly it felt natural. i'm not a jealous person, and i was uncomfortable with the presumption that i was supposed to be jealous. like if i found another person attractive that was shameful, or if someone showed attraction towards my partner that was an insult???? i mean it depends on the situation of course but like, god cishets really do seem to think that a human person is always in total control of their thoughts and the movement of their eyes, neither of which is basically ever true but they're ESPECIALLY not true when you're under pressure to never commit thought crime against [checks notes] a person you presumably want to spend a significant amount of time with?? christ, imagine having a relationship that fragile, that tense. exhausting!

obviously, this is a conversation. every relationship is different. my gf and i discussed our boundaries and felt like, casual sex is fine, but if we start feeling like someone might be a new Big Relationship Person we should talk it out first. not in a judgy "i'm telling you what to do" way, but just. idk, a new partner tends to eat time, and that's great! but it's also easy to get carried away and grow neglectful. it's a negotiation more about time and commitment and etc etc that changes shape every time. there's nothing threatening to it imo

i'm a reclusive person. i need my own time and my own space. being poly comes naturally to me because i always found monogamous relationships tiresome. i'd literally dream of being in a relationship where i didn't have to be everything, where i could watch my partner and someone else be cute together and be both extremely happy that she's happy, AND extremely relieved that i don't have to make myself be affectionate all the time when i'm just not feeling up for it.

and like. i met my second gf because she was dating a girl i had a crush on who had a crush on me. after getting to know that girl better i felt like, idk, i don't know if i want to DATE her, but i still want to be good friends. i think our current setup, as i guess "metamours", is the ideal relationship. i've got my two gfs, i've got my gf's gf, i'm surrounded by smart and sexy women who care about me and it rules!

i always struggled to understand why romantic feelings were so contentious for other people. i remember expressing to a friend that i had a crush on him when we were in high school and he FLIPPED SHIT, and i had to run it back super hard and play it off as a joke. but it didn't make sense to me that he'd be offended because, idk, doesn't everyone fall a little bit in love with the people they spend all their time with? isn't it normal for good friends to want to platonically kiss a little after a good game of halo 3? took me a VERY long time to learn that no, actually, apparently they don't. it was always so torturous to feel like, man, i have this crush and i know it's not gonna go anywhere, but if i don't say it out loud and just find out for sure how they feel, i'll never be able to let it go... then again IF i say it then there's a better than zero chance that they'll hate me forever, suddenly, for some reason. to me they were just feelings, weird little chemical jolts that give you funny thoughts, and yet to other people they seemed as real as a knife to the throat. so i got into the habit of never expressing those feelings. very good and healthy behavior our society encourages

i never understood why no one believed me when i said that if you don't feel the same way about me as i feel about you, that's fine. not long after i came out as trans, i told a girl i spent a lot of time with that i had a crush on her, and she was like... well, she expressed disappointment because she'd told me not a week before that she wasn't a lesbian and really disliked how often she got pegged as a lesbian. which was surreal because i was still like, baby baby baby trans and i hadn't put those twos together. she took my gender more seriously than i did! and we pretty much stopped being friends after that, which was such a bummer.

so polyamory comes naturally to me. it feels like the way i always wanted relationships to work but dared never dream they realistically could. it helps that i'm almost 33 and just generally fucking Over It vis-a-vis traditional romantic bullshit. i always hated small talk and dating, performing the ritual of Getting To Know Each Other. the person you put on when you want someone to like you isn't really you and i always knew that. i've never been capable of being anyone other than myself and it's just, it's SO nice to be with people who are just as easygoing about relationships as i am.

love isn't a commodity, it isn't scarce, and it isn't a zero sum game.

polyamory isn't easy, of course. it requires a level of vulnerability and honesty that, i mean, is just as necessary in monogamous relationships too? but monogamous relationships tend to come with the assumption of pretending to love each other for the sake of their financial-biological business arrangement ("marriage"), at least in my experience. so they're "easy" in the sense that we have a common cultural understanding of what a marriage is supposed to look like (blissfully happy or bitterly resentful, nothing in between). we don't have centuries of polyam stories to tell us how we're supposed to hate each other- ugh sorry i'm being really salty here lmao. we don't have centuries of polyam stories to tell us what a polycule is "supposed" to look like, so you kinda have to invent it yourself. that requires honest conversation and a LOT of patience, which i say again is sort of a prerequisite for any healthy relationship but we live in a fucking insane society that thinks love is a glory hole that cooks dinner for you, so i guess polyamory has a reputation as being "harder." i don't think it is.

it's just like anything in life, really. you work at it and sometimes the work pays off and sometimes it doesn't. you fuck it up over and over until you don't. there are shitty people who will use any system or dynamic to get what they want out of others, but that's not a result of being with multiple people, that's a result of being raised by aforementioned fucking insane society and, generally, a shitty person being true to their nature.

[formulawonu]

Hi! I have a request for you if you can, can a request based on “champagne problems” by taylor swift where either daniel, lando, lewis or carlos are dating the reader and think it’s time to propose, and they do it in front of their families or the whole grid but the reader says no, and they broke up, and years later they run into each other again and talk. you can choose the ending between fluff or keep it angst.

champagne problems / lewis hamilton

(gif is not mine! credits to the owner)

warnings: angsty :'(

a/n: i fell in love with this request, thank you so much for it. i got immensely sad writing the last few lines of this :/ taylor swift knows what she is doing. i hope my writing did justice to this beautifully sad song <//3 tried doing smth different and wrote in third person/more of lewis' pov. big cheers to lewis getting 100 wins — what an incredible feat!!! hope you guys enjoy this one :D

He thinks he sees her from across the room but an extra glance tells him it’s not her. She wouldn’t show up here. That isn’t her — something he’s had to learn ever since she left his life two years ago. He is here with someone new and she reminds him of the stars that never fail to show up in the night sky every night. She is constant and he doesn’t need to second guess with her. She understands who he is and knows what he thinks. He is genuinely happy. But she is not her.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He says, looking up at the love of his life from where he is kneeling. They are surrounded by his family and their friends. The most important people in their lives that have become an extension of who they are and know how perfect the two of them are for each other. He planned it all out — the intimate dinner full of all the things she loved. Her favorite food, her favorite people. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Everyone in this room knew it was only a matter of time until they both took the next step forward in the relationship. In this moment, however, he only sees her. That is how it is whenever she is around. It feels like tunnel vision: all roads lead simply to her.

He has always believed that love was unique to different people. He is, no doubt, in love with his current girlfriend and he is so sure of that. She is the calm before and after every storm. He also knows that despite this, a piece of him and the love he is capable of giving will always remain with Y/N. He will never forget how it felt to love her, just as he knows she won’t ever forget loving him.

Something is wrong. All he sees is her and yet she looks terrified. Tears are forming in her eyes and there is an emotion that he can’t quite place yet. It is an emotion he doesn’t see often. “Y/N?” He whispers, trying to read her. At this moment, he doesn’t care that everyone is standing around the both of them. He just wants to make sure she is okay. She looks away from him and looks around the room. He squeezes her hand, trying to get her to just focus on him. He is trying to reassure her that everything is okay. She looks back at him then at the open small box in his other hand. She starts shaking her head, the tears now falling from her eyes. Everything seems to be going wrong.

“I love you, Lewis.” His girlfriend whispers as he sways her back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It is his friend’s wedding. “I love you more.” He is satisfied with the way his life has turned out. It was difficult the first few months she had left his life and he honestly thought life wouldn’t be okay again. Everything reminded him of her. There were pieces of her in his apartment and pieces of her everywhere he went. Time passed by so slowly as if it wanted him to sink in the emptiness that came when he lost her. But he met her — she made everything bright again and allowed him to see colors in the world that turned grey. She was patient with him. She took the time to understand him and let him find himself again. He is happy. He is in love.

“I- I can’t.” She whispers, still shaking her head. The tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He understands the emotion in her eyes now. She is overwhelmed. It is regret. He can feel tears building up in his own. Everything begins to spin around the two of them. “Lewis, I… I can’t.” He tries to remain holding her hand, but she forces hers out of his hold. He looks up at her, speechless. There are so many things he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her to forget about everyone around the two of them. He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter how it happens or that they don’t need to get married right away. He would be happy being engaged forever if it meant she would be by his side. He wants to tell her that they could ditch the party and just lock themselves up in their apartment if that was what she wanted. But he doesn’t. He can’t because she is long gone now. She has run outside of the room and has left him in the center of everyone’s gaze. He cannot move. He is stuck on one knee, with his mother’s ring in his hand. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. The first thing he does is close the box and drop it in his suit pocket. He slowly stands up, refusing to look at anyone else. He doesn’t know how to react or how to be. Everything is wrong.

While he is leading his girlfriend back to their table, something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. He has to blink a couple of times, trying to register that it is actually her. There, standing by the bar, is the girl who had left him two years ago. She is standing on her own, her body language still very familiar to him. She does not want to be seen and is trying to simply be a faceless stranger in the crowd. She would not be here if she didn’t need to, but his friends are her friends too and the bride is a good friend of hers. “That’s her, isn’t it?” His girlfriend says, following his gaze. “She’s beautiful.” He flashes a smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t think she was going to be here, actually. None of us have actually seen her since it happened.” “Do you want to say hi to her?” He fully focuses on his girlfriend now, trying to understand if she is challenging him or simply curious. All he sees is genuine questioning. “I think you should speak to her, Lewis.” He is unsure if that is the right decision. He does not know what he wants to say to her anyway. “Go. It will make you feel better, even if you don’t know what to say.” She gently nudges him towards her and he is left reluctantly walking towards the woman he has not spoken to since she left him kneeling.

“Hi.” Words escape the both of them, the casualness of a greeting seeming so unfitting for the two. “Hi.” She replies. “How ironic that we’re seeing each other here.” He offers, trying to break the ice. He is not used to this, the awkwardness enveloping the two of them when once in the past he felt he could talk about absolutely anything with her. She visibly draws back at the reminder of the last time they had seen each other too. “Why are you here, Lewis?” She asks with a smile on her face. She was never the type to beat around the bush, that much he knew. She always went straight to the point, never afraid to hear things she might not want to. Like ripping off a bandaid, she once said. “I honestly don’t know why either.” There was no point in lying to her. He doesn’t know what to say, neither does she, and yet it felt right that he could speak frankly to her about the events of the past. “You look happy,” She starts, looking genuinely pleased for him. “You deserve to be happy.” Two emotions bubble up inside of him, one he has not felt in ages. Frustration and defeat. It is all coming back to him.

“We could’ve been happy too.”

She sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. She is still surveying the room, taking in everyone celebrating the union of two lovers. He did not like that about her; she always knew how to hide her emotions. Better put, he did not like how he could not read her anymore. “I don’t want to fight you, Lewis. I didn’t come here to do that.” She picks up her glass of champagne that she has left on the counter of the bar, sipping at it. “Dom Pérignon.” She adds. The champagne she is drinking is her favorite and it is the same one that everyone was drinking the night it happened. Or should’ve happened. A wry smile forms on his face. “I know you don’t owe me an explanation nor should you have ever felt you owed me a marriage, but I just wish you talked to me about it. That was our thing. We always talked about it.” She finally meets his eyes, studying him.

“I just didn’t have anything to say.”

“How could you have nothing to say?”

“I did not know what to say.”

“Then you should’ve said that.”

“I did not have a reason, Lewis. Is that what you want to hear? When you got down on one knee, a thousand thoughts were in my head and none of them told me to say yes. I’m so sorry and you know I loved you immensely—I still do—but I could not for the life of me come up with a reason to know for sure I wanted to say yes.” Just like ripping off a bandaid.

He does not know what to say and he wants to laugh at how she is still able to leave him speechless after all this time. “Well, I’m sorry you felt that way.” That is all he is able to say in reply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes.” She finally meets his eyes, the familiar gaze of the woman he once swore he would give everything up for. “My mom wants a sorry too.” He finally says after a while, trying to lighten up the mood. “I miss her.” She replies, a small smile forming on her face. His mom absolutely loved her and held a special place in her heart for her. She was just as crestfallen as he was when she saw what had taken place two years ago. “She misses you too. Everyone kind of misses you too. I don’t understand why you had to disappear.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me, Lewis. All of this,” She says, gesturing around the grand ballroom. “Is not me.” “Then why are you here?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just wants to know. She frowns at him. “Because Joe and Louise are my good friends, Lew. I wasn’t planning to stay long, though. I just promised Louise I was going to come by and I keep my promises.” He knows she does. He shakes his head at her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice to see you again, honestly. Nice to know you’re still alive.” “I know you didn’t. But I just don’t know who I am when I’m here. It’s all so….” She pauses, trying to think of the right word. “Intense? Overwhelming? Heavy? I don’t know. It just makes you feel so small.” He nods but he still can’t grasp that she had felt this way all this time. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. “Don’t blame yourself, Lewis. I can see you doing that now. It was just me.” There is amusement in her eyes and he can’t understand how she is so candid about all of this. “I just don’t understand how I feel like I didn’t- don’t know who you are. I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

She studies him, noting how the creases in his forehead have formed. Something he always does when he is deep in thought. “Lewis, you knew me better than anyone else in this world and I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t. What we shared was good, right? It was brilliant.” She offers him a small smile, a consolation for all that has gone on between them. “I will always love you. I don’t think I need to tell you that. You will always be special to me. But what was screaming at me when you got down on one knee was that whatever was happening… It wasn’t right. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever let you go into something so wholeheartedly with me in it half-heartedly. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who would jump into darkness headfirst with you. I hope she is that for you.” She glances around the room again, probably noticing the eyes of spectators that have now noticed the both of you together again. She is beginning to get conscious. The emotions that were beginning to reveal themselves through her eyes are disappearing once again. She is withdrawing. He nods, trying to internalize everything she has just said.

“I’m sorry I lost you. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I’m sorry we ended like that. There are times I wish you were still in my life and there are times I still think about what it would be like if it was us in this position.” His words hang in the air, the both of them looking around the room. “But I’m doing okay. She’s great - I think you two would get along, actually. I honestly hope you’re doing okay. It sucks that I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you know that you’re still always welcome to just hang out or whatever. Have a chat to update me on your life, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” She nods, smiling at him. She drinks the rest of her champagne before setting the glass back on the bar counter. “That is great to hear, Lewis. I still keep up with your races, you know? A hundred wins, you’ve finally done it. No matter what, I am always going to be proud.” She places a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting squeeze on it, then she drops it. “I’ll try not to be one. But either way, just know I’ll always be rooting for you.” She straightens out her dress then tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve gotta go.” She says, looking up at him. He tries to remember how she looks in this moment because he knows he doesn’t know the next time their paths will ever cross again. She is in a floor-length dress and her hair falls in waves just by her shoulders. Her eyes alight with assuredness and confidence, something that he now realizes he barely saw back then. She is happy too. That is all that matters. He nods, giving her a small smile. “Goodbye, Y/N.” She smiles back at him too. “Goodbye, Lewis.” She begins to walk away, not once looking back. Just like how it was two years ago.

“Hey, Y/N.” He calls out to her. She is not far enough for him to draw attention. She turns around, her head tiled to the side. “We almost had it all, didn’t we?” She chuckles and he can feel the sadness in it. She nods, still chuckling. “We really did. Cheers.”

[catgirlxox]

Another ramble, Omniverse gave us something we didn't get to see very often with Ben in previous contexts: Ben interacting with strangers. Not girls he thinks are cute like Julie or people he's meeting on the job but just like casual Ben and it's night and day from how he talks to his family and friends- people he's known for years and relaxes around or needs to confident for. We also meet No Watch Ben. And from what we see he's pretty laid back, he doesn't try to convince people he's great like when he was a kid trying to compete with Gwen for grandpas attention and time.

He's not popular but he's not unpopular, and he works well in team contexts enough that his room is littered in a bunch of different team sports gear and Ben won an award for soccer. No Watch Ben doesn't even get angry at Kevin when he steals Ben's watch, more bummed about not feeling like he really helped his team win. He even made friends with his bullies without the hero stuff to prompt it but without sacrificing his character.

Heck we even see it with Rook in the first episodes, despite not wanting him as a partner he isn't mean to Rook. He just doesn't want to get Rook's hopes up on the partner thing because it Wasn't discussed with Ben and well, he's knew. And because of some taunts from Zombozo Ben got it into his head that its time he prove he can do things on his own- like the ben 10k's of the future handling most of his enemies solo. Ben's caught off guard and expected to just roll with a stranger claiming he was assigned to help Ben without Ben having the time to confirm that one: he actually is a plumber and two: Grandpa actually did that to em.

Like yes we know grandpa was probably going to tell Ben before the mission started but only AFTER already choosing Ben's partner for him, telling Rook it's official, and Rooks already at earth waiting to meet Ben. Ben was probably the LAST person told this.

But he still does his job. Granted he does it while absolutely dazzled by the secret underground alien city NOBODY BOTHERED TO MENTION TO HIM GWEN OR KEVIN (like wtf grandpa) But his job he still does. Episode 5 have I got a deal for you is a personal favorite of mine for Ben's characterization and seeing him handle the situation on his own- if with the professors device helping at the end Ben handled the situation great. He was still goofy but he also got to show off that he's not stupid or easy to dupe and empathized a bit with Pax in the end which i loved "he means well, which makes him even more dangerous." Because Pax was reckless and didn't handle the situation with enough knowledge- and is a take immediate action without thinking the consequences through or explaining potential dangers kinda guy.

Also I loved hotstreak- Mostly how obvious it is that Ben just, doing his job. He's treating Ester like he would any crook he's tailing. For us it's clear he recognizes he's being flirted with- especially when he's backing off from her hug and making excuses to leave the situation at the end of the ep. Also how he just fucks with Rook.

Rook is being weird, one minute he's acting like Ben should respond to Esters flirting and accommodate ( Are you going to stay like that? how long does it take for the omnitrix to time out? I think our crook prefers this ben much more hint hint nudge nudge smirk) for her because she likes him but then gets mad when Ben accepts her invitation to play with her friends? Acts like Bens the one being unreasonable after insinuating Ben should be friendly to the thief so I dont know what was up with him this ep and Frankly if Ben did reciprocate he would have been cheating on Julie, because as far as he and the audience knew he was dating Julie at the time of the episode! Not acting on esters flirting and affections was the good response to it.

Ben's just kinda chill guy who likes a little adventure in his life and craves good company, and likes being appreciated for his work but learned its better not to demand it (and that captain narcissist nemesis isn't a hero worth emulating/aspiring to be like) Omniverse's Ben is my favorite for it, he still acts confident and like himself but the writers let him hold the braincell sometimes without everyone looking at him like he's shoving a knife in a on blender. (even in Alien force season 1 that's rare, and Ben was actively leader and in high stress serious mode) Idk maybe I just like the lighter tone and more cartoony action :)

Oh my god, don't even get me started on the implications of No Watch Ben. That scene you mentioned where the Kevin of that universe steals his watch and he has little to no reaction to it? Yeah, in conjunction with his clear lack of confidence due to the fact that he feels like there is a void in his life, that just serves to further imply that feels no reason to care.

Like, it's obvious that scene was supposed to be this parody of the Prime Timeline without the supernatural powers, but it just goes to show the impact those characters can have on their universe and each other when given the power to do so. The bullies becoming his friends instead ties into that, too, since they wouldn't have a reason to feel inferior to another average kid their age. It really is the man and not the tool, I think they were trying to say.

"Have I Got a Deal for You" was one of my faves too, back in the day. Comparing the way Ben was written in both that one and "Hot Stretch," I think you meant, I definitely agree. A lot of the haters seem to ignore the rational part of his character, despite the fact that it's there. He's got so much experience under his belt that he knows not to trust blindly. Even a girl being too friendly or flirty could be hiding something, and his responsibility is to keep the earth from harm. Since it's established he's willing to forgive people's wrongdoings (for instance Kevin's criminal past or the Highbreed's problematic beliefs), he keeps an open mind to where people are coming from but maintains that preventing disaster is his first priority. Ultimately, he's just trying to do his job, or in other words, "the right thing." Which has become his day to day. Omniverse really served to make that clear.

Or, at least I thought so. Thnx for watching the series and actually understanding the character and being reasonable :P

[sugaxjpg]

ghosts just wanna have fun; m

⤷  When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Psychic!AU & MedSchool!AU

✓ Filed under: fluff, crack (so many ghost puns), light smut (and jungkook being a nervous virgin) 

✓ Words: 20,062

Author’s Note: In which Jungkook is able to see spirits, but it’s just Taehyung and Yoongi giving him dating tips because he sucks at talking to girls. Hope you guys like it, because it has been on my WIPS for over a year and a half and I can’t believe it’s finally out there... emotional, really.

Also, huge thanks to @storytaeme​, who proof-read this mess like a champ. 

 There aren’t many embarrassing situations that can overcome the fact that Jeon Jungkook found out about his psychic abilities as he was about to lose his virginity. 

To say the least, that hadn’t been the most pleasant of scenarios to open the pathway to the afterlife. Really, there was no casual way that he could justify the scream that broke from his lips, or the dramatic spin he took as he turned around on the bed — which, ultimately, had him falling into the small space between the nightstand and the wall, with his legs up in the air, and his butthole fully exposed for both planes of existence to see. 

Still, that hadn’t been the worst part. If those two pallid silhouettes had merely disappeared once he had seen them, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic — perhaps Jungkook could have found a semi-believable excuse about what he had witnessed — but no. Not only did the ghosts remain there, with their arms crossed before their achromatic clothes and eyebrows slightly raised in expectation, they continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. 

“Oh, he was definitely going to put it in the wrong hole,” the shorter of the two murmured, clearly entertained at the idea. 

The other scoffed. “What if he did?” he threw back. “Maybe he likes that, we can’t judge.”

Truth was that, one way or another, Jungkook couldn’t even figure out what he liked — he didn’t even get the chance. He was gone from his (ex) girlfriend’s place before his brain could even attempt to construct a plausible explanation, even less to digest what had preceded that unfortunate revelation. Now, the wrong hole would forever be a source of trauma for him. 

And the problems didn’t exactly stop there. Ever since his cherry-popping session was interrupted, Jungkook hadn’t been able to move further than the first base, thinking that he would embarrass himself all over again or, worse, be frightened by a random demon passing by. Also, the constant mockery of his ghostly counterparts certainly didn’t help his concentration. 

The worst part? Helping Jungkook was kind of their whole point. And they couldn’t even do that right. 

Taehyung and Yoongi were their names — they told him right after the first night he saw them. Jungkook didn’t know what had happened in the afterlife that they had been punished with such a horrendous mission and, frankly, at that point, he was too afraid to ask. 

“But I don’t need your help,” Jungkook had said after one particularly bad date, dramatically throwing himself onto his bed. The furniture creaked under his weight and he wondered if it would snap before his mind did. “I just want you to leave me alone or, I don’t know, help me with something else — something useful.”

The two ghosts were by his desk, looking at his class notes and, at that comment, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Useful? Like what?” He asked. 

“I don’t know, solving crimes or something,” Jungkook mumbled, turning around so he would face the wall. God, he just needed two seconds alone. 

Behind him, Taehyung laughed. “You don’t even know how to open a bra, and you're out there thinking of reopening cold cases? Give me a break.” 

“Ouch,” Jungkook whispered. Maybe another time, it would’ve hurt his pride a bit more. That night, however, he was too tired to care. “For your information, I do know how to open a bra. You two just started whispering and it distracted me.” 

“We were whispering to you the instructions on how to open a bra,” Yoongi responded. “Would you need those if you knew what you were doing? No.” 

Jungkook sighed. “I just—”

“This conversation is done, we went over this already.” Yoongi interrupted. “You need us, whether you want it or not. You’re painfully bad at romance, Jungkook, even worse at initiating sex. I’ve never seen something like that before.” 

At that, Jungkook rolled on the bed and faced them. There was only one light in his bedroom that was on — the table lamp — and its clear orange shade passed through them both in an odd mixture of contours and lines. “Maybe if I could do it myself, without you two buzzing around the place, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he responded, aggressive. 

“Calm down. You were already bad enough when we arrived,” Taehyung told him, leaning over to see all the scattered pages on his desk. He frowned once he saw something he couldn’t quite understand, and quickly turned away from it. “Nothing changed much.” 

“Right!” Jungkook sat up on the bed. “Isn’t that enough of a sign for you two to stop trying to help me, then?” 

“No,” Yoongi said calmly. “That’s a sign that we have to try harder. And so do you.” 

He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 

“Yes, you absolutely do,” he said. “You know what? Grab your phone and get yourself a date with that girl you like from physiology class. Two weeks from now.” 

There was a second of silence as Jungkook’s mind struggled to piece the idea together. He wasn’t even sure about who Yoongi was referring to, there were a lot of girls in his class. “What? Why?” 

“Just trust us. She’s into you,” Yoongi spoke. 

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’ll work out.” 

Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 

“This time, it will,” Taehyung said. “Really. Do it.” 

“Fine.” He breathed out, reaching for his phone. “What girl?” 

Yoongi looked him up and down. “You know what girl.” 

With a deep breath, Jungkook scrolled over his contact list, struggling to find someone that he would have even the slightest chance with. Truth was, he has no fucking clue of which one of the hundred and fifty people in his class would even look in his direction, much less go on a date with him. 

“You do know… right?” Taehyung asked, clearly worried. “We can’t really give you names, but you… know, right?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure I do!” Jungkook laughed nervously, clicking on a random name and opening a chat. “Here, I’m sending her a text right now. No reason to worry… no reason at all.” 

“Good,” Yoongi said, distracted. “Now, if you need us, we’ll be watching Gone Girl with your neighbors. We already missed the start of the movie, and I’m pissed off as it is.”

Taehyung nodded. “Amazing movie,” he said. Jungkook pressed send and prayed for the best. “We should have more movie nights over here.” 

 Yoongi said something in agreement and, in a second, they were already gone. Jungkook was left alone in his bedroom, with the light of his lamp casting over his features the desperation that he was feeling inside. 

“This better work,” he mumbled to himself. “You two better not be trying to embarass me.”

_____________

And then, two weeks later, Yoongi and Taehyung were laughing at him as his last failed attempt at romance got up from her chair and basically ran away from him.

Yoongi leaned back against the chair, his ankles crossed over the large table. If someone else could see him then, he surely would have received a few complaints about keeping the mall under semi-sanitary conditions. “Jungkook, I’ll tell you something,” he started, clearly amused. “You’re so bad at romance that I wish I was alive just so I could punch some reason into you.”

Taehyung, who had stayed mostly quiet during the painfully awkward interaction, walked beside Jungkook and chuckled at his distress. Still, he was focused on the other ghost, and the implication of his speech. “That amount of violence is the exact reason why you’re no longer alive, Yoongi,” he pointed out, then turned to Jungkook before he could smirk at the reprehension. “But really, that was awful. If I weren’t spiritually tied to you, I would’ve given up by now. You’re hopeless.”

“Completely out of it,” Yoongi added. “Do you even know how women work?” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, and reached for his phone: there was no way he would enter a discussion with those invisible pricks in a public situation without something to mask it. Not that it would have been the first time.  

Yoongi materialized on the seat next to Jungkook, his head leaning against his hand. The boy was already used to those sudden changes of position, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. In fact, after Taehyung had appeared next to him during a particularly bad time — in which the incognito tab had already been opened, and a bottle of lotion already waited for him — he could never erase the intense panic of such experiences. 

But of course, Yoongi knew that, and he used his discomfort for his own entertainment. “You can’t ignore us, kiddo,” he said slowly, clearly amused. “And you can’t ignore the fact that you’ll die alone, surrounded by cats, if you don’t start listening to what we have to say. We have been tied to you for a reason.”

“And the reason,” Taehyung added, “is to make you stop cockblocking yourself.” 

With a subdued groan, Jungkook pressed his phone against his ear — an old trick that allowed for him to have a conversation without being seen as clinically insane by passersby. “You two are the reason why this date went downhill,” he told them. “You told me to say all the wrong things. You two set this up knowing I’d fail.” 

“Oh, no.” Taehyung shook his head in disagreement. “The words were right. Your delivery was awful.” 

“Western-movie-awful,” Yoongi added. “And if you want to change that, you have to trust us.” 

“Trust you? Where has that taken me?” Jungkook questioned, irritated. “You’re the reason why I lost my first girlfriend and haven’t had another one ever since.” 

Yoongi chuckled. “The girl from the first night? She never talked to you again after that, did she?” He asked, but, of course, he already knew the answer. “Damn, that was cringe-worthy. Butt in the air and everything.”

“No need to remind me, I was there.” Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to control his demeanor. It wasn’t fair that there was not much that he could do to make the two men shut up — since they were, quite literally, already dead, he didn’t have many threats to utter. “And whose fault was that?” 

“Technically, yours.” Taehyung shrugged. “We didn’t present ourselves to you, you just saw us all of a sudden. We were just as surprised.”

“Besides, you were the one that had the B.F.,” Yoongi added. 

Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”

“Bitch fit,” Taehyung elucidated. “He watched White Chicks with your neighbors last night, don’t worry about it.” 

Jungkook groaned, pressing his hand against his face. Of course — the cherry on top would be outdated pop references, as expected. Yoongi had always been quite fond of the classic ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and Jungkook thought that the overuse of that quote would be the ultmost reason for his insanity. Nevertheless, he came to understand that it was nothing compared to movies like White Chicks or even Legally Blonde. He would rather hear Uncle Ben’s famous line a billion times over before Yoongi accused him of having a B.F. once more. 

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the environment around him. The murmurs and disembodied conversations around the mall had morphed into the sound of irritating insects, and he felt as if the earth could just open up and eat him alive. He probably committed a terrible crime in a past life to be stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum like that. 

“Anyways,” Jungkook stressed, “it didn’t seem like the two of you were surprised that I could see you. You just kept… talking about me. And my ass.”

Taehyung chuckled. “You were the one with the ass up in the air.” He vanished, then materialized in the seat in front of Jungkook. “What were we supposed to do? Ignore it?” 

“It was an easy target,” Yoongi spoke, then seemed to realize the words that had left his mouth. “Wait, I didn’t mean the double interpretation.” 

“Why can’t the two of you just fucking help me for once?” Jungkook asked aggressively. In a nearby table, one old man raised his eyes from his vegan burger and stared the boy up and down in disapproval. Jungkook lowered his voice and switched his phone to the other ear. “This is unbearable. You two are only making it worse.” 

With a gesture that Jungkook knew all too well, Taehyung used his thumb to point over his shoulder, towards the path that his failed date had followed. “That one wasn’t good enough for you,” he said nonchalantly. “We can tell. We know stuff.” 

“Then why did you set this up in the first place?” He asked, exasperated. 

“As DJ Khaled says, you played yourself,” Yoongi cited. One more reference and Jungkook would be the one joining the world of the dead. “It’s not our fault that you get nervous and can’t deliver the lines right. When have the two of us ever failed?”

“When you died,” he spoke back. “Or did you forget the stupid mistake you made?”

Yoongi hesitated. As much as he tried to play it cool, he wasn’t the smartest one around. In fact, his tragically premature death was all the evidence Jungkook needed to make his point clear. 

During his living days, Yoongi was pretty invested in rock climbing. On a beautiful summer afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the green-bathed hills, one of his friends dared him to bungee jump from the same cliff they had just climbed, and were standing on. Of course, the man agreed promptly, saying that he wouldn’t back out from such a mundane task; stating repeatedly that the fall wouldn’t be so high up anyway. But that wasn’t the turning point: Min Yoongi, in all his adventurousness, quickly decided that his local shop was too expensive and that he would create his own bungee jump cord instead. 

According to him, making the cord proved itself to be quite an easy task. He had gotten some help from his local adrenaline addicts and the final product was a very good copy of the factory-made ones. He measured the cliff twice just to be certain, compared it to the rope, and made sure to test the sustentation and elasticity as many times as he could. 

Still, Yoongi had overlooked an imperative detail: he shouldn’t use a cord that was the same height as the cliff he was jumping from. 

Needless to say, he only realized his mistake once he was already dead. 

Yoongi scoffed at the memory, ignoring his hurt pride. He swore he could still feel his back hurting when he thought about that. “That isn’t the point,” he said. He often did that: changed the subject once he realized he couldn’t leave with the upper hand. “The point is that you keep delivering lines like you’re a bad boy in a South American novela, then expect us to perform a miracle on you.” 

Jungkook frowned, lowering his head. “That’s actually so wrong.” 

But the problem was: Yoongi was right, and Jungkook knew it. In fact, that had been the exact reason why his date had left him that night — the boy had misunderstood Taehyung’s advice to play off as a mysterious man, and instead projected his image somewhere between a psychopath and a person that had only K-dramas as a basis of how human interactions were supposed to work. Jungkook missed his attempts at romance the entire time, but the breaking point was when Yoongi told him to act as a bad influence because, according to him, girls dig a good bad boy. 

Once again, Yoongi wasn’t the brightest mind when it came to risk-taking. That was why he was more dead than Jungkook’s bedroom. 

Jungkook, however, did not realize his own errors until it was too late. He had chuckled at his date’s embarrassment, using his opening to delicately place her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, voice swift and placid as a river. With his eyebrows raised and his lips vaguely forming a pout, he looked like an off-brand version of Handsome Squidward. “I’m not really a good influence, and surely not the kind of guy you’d like to get with. So why don’t you do me a favor and follow the simple orders I give you, uh?”

Her eyes had widened in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and fear. From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook saw her reaching for her purse over the table. “No, thank you,” she was quick to say. “I don’t think this will work, sorry. I’ll see you around college.” 

And that’s how they ended at that point. The point they always seemed to end up in. 

“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jungkook said, closing his eyes for a moment of peace. “I have a huge test next week and I couldn’t even study for it because of all the preparation for this stupid date. Can you two just take a step back? Just for a little while. Romance can’t be all that I think about.”

As he opened his eyes, he saw Taehyung staring at him. He couldn’t really read his expression. 

And, without an answer, the two of them vanished. 

_________________

If someone asked Jungkook why the hell he thought going to medical school was a good idea, he’d simply say that, at the time, it made sense. After all, he had thought, he’d be some sort of super-doctor, since he had an exclusive VIP pass to the afterlife — just imagine how many people he would be able to help just by asking a friendly ghost what was wrong with a patient. It would be a game-changer. He could even find the cure of cancer if he tried hard enough. 

But of course, he quickly realized that he should’ve thought further about his decision. Maybe being a detective would have made much more sense — it would have been a lot cheaper, that’s for sure, and he wouldn’t have to sit through almost twelve hours of classes every single day for a diploma that seemed to be too far away for him to care. 

That particular class, however, wasn’t the worst one out there. 

It was Tuesday, and Tuesday meant Pathology. Jungkook loved that class because the professor hated teaching it, so the students had to sit in silence for about three hours trying to read the textbook by themselves. The professor said he would be there to answer any questions, but he was mostly scrolling through his phone and interrupting students every time they tried to ask him something — “That’s in the textbook, just keep reading.”  

Most of his classmates absolutely despised that subject, but Jungkook thought it was wonderful: he often learned better by himself anyways, and the lack of conversation during class brought him some sense of peace. Besides, Yoongi and Taehyung hated sitting in that quiet room for too long, so they mostly left after ten or twenty minutes of trying — and failing — to strike up a conversation with Jungkook. It was the perfect day.

Well, most days it was. 

Just as he was about to move forward to the next topic — Adrenal Insufficiency and Addison’s Disease — , the boy felt something poking his bicep and he was quick to turn to his side. Instantly, he recognized your expectant gaze and something fluttered inside his stomach. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning over your desk, “is tomorrow afternoon still up? I really need help in cardiac physiology. I kind of suck.”

He hummed in agreement, fighting against the nervousness that crept up on him. Jungkook’s palms started to sweat just by looking at you, he really was one step away from reverting back to his pre-teen days. “For sure. I’ll be at yours at five,” he managed to get out. 

“Thank you so much,” you said, then moved back against your seat. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. If it had been anyone else, Jungkook would’ve had a stroke by then — after all, he wasn’t always invited to a girl’s place so easily. That’s someone that I have absolutely no chance with, he thought. So friendzoning himself made everything much easier. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up at the library?” 

“I can’t really concentrate there,” you answered. “But if you prefer, we could go.” 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Your place is fine.” 

You smiled again, and Jungkook thought that maybe being shot wouldn’t hurt so much. “Thanks. See you at five.” 

Jungkook nodded and turned around, facing his laptop. Just as he was about to restart typing his notes, he saw a known reflection at the corner of his computer. Oh, God, have mercy.

Yoongi’s reflection smirked from the back row. “Oh, man, she’s so into you.”

 Jungkook shook his head in denial, eyes still glued to the PDF file in front of him. If anything, his classmates would have just guessed he was finding that subject more difficult than usual and, quite frankly, no one could judge him. 

“No?” Yoongi raised one eyebrow, reappearing by his side with his hand supporting his cheek. Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was just looooving the discomfort that grew inside his limbs. “I know those things, kiddo. It’s my job.”

From the front seat, Taehyung hummed in agreement. He had his arm placed over the chair, and seemed to find that entire situation a bit boring — maybe because he had seen it countless times before. “She definitely wants to get some of that,” he said. “We are proud of you, son.” 

With a subdued sigh, Jungkook scribbled some aggressive words at the corner of his notebook, and showed it to the man by his side. “Look at this, Taehyung, he’s trying to convince us that they’re just friends,” Yoongi mocked, crossing his arms. “That’s cute. Just because you’re that oblivious, it doesn’t mean that we are.”

“Jungkook, we’ve been watching the two of you talk the entire semester,” Taehyung added. “Besides, Yoongi made me follow her around once. She’s definitely into you. In unholy ways.”

Yoongi nodded once again. “She wants to be your boo.”

“Was that a fucking ghost pun?” Taehyung’s nose cringed up in disgust, and Jungkook had to fight back the reflex of laughing at his reaction. “Awful.”

“At least I’m not the one who ghostwrote Jungkook’s ethics essay.” Yoongi threw back. “Yeah, and that was another pun. You’ve got no spirit.” 

“You know what? Now I know why Jungkook can’t stand us anymore.” Taehyung smirked and, then and there, Jungkook knew exactly what was coming. “He can see right through us.”

The other ghost nodded. “Yeah, we’ve reached a dead end.” 

Jungkook groaned in exasperation, hiding his face behind his hands. “This is torture.”

Next to him, you chuckled. “Come on, pathology isn’t even that bad. You’re good at this.” 

“I know, I’m just tired.” He turned around to look at you, uttering the same excuse he had been using this entire semester. Not that it was an uncommon one, especially in the fifth circle of hell that was medical school. “I think I need to splash some cold water on my face. Wake myself up.”

You hesitated, staring at him as he stood up.  Jungkook looked strangely pale, like he was about to throw up all over the classroom. “Is everything okay?”

Fantastic! My bachelor ghosts are just making me have a nervous breakdown. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He said, almost stumbling over your chair. Some of your pens fell down, but Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to get them. He’d probably just knock everything else over in the process, and he wasn’t even sure that he could stand back up after. “Shit— Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Behind him, Yoongi chuckled. “Spook-tacular skills, as always.”

_____________

The sound of running water was all that entered Jungkook’s mind for a moment, his face feeling the coldness of the liquid as he splashed himself once, twice, trying to clear his thoughts. In the end, it was mostly in vain: his class was ruined, his notes were left unfinished, and he couldn’t get a second of tranquility anymore — not even in Pathology. If he weren’t canonized after his death, he would file a complaint for sure. 

Abruptly, he closed off the faucet and the water stopped running. There was a heavenly instant of quietness, in which Jungkook followed the crystalline droplets falling from his hair to the sink, before Yoongi’s voice echoed behind him. “How you doin’, champ?” 

Jungkook sighed and raised his head, looking at his ghost counterpart through the dirty mirror. “Is the bathroom empty?” he asked calmly. 

“Hm? Yeah,” Yoongi said. “The ghost is clear.”

Just like that, his serenity was gone. “Yoongi, can you fucking stop? Your puns stopped being funny after the third attempt,” Jungkook asked, exasperated. He pulled some paper towels, and got even angrier at the way they fell apart in his hands. Good to know his college money was being used wisely. “Jesus. Where is Taehyung?”

“You know he hates toilet paper,” Yoongi told him. “Reminds him of his death.”

Jungkook considered the compelling idea of banging his head against the bathroom wall until he, himself, was part of the world of the dead. As he recalled very well, Taehyung had been a victim of Final-Destination-levels of misfortune: just because he had forgotten to take toilet paper to his camping trip, the boy had been forced to use nearby leaves. Those, as he would soon come to understand, caused an awful allergy on his lower lands, and the punctual bleeding was a sufficient opening for opportunistic diseases. The culprit? Some super strange bacteria that floated around the river. He was dead less than twenty hours after he came back home from septic shock.  

Taehyung had endured, quite frankly, one shitty death. And, yes, Yoongi had made that joke a few too many times before. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook realized. “What did I tell you two about chit-chatting with me in large public places? Especially my classes? I have to pay attention. And I have a test in two days, I need to be all here, and not thinking about other people.” 

Yoongi giggled — almost childishly so — at the other’s anguished attitude. His teeth, a pallid shade of white, could barely be seen against the olive-green tiles that covered the bathroom walls. “You weren’t paying attention to the processes of intestinal inflammation, that’s for sure,” he teased, forcing himself to hold back his jokes a bit. 

“I wasn’t even studying that chapter,” Jungkook mumbled. 

Even Yoongi, who had a dense personality for such a diaphanous soul, could tell that the student was not in the mood for mockery. “Man, why are you so stuck-up? Taehyung and I are ghosts, but you’re the one with the dead sense of humor.”

Jungkook realized he needed a moment to think before he started yelling at nothing in a public bathroom. He really hoped the other stalls were empty, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. 

“This isn’t about the puns. You two just don’t respect my privacy,” Jungkook said. This time, he was able to pull some good paper towels and proceeded to dry his face. “This has been going on for too long. Why don’t you two just vanish for some time?”

“Wish I could, kiddo, but I’ve got hours to clock,” Yoongi finally admitted. From the mirror, he could see the frown of confusion that was cast over Jungkook’s features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only following rules. Talk to the big guy upstairs if you want to complain.”

He threw the paper on the trash and shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t see the point of any of this.” 

“You don’t have to.” Yoongi took a step closer. He often looked so unbothered — the two of them, actually — that Jungkook caught himself wondering which certainties they held, notions that would most likely be given after death. “Just do what we tell you to do.”

“That has only embarrassed me so far,” he said, turning around. “I don’t think I have it in me to trust in you two one more time. It has gotten me nowhere. Or, rather, nowhere good.”  

Yoongi sighed. “Alright, let’s do it like this, then: You go and help Y/N with her cardio whatever stuff, and Taehyung and I just watch. We promise to shut up, unless you’re doing something seriously embarrassing. Other than that, absolute silence.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You promise you two won’t tell me what to say?”

“Promise.” Yoongi nodded. He looked very sincere. “We won’t talk to you.” 

“I can live with that, yeah,” Jungkook agreed, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect.” He smiled. “Trust me, Jungkook. I only made one mistake in my life.”

Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”

“Not the point.” He raised one finger, clearly annoyed, then pointed it at Jungkook. “You’ll do great. It’s not like you’re gonna tell her about us or something.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

________________

But that was, ultimately, what he did.

To be fair, it was never Jungkook’s intention. He was completely sure that it would ruin not only his friendship with you, as it would also ruin his reputation, both as a student and as a future physician. Come on, how would he even explain that? How could he tell anyone that he not only saw two obnoxious ghosts, but that they were there to give him romantic (and sometimes sexual) advice? That’s insanity. 

Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 

In the cosmic perspective, however, it was kind of Yoongi’s fault too. He had the problem of giving away too much sometimes, especially when he was alone and free from Taehyung’s scrutiny. And it was that extra bit of information that catalyzed the explosion that would become Jungkook’s confession. 

For some reason or another, Taehyung hadn’t joined the two of them that day, as Jungkook crossed the campus towards your place. For the first time in a long time, their conversation — which was, again, masked by Jungkook pretending to be on the phone — was actually quite pleasant. Yoongi had told him a bit more about his life back in the day and explained that he was studying to become a lawyer when he died. 

“I was thinking of dropping out anyways,” he said. “I just picked a random thing to study because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And, well, I kind of did drop off. Just not from the course.” 

Jungkook could not help but laugh at the absurdness of it all. Sad coincidences aside, it was unusual for Yoongi to make jokes about his death. Taehyung was much more open about it, but Yoongi seemed to be very bitter because of the way and the time he passed. But of course, who was Jungkook to judge? 

“You know,” Yoongi started after a moment of quietude. “Taehyung and I were pretty surprised that day at the mall.”

Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 

The other man chuckled. “Honestly? Because you’re dumber than we thought.”

Seems like pleasant times didn’t last much between the two of them. “We’ve established that I can’t talk to girls, Yoongi, I know.” Jungkook really wanted to change the subject. 

“No, not that,” he denied. “Let’s go back a little. Remember what we told you in your bedroom that night? To get the physiology girl.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi laughed, amazed that Jungkook still didn’t get it. “You called the wrong one, idiot,” he explained. 

“What?” Jungkook paused in his tracks and, in a mindless reflex, forgot he was supposed to be talking on the phone, and looked directly at Yoongi, lowering the device away from his ear. “There is a right one?” 

“Hey, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yoongi pointed at a couple that also stopped, confused at the man’s actions. Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure after that minor instant of public humiliation, and placed the phone back against his ear. “Let’s keep walking.”

With his heart beating insanely fast against his chest, Jungkook did as he was told. His mind was flooded with fragmented thoughts, working around words that seemed so simple, yet held so much.

“Yes, there is a right one — and you’re going towards her right now.” Yoongi responded, placing his ghostly hands inside his ghostly pockets. Jungkook never noticed that he still used the clothes that he had on when he died, but Yoongi wouldn’t be the first one to mention. “So don’t make a fool out of yourself. Not this time.” 

Jungkook swallowed dry, feeling as panic started to climb up his lower limbs, weighing down on his muscles. His throat was dry as a desert and forming sentences proved to be a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. The air around campus had suddenly become hot for an autumn day, unable to enter his lungs with ease. He really was two steps away from a full-blown anxiety attack. 

Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 

Jungkook licked his lips, only half aware of his actions. “Y-Yeah,” he struggled to get out. “Just kind of a bomb that you just dropped on me, that’s all.” 

Yoongi nodded, uninterested. “Yeah. Get over it. It’s not a huge deal.” 

Only, it was. For Jungkook, at least. What if you two were… you know? Meant to be? Like the soulmates kind of thing; star-crossed lovers. Like in the “we got married after two months of dating and we are still together after sixty years” kind of insane love? That was a lot to process, a lot to think about, especially when he was having like three different crises at once. It was a recipe for a disaster. 

Jungkook really was dumb when it came to anything besides his textbooks, but not for jumping into those conclusions. Frankly, most people would’ve been a bit overwhelmed by that. 

No, his problem would reside on his next thought: If you two were meant to be, you would understand if, for some reason, he had to tell you about his ghosts, right? 

Right?

_______________

To be fair with Yoongi, he did keep his promise. The two didn’t interrupt your conversation once, even if sometimes the moment begged for it, and Jungkook was two words away from ruining everything. Strangely enough, things seemed to work themselves out — the horrible jokes that Jungkook uttered seemed to suit your sense of humor; the shy and nervous demeanor that plagued his dates slowly melted away. It was good — in fact, it was the best talk he’s had with someone in a long, long time. 

The issue was that, as much as the two of them didn’t talk directly to Jungkook, they still talked. 

“What was that thing that she said, you know, to her friends?” Yoongi mumbled, his words coming out as a vague connection of syllables being formed at the corner of his mouth. He had his arms crossed, and his legs pushed up on the couch. “You told me that.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung took a moment to think. He had one of his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white pants, and the other on the back of the couch. The two of them watched the conversation that unfolded above your living room table, the two of you trying to make sense of a subject that seemed to change every five minutes. “It was like ‘homeboy can like, get it’... or something.” 

Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 

Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ignore that comment. It wasn’t news that you were interested in him — that had been the only thing Yoongi and Taehyung had told him for the past few hours, but it was very, very awkward to know those specific details. He was sure he wouldn’t like you to know the private conversations that he had with his friends, even less about the things he thought about when he was alone. There was something extremely violating about that, but, no matter how hard he tried to convince them, the two ghosts didn’t seem to care enough to stop. 

The giggle that came from across the table ruptured his thoughts. “Why are you blushing?” You asked.

“I’m… uh…” he struggled, suddenly feeling the heat that emanated from his cheeks. Wonderful. Even when he was just thinking about something, he still managed to make a fool of himself. “Just… thinking about some embarrassing things I did in third grade. The usual.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been there.” You smiled, reaching for the textbook across the table, and flipping through the pages. “I ruined this entire science project once. It was something about the pollination of flowers, but I missed that class. Ended up coming back to a lot of roses around the classroom, and decided to take a few of them home to my mom.”

“Oh no.” 

“Yep,” you nodded, looking back at him. Jungkook thought that he had lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a depth so engulfing that he couldn’t find the right words once he stared at it. He had never noticed how beautiful you were — or, rather, he had, but he had never stopped to think about it — and, now, it seemed as if that was the only thing that he could focus on. “Everyone in class was super pissed, the teacher even tried to suspend me.”

He shook his head, trying to imagine a mini-you justifying your flower thievery in front of the principal. “That’s insane, actually.”

“Kind of.” You shrugged, looking back at the book. You weren’t sure what you were searching for anymore, so you decided to close it. You two had been studying for almost four hours straight, you didn’t think that your brain could handle any more of that. “They didn’t really believe me when I told them it was a mistake. Guess no one even noticed my absence the day before, which is… somehow… even worse, now that I think about it.” 

A giggle reverberated in your throat as you dove into those forgotten memories, and Jungkook followed you. 

“Don’t laugh at child me, that’s so cruel.” You smiled. 

“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I just thought you were cute. Still are, you never really stopped being cute, I mean. You’re actually really pretty now, like a woman—” 

“I got it.” You placed your hands over his, and the shock of your skin against his seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He didn’t know if that was a soulmate thing of if he was just really horny. Probably a bit of both. “Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cute too. Like a man.”  

“Thanks.” Jungkook itched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to build his sentence. Panic began bubbling at the bottom of his stomach, sinking its teeth into his flesh as his words left his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” 

It was the right time now: the studying was over, the conversation was flowing, you had told him that you thought he was cute — like a man. Now, he just needed to ask you out. Just that. That’s it. Three words. He had practiced: Wanna go out? That’s it. So casual. So playboy-esque. He could do it. No pressure. If you were the one, he didn’t have much to get wrong. 

But, oh my god, what if he got everything wrong? I mean, how many stories are out there of couples who were destined for each other, but something happened and it pulled them apart forever? The wrong time, the wrong place — the wrong words. Jungkook wasn’t psychologically prepared to ruin something so huge with a moment so small. He needed to calm down and focus. Just get the words out. Everything would sort itself out after that. He had faith. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

Jungkook cleared his throat, his eyes still glued to the touch of your hand against his. Outside, birds were chirping, unaware of the absolute shitstorm that was about to ensue. “So…” he started, “I was thinking that maybe I could— I mean, you — I mean we could...”

You tilted your head to the side, confused. “Sorry, what was that?” 

He blinked once, twice, fighting against the wave of sheer terror that had taken over his brain, whitening out his thoughts. He had the sentence ready, but he had forgotten how to form it. “I’m just trying… I’m just trying here to just…” He swallowed dryly. “I was just wondering if you would like to… I mean, if it’s not a problem—”

From the other side of the room, Yoongi groaned. “Just do it! You’re making eternity so much longer.”

And that’s when it happened. 

Jungkook turned around and yelled: “You told me you wouldn’t talk, you asshole!”

The entire room froze. A horrible moment of bewildered reticence followed as  the realization crashed upon him like a gigantic wave. He couldn’t have just yelled at nothing in front of you, like an absolute madman, could he? 

Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand away from his. The lack of warmth was like a dagger being thrown directly into his heart. “Excuse me?”

Yep. He totally did that. 

“Not you!” He was quick to turn around — maybe a bit too quick, too intensely. Even with nervousness clouding his vision, Jungkook could still see the shadow of fear and confusion mingling amongst your features. He had ruined everything, and that was all that he could think about. “I’m just... personalizing my anxiety...”

“Are you... alright?” You spoke slowly, measuring his actions. Jungkook had changed from cute-nervous to absolutely-unhinged-nervous; eyes widened and jaw clenched; hands gripping the wooden chair like his life depended on it. Maybe that study session was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just googled an online class, like your best friend told you to. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 

And, if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Jungkook started to convince himself that perhaps it would be a good idea to come clean with you about his psychic abilities — maybe that was actually the only way that he could get out of that mess. If you were his soulmate, you’d understand. It’d all be okay. Yeah, maybe you’d be seriously creeped out for like the first twenty minutes, just like he had been, but eventually you’d understand what had happened. You two would laugh about it later, maybe when you were sixty, on your rocking chairs somewhere, staring lovingly at a cornfield. 

Was he losing it? Probably. But he didn’t have the right amount of mental clarity to fully think about the consequences of his actions in that moment. 

“I… did,” Jungkook spoke sluggishly, barely comprehending the trail of words that dripped from his tongue. His voice was much calmer, but he could still feel like his entire body was engulfed by flames. “I did... see a ghost. Two actually.” 

You frowned. This afternoon couldn’t possibly get any worse. “What are you talking about?” 

“Jungkook, don’t you dare,” Yoongi warned, but his voice seemed to come from miles away. 

Slowly, as if he wasn’t really aware of his own body moving, Jungkook adjusted his position on the chair, looking down at the sea of handwritten notes in front of him. He wished that human interaction was as easy as the types of pulmonary volumes, or perhaps the changes of oxygen inside the hemoglobin. That he knew. That he could deal with.

“Ok so, have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”

You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”

“The Disney movie,” he clarified, looking up at you. 

You shook your head, measuring how long it would take for you to bolt out of the door and run away from your own apartment. Maybe you could get out and then call someone for help. You wished you had already taken Psychiatry. ��I know what that is, Jungkook, but I just don’t understand where you’re getting at.”

“Maybe it’s in the TV series that came after the movie, I don’t know, but Kronk has these two little beings on his shoulders, a devil and an angel.” He cleared his throat, and looked back at the sheets of paper. It was so hard to stare at you now, when just seconds before, it had been so easy. “I kinda have the same thing, only, they’re dead people. You know, ghosts. And they’re not on my shoulders — that’d be pretty awful, actually.” 

Taehyung mumbled from across the room, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Jungkook.” 

“You’re making no sense right now,” you said, worried about the effect that your words could have on him. “I think… I think it would be better if you left.” 

“I can see dead people, okay?” Jungkook interrupted, exasperated. You had to understand. You were the right girl from physiology class, you had to understand. 

“Okay, Sixth Sense.” You laughed nervously. Bad time for a joke, you thought, but the boy barely seemed to process it. “Listen, I can tell you’re not doing very well right now, so you should probably leave, maybe clear your head a bit. You already helped me a lot—”

“No, I don’t need that. My head is clear—”

“You know, there is a very good mental health clinic in campus, I’ve gone there already, and I think—” 

“No! I don’t need mental health, it’s true!” Jungkook stood up, walking towards the couch, where the two dead men sat. There was an unspoken contest in the room to see who could be more flabbergasted at the boy’s actions, and you and Yoongi were in a close tie. “I can prove it.” 

You almost choked on air. “You what?” 

Jungkook pointed at nothing. “They’re here right now, I can prove it to you.”

Discombobulated, you shook your head one more time. Maybe if you did that enough, your chaotic thoughts would just fall out of your ears, and everything would be much clearer. Maybe that was a prank, maybe that was a full-blown psychotic breakdown. You just didn’t really know what to do from there. “Jungkook, I don’t think—” 

“Come on, just show yourself to her!” He yelled into the air, more specifically at your white couch. You just wanted to study cardiology, how did it end up like this? “Give me a sign, I don’t know.”

Yoongi chuckled, completely amazed by the way Jungkook continuously broke the Dumb Records that he had previously set himself. No bonus in heaven would be worth dealing with Mr. Smooth Brain over there. He should’ve gone for the orphans instead. “I cannot believe you right now.” He stood up from the couch and sighed, utterly defeated. Maybe he could just get it over with, and then The Big Man Upstairs would show him a bit of mercy. “But I guess now there isn’t much to lose. I’m only doing this because at least it would make this situation a bit better.” 

“How?” Taehyung asked. 

“There’s a slight improvement between psychotic crisis and psychic abilities,” Yoongi responded. He walked towards the window, rolled his eyes at the pathetic presentation of supernatural phenomena, and pulled on the white curtains of your living room. “Here. Boo! Paranormal activity.” 

“Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, excited. 

However, instead of meeting a surprised gaze, he only saw panic and preoccupation swimming inside your eyes. “The curtain moving? Yeah. That was the wind, Jungkook.” You stood up from the chair, measuring your chances at escaping. He was getting more and more erratic, and you didn’t know where the situation could escalate to next. “You’re seriously freaking me out right now. You’re being really aggressive about this.” 

“Yoongi, you’re worse than the spirits in Ghost Hunters,” Taehyung groaned, reappearing next to your living room table. “You have to be bold, that’s what I always say. Make a statement.”

Taehyung’s statement, of course, had been the biggest slap against a lamp that Jungkook had ever witnessed in his life. The ghosts had once told him that it took them a huge amount of concentrated energy to do something as little as move a napkin, so there was no way that Taehyung wouldn’t be exhausted after making that heavy piece of furniture fly against the wall, shattering into a million little pieces with a loud noise. 

“What the fuck?” Jungkook asked. “That was so dangerous! She could’ve gotten hurt.”

He shrugged. “You asked.” 

“What the fuck was that?” You yelled, taking your hands to your face. Was that shared hysteria? What did you just see? Maybe you were the one who needed fresh air and a shrink visit. “You’re pranking me, right? You have like a nylon string wrapped around your hands or something.”

Jungkook moved his head in denial, raising his hands up in a sigh of defeat. “I swear to God, it’s true.” 

“I don’t… I don’t believe you,” you said, clearly terrified. Not at the idea of ghosts, Jungkook realized, but of him. That date surely couldn’t have gone any better. 

Yoongi sighed and materialized behind Jungkook. Lost causes, Yoongi was surrounded by lost causes. “If you really want her to believe you, tell her we can say some stuff about her, but it’ll probably freak her out.”

“They are saying that they can convince you by saying some stuff about you.” Jungkook swallowed dry. Something inside him was screaming for him to just shut the fuck up and leave your building. If there was something he learned by being with the two undead pricks, is that they could always make a situation worse. 

But desperate times require desperate measures. 

You adjusted your posture. Trepidation was still very present in your face, but there was also a small spark of interest swimming somewhere inside your eyes. “I seriously doubt that.” 

“I can show you,” he said. “Just… don’t freak out.”

“Fine.” You licked your lips in anticipation. “The name of my first pet.”

“Is this a password verification?” Yoongi groaned. He just wanted to watch Twitches later that day, but Jungkook just had to start a seance in someone else’s room. Again: the orphans would never. “Fine. It was Mr. Green, a tortoise she killed by leaving to dry in the asphalt.” 

“It was a tortoise, Mr. Green. You left it on the asphalt and it died,” Jugkook repeated without hesitation. 

You blinked twice, taking in the answer. “This is so fucking weird. How did you know that?”

“Yoongi told me.” Jungkook pointed over his shoulder, where Yoongi stared you down. Just by looking in that direction, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were losing it. “He’s, you know, one of the ghosts.” 

“I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.” You placed one hand against the chair, leaning against it. There was no use to keep that conversation going, and you both knew it — and yet, just like a politician lying, it just didn’t stop. “But you could’ve asked anyone that.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to become completely lost. “Why would I ask such a specific question? I don’t even know your friends.” 

Behind him, he heard another loud groan. “I’m so done with this.” Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk, Jungkook.” 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked.

Yoongi snorted. “We are all out of good ideas. But I think this is the best chance you’ve got.”

“Who are you talking to?” You almost yelled. 

Jungkook looked back at you and, for some reason, the preoccupation in his eyes scared you even further. “Okay, this is going to be really weird, alright? But it’s not gonna be me talking.”

“What?” 

“It’s like… a kind of possession,” he explained, gesticulating a bit more than socially acceptable. “It’s like… uh… One of them is going to use my mouth for a bit. Talk through me.” 

You laughed, and there was a high-pitched sort of timbre to it. That might as well happen. “Sure, of course. What else? Exorcism live?” You asked. 

“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 

Jungkook took in a deep breath, and clenched his hands into fists. He hated that part. “Fine,” he consented. 

Gradually, the muscles around his mouth and throat grew numb, as if Jungkook had entered a dream, and his body was responding in autopilot. There was an awful pressure on his shoulders and a ringing in his ears as Yoongi accommodated himself around his body, reaching for control. That was the closest he would ever feel to being a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it was as bad as it could be. 

Yoongi spoke through him with ease: “You told your friends last week that you didn’t care if Jungkook was a shy virgin who played minecraft because he was exactly your type. You also said that your average score in physiology is ninety-seven percent and you didn’t need any help. You just needed an excuse to stay with him. Happy?” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply as the pressure on his body subsided, the numb sensation around his neck growing thinner by the second. “So violating,” he complained. 

“How did you know that?” Your voice shook him back to reality. Both of you were reaching new levels of terror every minute. “Are you stalking me?”

That back and forth was starting to get exhausting. “That wasn’t me. That was Yoongi,” he tried once again. He was starting to think that the whole thing had been a bad idea. 

“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 

Yoongi scoffed. “Fuck you too, princess. Maybe you really don’t deserve this man.”

“I’m not saying that,” Jungkook whispered to him, then turned back to look at you. He wanted to hug you and magically erase your memories for that afternoon, but, in reality, he couldn’t even move his legs without feeling like he could fall face-down on the floor. He really, really, really hated possession. “I’m just… I’m sorry about that.” 

“About what, Danny Phantom?” You asked, throwing your hands up in an exasperated gesture. And there it was: from panic to complete fury. That was all that you two needed at that moment. “About making me scared shitless, or about exposing me like this?” 

He suspired. “Do you at least believe in me now?” 

“Does it look like I believe in you, Jungkook?” You practically screamed. Truth was: neither of you knew that for sure. “I’m a woman of science, you can’t expect me to believe that—”

Taehyung groaned, walking closer to Jungkook. It must’ve been a world record how quickly everyone in that room got angry. “Let me talk,” he requested. 

Jungkook sighed, defeated. How much worse could it possibly get? “Go ahead,” he said.

There it was again: the feeling of being under anesthesia, the weight of an entire other being pressed down against his shoulders. Good times. “Yesterday,” he started, “you masturbated to the thought of Jungkook, but you forgot to recharge your vibrator so you had to use your fingers and you complained the entire time. Explain that, science woman.”

Another deep gasp, and Jungkook was folding over, finding balance on his knees. He really felt like he couldn’t even think straight anymore, his mind covered by a thick fog. 

You didn’t seem to be in a much different situation either. “I’m… gonna pass out.” 

“That was so unnecessary, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. His mouth was terribly dry, and his hands were shaking. “You guys really don’t know your limits.” 

“Taehyung? Who the fuck is that?” You screamed. 

Taehyung crossed his arms. “Hey, at least she believes you now.”

“He’s the other ghost. The one with no sense of boundaries.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, clearly pissed off. Maybe his voice would’ve come out a bit more forceful if he didn’t get thrown around by sadistic spirits. “I’m sorry about that.” 

You shook your head, dumbfounded. “I need you to leave now. And take your ghosts with you.” You leaned over the table, and grabbed his notes, shoving them into a messy pile. Not that you were super worried about the integrity of the paper at a time like that. “This has really crossed like... every line.” 

Jungkook licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say. Someway, he managed to get his legs firm enough so he could start walking in your direction. “Please, I didn’t mean to—” 

You shoved the pile of notes into his backpack, and then the backpack into his hands. Before he could react, you grabbed him by the arm, guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for helping me, Jungkook.” The door opened with a forceful pull, and you shoved him into the hall. “Never speak to me again. Bye.” 

The bang of the door slamming shut was horribly loud, reverberating inside Jungkook’s chest for a moment longer. Now that the possession daze was starting to move away from his body, the boy could feel the traces of panic crawling inside him. 

Jungkook dropped his backpack to the ground, and started knocking on your door. “Y/N, please!” He called. “I’m so sorry about everything. You have to believe me!” 

Your yell came muffled from the other side of the door. “Go away!” you screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!”

Defeated, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wood. Now that the situation had already climaxed, the absurdity of it all was starting to become much more palpable. 

How could Jungkook be so stupid? How could he think that you would act normally as you were exposed to the supernatural world? Especially in such distressing, violating ways. Even if you were his meant-to-be, his forever person, it would be ridiculous to believe that anyone would take all  in that with ease. He really outdid himself that time. 

“Let her be, you two can talk another time,”  Yoongi spoke, leaning against the wall. It was possible to see all the places that the pain was starting to crack through his semi-translucent form. “Good attempt, though. I’d give you a star for trying.” 

“This is not funny,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away from the door so you couldn’t hear him. The artificial lights above his head were sharp, buzzing mockingly. “You two keep saying that you’re here to help me, but you keep making stuff like this happen. If she really did like me, you just ruined everything.”

Yoongi raised one eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about that one?”

Jungkook glanced at him. “You told me she’s the one.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “I told you she was the right girl from physiology class, not that you two were going to die holding hands or something,” Yoongi told him. “You filled the blanks yourself.”

“That’s why we don’t give away all those details,” Taehyung scolded Yoongi, looking at him up and down. Jungkook had never seen him so irritated before — at least not about serious things. “You know we could get in real big trouble if someone heard about that. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s kind of the entire deal of heaven to know about stuff.” 

“I know, I know,” Yoongi groaned, disregarding his preoccupations. Maybe Taehyung didn’t understand his galaxy-brain plan yet, but he was sure that the heavens would. Or at least he hoped so. “But I think there’s something else that we need to focus on. Jungkook wouldn’t care this much about the other girls he dated, even if it was meant to be.” 

“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. 

“Why are you talking to yourself like you’re not in a corridor of an apartment building?” Yoongi threw back. Without a second of hesitation, Jungkook picked up his backpack and turned on his heels, walking down the hall, completely done with them. “Hey, come back. Just tell me what’s the fuzz with this one.” 

He didn’t look back. “Aren’t you two supposed to know? All-knowing and shit.” 

“We want to hear it from you,” Yoongi pressed on. 

Jungkook opened the heavy door to the stairwell, allowing for it to hit behind him. Taehyung and Yoongi passed right through it, of course, and kept following him as he quickly moved down the concrete steps. “Y/N is my friend.”

Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”

“Isn’t that enough for a justification? What else do you want from me?” He inquired, aggressive. The sound of his steps echoed like drums through the expansion of the staircase, and he hoped that no one else had been listening to his apparent monologue. “I don’t wanna ruin this friendship by talking about her masturbation techniques, I don’t know if that makes the situation super unique.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “You have other friends.” 

“I care for her, alright?” Jungkook turned around abruptly, making the two ghosts stop in their tracks. Taehyung had almost lost his balance, but it wasn’t as if that could have any serious consequences for him. 

Jungkook sighed, trying to control the anger that had built up so rapidly, and continued speaking. “I care for her more than other friends. Fuck, is that what you two wanted to hear? Besides, it’s not like I know anyone better than her.  I didn’t even think I had a chance with someone like that until you told me. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s like… super hot when she’s mad—”

“Oh, would you look at that.” Yoongi grinned, satisfied. “Jungkook’s whipped.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”

“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.

Jungkook covered his face, feeling the heat of his checks emanating against his palms. “I’m not!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, tiger,” Yoongi raised his hands in a silent request for forgiveness.  They were still a few steps above Jungkook, and the whole scene looked like something straight out of the Book of Revelation. “This is a good thing, we actually thought it would never happen. It’s not like you’ve been this introspective in what… five years? More even.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Yoongi sighed, and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. The other ghost nodded in a silent agreement, and Yoongi started to speak. “Listen, we’re here to help you, but we didn’t say everything,” he admitted. “We couldn’t, really, otherwise it wouldn’t be so... organic.”

“What?” 

“Jungkook, you were desperate to lose your virginity,” Yoongi explained. “You still are, in a way. And that’s not a good thing, because you’ll get the first thing that moves and you’ll try to stick your dick in it.”

Taehyung chuckled drily, looking at a fixed point. “Which is not a good idea, believe me,” he spoke in a mumble, and Jungkook could not help but think that his advice came from personal experience. That, of course, was a story for other, less sober times. 

“Is that why the two of you always interrupt me?” He asked, a bit offended. “Because those girls weren’t right for me? Like this is a purity cult or something?” 

“Eh.” Yoongi did a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of. Not really. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually feel something for this girl, something beyond the thoughts that come from your lower head.”

“And she feels something for you too, even after that trainwreck that we just witnessed in there,” Taehyung added patiently. “Which will help us a lot in the long run.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Jungkook crossed his arms, stubborn. He really could look and sound like a child throwing a tantrum when he wanted to. “I still don’t get it. It wasn’t your place to tell me who I could or couldn’t be with, it’s not as if you guys are—” 

“Jungkook, that’s enough,” Taehyung interrupted him. “You don’t think it makes sense? Stop and think for once in your life.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” 

Taehyung glanced at him. “Listen, we just saved you from months of wrong dates and wrong nights. We pushed away people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted you to use you, or who would end up cheating on you anyways. Not everyone gets this privilege,” he said, completely done with that victim mentality. “So, for once in your life, be grateful. Be grateful for the bad dates,  the embarrassment, the times that it didn’t work out. And, look, we are sorry for the way they had to go down, it wasn’t as funny as it seemed from our perspective. But if you didn’t have those bad dates, you’d have very, very bad months following them. So you’re welcome.” 

“And all those bad dates lead you to the right person,” Yoongi completed, watching as Jungkook’s expression withered into shame. He was staring to get it — they could almost see the hamster in his brain start running. “Now, listen, we don’t know if this is the for-life situation, that’s not the kind of information we have, alright? Do I look like a seraphin to you? No. But does it matter?  No. Most relationships aren’t the for-life thing anyways, but they are here to teach you something. And if the afterlife thought that there was something good for you here, who are we to judge?” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed. “Now, can you  please forget about all those past people and just focus on her? Maybe shut the fuck up while you do that? I get that you wanted to get your dick wet, but there’s a time and a place for that.” 

The boy sighed, and leaned against the red handrails. It took Jungkook a few seconds to speak out. “I feel like I’ve just been lectured by my parents,” he admitted. 

Taehyung relaxed his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to slap some sense into you for months now, but I didn’t really have the permission.” 

“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.

He nodded. “Much better.”

“I’m happy for you,” he said. Jungkook ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about Y/N… There’s no way she’ll ever talk to me after this mess. I ruined everything.”

Taehyung nodded. “You pretty much did, yeah.” 

“You took the worst case scenario and managed to make it even more horrible,” Yoongi said. “It’s pretty impressive, actually.” 

“Thanks, that’s great.” Jungkook chuckled, humorless. He could always count on them for emotional support. “But, I mean… What do I do now? I mean, is there anything that we could do to save this?” 

“Worry not, my child,” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms. “Taehyung and I are masters of seduction, and we’re here to help you. Just trust us.” 

“And before you say something,” Taehyung interrupted, raising one finger. “You never had the right girl before, so we weren’t really trying. I think we can find some real solid ground here.” 

Jungkook breathed out, and looked down at the grey stairs. Yeah, it’s not like he wasn’t at the bottom of the well already. “Fine. One last chance,” he agreed, looking back at the ghosts. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

______________

Much to Jungkook’s delight, he didn’t need to muster up the courage to talk to you, because you did that first. 

For the first time in their lives (and deaths), Yoongi and Taehyung actually did something right. Jungkook didn’t really know the details of their plan, all that he knew was that they would find a way to “make you see what you were missing” so that you would “come crawling back to him”. Which didn’t sound threatening at all.

 Countless possibilities crossed Jungkook’s head — horror movie hauntings, Taehyung invading your dreams with claws for fingers, Yoongi with a wet wig crawling out of your TV — but, in the end, no matter how much he insisted, the two of them just wouldn’t say a word. Apparently, there was a lot going on backstage that Jungkook had no idea about, so he should just “take it easy” and wait for the sequence of events to unravel. Amazing. Now he knew how the characters in Final Destination felt. 

“Just be patient, young one,” Taehyung had told him, thrown over his couch like a Victorian monarch. “All you need to know is that she will be back. Everything else it’s just… details.” 

And, two weeks after the dormitory incident, you did. 

There was a muffled thud as you placed your large books over the wooden table, and sat down across from him. The silence of the library didn’t allow for Jungkook to foresee your arrival, and to meet your gaze so suddenly was enough for his face to burn up in shame, his heart drumming against his ribcage. His sympathetic system really needed to quit with that bullshit before he collapsed. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, seeming just as uncomfortable as he was. “Can we talk? You know what about.”

The boy swallowed dry, and leaned a bit forward. “Y-Yeah, sure,” he whispered back. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I don’t know why I thought—”

“For how long?” you sliced his sentence short, making his lips fall shut. 

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

You cleared your throat, and shuffled on your seat. As much as the library was practically empty, neither of you felt courageous enough to use your usual voice tone — especially when dealing with that subject. “How long have you been able to, you know, see them?”

Jungkook took a second to respond, licking his dry lips and looking at the line of bookshelves as if seeking for the right thing to say. He felt awkward enough just interacting with someone from the opposite sex, but talking about the ghosts he saw? Hell, that bordered on a panic attack. Especially after the circus show that was that past study session. “Almost two years now, I think,” he finally answered. “But they told me they’ve been around for a bit longer. I just couldn’t see it.” 

You shook your head in concordance, even if the information was everything but easy to understand. “That’s crazy,” you spoke. “I don’t know how you deal with it.” 

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “Not very well, as you can probably tell.” 

 “I don’t think I can judge you. I didn’t precisely react well either.” You swallowed dry, wide eyes flickering on the world behind Jungkook. “Are we alone now?”

As much as he already knew the answer, he looked around just to check. “Surprisingly, yeah,” Jungkook responded, slightly suspicious. Yoongi and Taehyung were always looking over his shoulder and throwing him into messy situations, he couldn’t tell why they weren’t there when, quite frankly, it was their perfect shot at humiliation. Maybe they really were doing their jobs for once. “I don’t know why they’re not here. That’s weird.”

You shrugged as if to say that you wouldn’t know either. “What are their names again?”

“Yoongi and Taehyung,” he answered, then waited another second to see if he could feel their presence. Nothing again. That was really strange — they often responded upon being called. “Listen, Y/N, I hate what we went through. They had no right to say those things. I’m used to the privacy issues, since I have been with them for a while. But you aren’t, and I can only imagine how weird you felt hearing all that. I’m really, really sorry.”

You pressed your lips together which, Jungkook guessed, was a failed attempt to suppress the rubor that exploded across your cheeks. He couldn’t blame you, though, for there were limits that were crossed. “I’m over it if you are,” was what you forced yourself to say. 

“I am,” he lied. None of you were particularly good at not telling the truth, and that was pretty obvious. But ignoring it was a start. 

“Good, okay.” You cleared your throat, placing the palms of your hands against the pile of books. “Sorry for lying about needing help in physiology, and all that. I just needed an excuse to spend more time with you, as you know now. I guess it’s obvious that I kinda have a huge crush on you.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook laughed, extremely relieved to notice that your last sentence was in present tense. “I kinda have a huge crush on you too.” 

Honestly, even if it wasn’t for life, he’d have to give you props for still liking a guy that had had a borderline psychotic breakdown in your apartment, talked about your pet tortoise, and your masturbation technique, and still had the nerve to expose you to the supernatural world. It was a lot. Good on you for taking it like a champ. 

“And,” he continued, “sorry for using my ghosts to expose your secrets. I just needed to find a way for you to believe me, and I had no idea about what they were going to say. I was pretty much in a frenzied state, I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again.” 

“Apologies accepted.” You smiled, relieved. You were really beautiful, Jungkook thought in a breathless instant. He could look at you all day. “You know, it’s going to take me some time to get used to all that. I mean, I’m still not a hundred percent sure I believe in everything, but, I… My lamp flew across the room, and you told me things that you simply couldn’t know about. So, if it’s a prank, it’s a really good one.”

“I know how it is.” He nodded in agreement. “It was really difficult for me at first, too. I understand if you’d rather just stay away from me from now on.” 

You sighed, looking down at your books —  the two mammoth-sized volumes of Harrison’s Internal Medicine staring at you in mockery. “Weird thing is: I don’t really want to.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair. Was that the sound of angels singing? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’d love to spend more time with you. Alone, if possible. And that counts both planes of existence.” 

“Sounds fair, I’d love that.” Jungkook smiled. As he met your eyes, he was filled with a  warm, rose-colored courage that he had never felt before. “Actually, I was wondering if, you know… you wanna do something? With me? Alone, of course. No ghosts. One of these days, I don’t know. If you’re not busy—”

You raised your eyebrows, interested. “You’re asking me out?”

He sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. “Trying, yeah. You can see I’m not the best at that either.”

Your smile grew a little. “That’s a big yes.”

“Really?” Jungkook stared at you like a lost puppy, his mind going completely blank for a second or two. The hamster in his brain was now somersaulting through his body, landing on his stomach and hitting him with a wave of nausea. “Wow, thanks. I don’t really have an idea of what we could do, though. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”

There was an instant of quietude as you thought for a moment, the space between the two of you permeated by the vague sounds of pages turning. “Movies?” You asked. 

“Sounds great.” Jungkook smiled openly, his shoulders falling in alleviation. He didn’t know what Taehyung and Yoongi had done, but he was beyond thankful for it. Seemed like their sacrifices weren’t in vain, after all. “The film majors are doing this 2000’s marathon this week. I think this Saturday it’ll be either Mean Girls or 17 Again.”

“I’m in,” you spoke excitedly. “I’ll be there, just text me the details.”

Jungkook almost swallowed his own tongue as he watched you stand up, presenting him with a gorgeous view of thighs beneath the level of your skirt. “Great!” He exclaimed a bit too loud, his voice a bit too high-pitched, awakening his inner thirteen-year-old. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice another octave. “I mean, yeah, great. Thank you for… saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking.” You placed your hair behind your shoulder, and leaned in to pick up the heavy pile of books. All nine kilos of Internal Medicine. 

“See you there,” he said. 

You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 

Jungkook watched you walk away as if he was floating in a fever dream, completely unable to believe what had just unfolded. Did he seriously manage to get a date with you? Of all people? He must’ve been hallucinating. Maybe he ended up falling down the stairwell and died, perhaps that was his heaven, and he would— 

Behind him, Taehyung sneered. “Kookie? You’re getting softer than your dick.” 

Jungkook turned around so brusquely that the chair tilted back and, if it wasn’t for him holding down to the corner of the table, he would’ve fallen to the ground. “You two were there all along?” He whispered-screamed. Before he could land a sermon on them, though, he met the devilish smirk that was plastered all over Yoongi’s features. Oh no. No. The movies. “No, Yoongi, I know what you’re thinki—”

“Get in, loser, we’re going to the movies.” 

_________________

Saturday rolled around and, with it, came your much anticipated movie date. Jungkook had spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed, completely monopolized by anxiety, thinking about every possible apocalyptic scenario that could go down. What if he tried to take a slip of his drink, but ended up blinding himself with the straw? Maybe he would step on the wrong chord and set the entire college on fire. Or maybe he would trip, fall down on a poor girl, and kill her on the spot. That would be awful, you would never talk to him again after any of that — the imaginary disappointment in your face was like a punch in the gut. 

Was he being ridiculous? Obviously. Did that stop his pre-date panic? Obviously not. 

Still, with the might of a thousand warriors, Jungkook managed to drag himself to your date, his knees almost giving out beneath him when he saw you — he didn’t believe you would actually come, for some of him still thought it was all a sadistic heaven prank. Somehow, he blurted out a compliment about how good you looked while he was having a heart attack, and almost lost his consciousness when you smiled at him. 

Yep, it would be a difficult night. 

The movie marathon consisted of three 2000’s movies, and the two of you managed to arrive right before Mean Girls started, fumbling on your seats as the rest of the room grew quiet. The makeshift classroom didn’t look like a movie theater in the slightest, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting that in the first place — it was nothing more than an agglomeration of chairs and desks, combined with a few puff chairs and old couches scattered around. Much to your delight, you and Jungkook managed to grab one of those couches before another couple returned to their seats, and he could see that his ghost buddies had already found their own place on the empty chairs behind the two of you. 

Surprise! None of the catastrophic scenarios in his mind actually came true. In fact, he had a great time with you, laughing at your jokes and sometimes flat-out stealing Yoongi’s commentary just to make you chuckle, which granted him a few mumbled complaints coming from the back row. 

“Jungkook is so superior, don’t you think, Taehyung?” Yoongi mocked, and Jungkook was sure that he would be kicking his seat if he could. “So smart. So great. But can’t even figure out his own jokes. Has to steal them from a poor dead man. You’re a grave robber.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Hey, you’re helping him, at least. That’s our whole point here.”

“Grave robber!” he repeated, more aggressively this time. “I can’t believe you’d ruin Mean Girls for me like this. Not even hell would be so cruel.” 

“How dare you say that about hell? If I get in trouble because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Yoongi, I swear to God—”

“Now you’re saying God’s name in vain, you heretic! That’s so much worse!” 

Jungkook had to bite back a laugh as the two continued bickering behind him, only half aware of the scene in which Regina George glued her own picture on the burn book. He didn’t know when exactly he had done it — he had been so on edge the entire night that it was almost as if his own brain was instantly deleting his memories, but he had managed to curl one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He was sure that you could hear the frantic heartbeat of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t think he could even get that far. 

But he did, and even reached beyond that. 

Once the screen faded to black and the credits started appearing, there was a resounding wave of claps in the room, cheering for the absolute cultural reset that was that movie. One of the students moved to the front of the room, explaining that they would take a ten minutes break, then would return with She’s All That. Apparently, 1999 was close enough to the 2000’s for it to be picked as well. 

“Do you wanna stay and watch it?” He asked, fighting every muscle in his body not to smell your hair. He knew that it would be super creepy, yeah, but your head was right there and it smelled so good. 

You removed your body from his chest, looking up at him. “I would love to, but I have to wake up early tomorrow to study,” you said. “Big test on Monday.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, slightly let down. To be honest, he had completely forgotten that information until that point. Seems like he would have a lot to catch up on during the next day. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 

You thanked him with a smile, and you two got moving. 

The walk back to your place wasn’t exactly awkward, but it could have also been a lot better. The two of you talked about the movie animatedly, the subject that you had to study — an awful amount of gastric pathology to memorize — and, eventually, landed on your weirdest experiences during hospital rounds. You were in the middle of telling him how two toddlers (twins) managed to puke on you at the same time, and how you thought that was a sign of a telepathic connection between the two, when he felt the back of his hand brush against yours, and everything around him turned into static. Suddenly, it was all that he could think about. 

Jungkook had already spent the entire date with questions flying around his head. When was the right time to pull you close? Could he hold your hand, or would that be too bold? Could you smell how sweaty he was? Or maybe his deodorant was too strong? If he ran away, trained to be an astronaut, and joined the Mars colonization mission, would he be able to avoid embarrassing himself again? 

And, more importantly: would it be weird to kiss you goodnight? 

Considering the fact that he had no clue how to read your body language, and that almost all of his romantic experience came from bad sitcoms and Twilight marathons with Yoongi, Jungkook didn’t judge himself suited to answer that last question. He didn’t know if he should hold your hand, he didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you actually had a good time. Again and again, his anxiety got the best of him. He should really get back to seeing his campus counselor. 

“So… we’re here,” you said, holding your hands in front of your body. You had stopped at the entrance of your block, and Jungkook took that as a sign that you didn’t want him to go all the way back to your apartment. Fair enough. “Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometimes.” 

“For sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, somewhat relieved that you asked for that. At least that was a clear sign that you didn’t completely hate him. “That would be great.” 

You agreed and looked down at your shoes. The darkness of the night enveloped the two of you, only half of your features illuminated by the dim yellow shine of the nearest light post. Jungkook almost fainted when you stared into his eyes, with a faint blush painting your cheeks, and questioned, “So, you’re not gonna kiss me?” 

Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.

 “I… I, uh—” Jungkook’s mouth felt as if he had just swallowed an entire desert, his brain fighting to keep his voice steady. Your eyes, so focused and expectant, felt like daggers against his chest. “I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he finally admitted. 

Your shoulders fell as a tender smile curled up on your roseate lips. Jungkook thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I do,” you told him gently. His heart almost leaped out of his throat. “Do you want to?” 

And that was the easiest question that he would ever answer. “Yeah,” Jungkook said. 

You smiled. “Perfect.” 

The boy barely had time to react before your hand was curling around the fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him towards you in a playful tug. Jungkook’s eyes stayed comically widened for a second after your lips met, but, soon enough, he allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his nervous hands landing on your waist, and his mind instantly calming down. 

He kissed you slowly, carefully, almost afraid that, at the faintest of movements, reality would shatter and he would lose that moment forever. Of course, it didn’t, and he stayed on that instant a bit longer before, at last, he pulled away, slightly breathless. 

“I should’ve done that sooner,” he confessed. 

You tilted your head at him, fingers playing with his hair. “It happened at the right time,” you said. “Some things can’t be rushed. Especially the good ones.” 

Just like that, he understood what Taehyung and Yoongi had been saying all those years. No matter how cliche it was, there was some truth to the saying that ‘what is supposed to happen, will’. And, the better that something is, the more work it will require. 

But, as he kissed you again, Jungkook realized that it was all worth it in the end.

____________

The following months by your side were so amazing that Jungkook constantly brought back his theory that “maybe he was actually dead, and that was heaven.” And, if it was, he would make sure to shake God’s hand himself because, holy fuck, was he one lucky man. 

Okay, maybe the first few weeks together were a bit painfully cringe-worthy, but he was really trying to pretend as if they didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t really get the memo, and he had to slowly figure out how to behave romantically with you. He got it wrong the first few times — kissing you at the worst possible moment, or sending you a huge bouquet of roses during your microbiology exam — but, eventually, you guided him towards more neutral grounds. Then everything went smoothly. 

Surprisingly, even the undead duo calmed down for a while. Yoongi and Taehyung were still around, since they had no other option, but were much quieter now, only making punctual remarks when Jungkook made a fool out of himself. Hell, they even left the room when things started getting more serious between the two of you, instead of giving Cosmopolitan-worthy advice, and that was a huge improvement. 

But, of course, it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s life if there wasn’t a huge joke waiting just around the corner. Soon enough, another issue would present itself. 

It came in the form of a warm mumble against his lips, and the vague — yet deliciously noticeable — rolling of your hips against his own. “Jungkook,” you called, breathless after a long make-out session. The two of you were on his couch, with you sitting on his lap, straddling him. “I want you.” 

He froze. What else would he do? Jungkook was a panicked virgin. He knew that your intimate times would happen eventually — and he really wanted them to — but he didn’t expect that his mind would completely malfunction once he got so close, with his erection growing inside his pants and the softness of your breasts pressing against his torso. It was just a lot, alright? 

And, lost amidst the tempestuous sea of his sudden despair, all that he could utter back was, “Are… Are you sure you want to do this right now?” 

“Yeah.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook thought that he could faint on the spot. It was actually a pretty common sensation with him. “You don’t want it?”

“No — I mean yeah! Yeah, I want it.” He choked on his words, looking down in embarrassment, only to meet the contour of your thighs. His youth leader had been right all along: temptation was everywhere. “I’m just… I’ve never done anything before.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, placing your hands on his shoulders. The heat of your palms seemed to have some effect on the chaotic emotions that boiled inside him, for his muscles relaxed considerably under your touch. “I won’t pressure you, okay? If you want to take more time, it’s completely fine.” 

“No, it’s not like that. I don’t feel pressured.” He shook his head, then looked up at you. You could almost feel the conflict inside his gaze, the mixture of anticipation and fear that you knew all too well. “I want you, Y/N, I really do. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated. “We don’t have to do anything now, and we can start slo—”

But he couldn’t listen to the end of your phrase, because a familiar voice damn near hollered from the other side of the room. “Taehyung, come in here! Quick!” Yoongi yelled, signaling through the door like he was controlling the air traffic. “He’s getting some! Jungkook’s about to get his cherry popped the fuck off!” 

You tilted your head to the side, staring him down with preoccupation. “Jungkook? Are you okay?”

“The fuck! There is no fucking way!” Taehyung’s voice got louder as he yelled, signaling his growing proximity. “Call NASA right now!”

Jungkook sighed, throwing his head against the couch. Goodbye erection, and goodbye any chance of having sex that day. “Yoongi and Taehyung just showed up,” he mumbled bitterly. 

You lowered your gaze and took a deep breath, then removed yourself from his lap. Jungkook hated the lack of heat, and he swore he would have drop-kicked the two if they weren’t in a different dimension. The certainty of death was all that he needed to know that he would get his revenge some day. “Of course they did,” you complained, fixing your clothes. “I love being cockblocked by cockless ghosts. Again.”

“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 

Jungkook turned around harshly, his voice bitter. “Can the two of you just fuck off? This is not the time.” 

“So you two can fuck?” Yoongi grinned, then looked at Taehyung. “We should, actually.”

“Jungkook… this is too weird now.” You raised your hands in a silent bargain for it all to stop. You could deal with a few psychic sessions every once in a while, but being a voyeurism victim for ghosts wouldn’t be the way you wanted to spend your afternoon. “Let’s do this another time, okay? I should get going anyways. Big day at the hospital tomorrow.” 

He took one of his hands to his face, massaging his temple. You got up from the couch, reaching for your backpack. “Yeah, okay.” The boy pouted, and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Disappointing end for a night, to say the least. “Good luck tomorrow. Text me if you get an interesting case!”  

“Thanks! I will.” You threw your backpack strap over your shoulder and started walking towards the exit. Jungkook couldn’t blame you for just wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, he was sure that the discomfort was much worse for you. “Bye, Jungkook! I’ll let you know when I get to my place.”

He opened his mouth to thank you, but you were already out the door. The lock clicked shut, and the silence became thick, mocking him. Even if he already had an actual girlfriend, Jungkook still found himself being left behind by someone that would never want to see him again — dick semi-hard and morale shattered on the ground. Seems like he always found himself back in that position. 

Taehyung materialized on the couch next to him, hugging his knees. He was staring at the closed door, somewhat expecting that you would come back, but knowing very well that you wouldn’t do so. “Okay, I accept that it was our fault,” he said, oscillating his gaze towards Jungkook. “Sorry, man. We are like, super invested in this. There’s almost nothing interesting going on in the afterlife and this is, like, better than any TV show airing right now.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, utterly exhausted at the mess that had become his life. He was done giving them sermons: it had basically turned into the world’s worst pastime and gave little to no results. “You know what? Just promise me you’re not going to show up next time.” He stared both of them down. “I don’t wanna be watched, that’s just weird. And I know that Y/N isn’t happy about that either.” 

Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 

“Yeah, I’m not one of those people,” he told him. “Guys, please. I know you two are as excited as I am about this, and I appreciate your... support, but I think this is something I need to do alone. In peace. Not being watched by spirits. That’s isn’t too much to ask.”  

“He’s right, you know?” Taehyung said, looking back at Yoongi. “We should stay in our lane for now.” 

The other ghost looked down at his feet, which basically morphed into the carpet beneath them. For the first time in two long years, he actually seemed like he was rethinking his actions. “Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi responded. “We got carried away. We’ll leave next time. Maybe try something when your neighbors are having a movie night.” 

Jungkook’s shoulders fell in alleviation.  Maybe not everything was doomed. “Thank you,” he spoke, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that. When is the next one?” 

Taehyung looked at Yoongi, then back at him. “What are the chances that you’re gonna get your virgin shit together by tomorrow night?”  

___________

Slim to none, actually, but he had managed to (kind of) do it. Focus on the “kind of.”

Jungkook had spent the previous night doing in-depth research about sexual intercourse,  and basing his actions in real-life situations. That meant that he stayed up until four in the morning watching porn. Not masturbating. Just watching it very closely and trying to learn what to do — like an actual serial killer. 

“Do you think that this is… a good idea?” Taehyung spoke from the other side of his room, preoccupation plastered all over his face. The whole porn-science was funny for the first twenty minutes, and then it just ended up being terrifying. “You know that people don’t actually have sex like that, right? It’s all exaggerated.” 

“Quiet!” Jungkook raised his finger after a particularly loud moan echoed, his eyes red and glued to the computer screen. The white light from his device was awfully sharp, bathing his figure and making his image border on demonic. It really wasn’t a good look. “I’m researching. I need to know what to do.” 

“You look and sound like a maniac.” Taehyung walked closer to the bed, measuring his movements. After he died, he thought that he would never be afraid of any other living thing — but Jungkook had just proved him wrong. Against his best judgement, he took a peek at the screen. “No! Oh my— That’s not natural. That’s so wrong. You should know, you studied anatomy.” 

“I’m not gonna do this tomorrow,” Jungkook mumbled, closing the video. Taehyung recoiled back to the darkness of the room like a vampire that had just been touched by the sun. “The plot was interesting.” 

“You’re not even hard, man,” he said, pointing at Jungkook’s trousers. “This is like, really weird. You should stop before you have some problem getting it up tomorrow.” 

“What are you trying to say?” He narrowed his eyes, paranoid. “That wouldn’t happen. I know what I can do.”  

“You’re the medical student, take a look,” Taehyung insisted. “There’s research about that, pornography affects young men and women a lot and— Actually, what the fuck am I talking about? This is crazy. I should’ve left with Yoongi.” 

“Wait, I just—” Jungkook closed his computer with a sigh. His hair was disheveled and his gaze was unfocused. It really was the oddest night in Taehyung’s life/death. “I just don’t know what to do tomorrow. I’m about to have an anxiety attack. It’s like the third one tonight.” 

Taehyung pressed his lips together, the discomfort inside him being replaced by a warm sense of understanding. “Man, she knows you don’t have experience. She isn’t expecting a porn star performance, or whatever the fuck you were just watching.” He pointed to the computer, which was now neglected amongst the sea of blankets. “By the way, I’m a changed spirit. I hate you for making me see that.” 

Jungkook would have laughed at his distress if he wasn’t too tired to do that. “Technically, you decided to look at it yourself,” he corrected. “But, yeah, I know she’s not expecting anything great. But I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself, you know? Not like it’s a rare occasion or anything.” 

Taehyung shrugged. Being alive made everything seem so much more important than it actually was, he thought. “Lay back and let her take the lead, then.” 

Jungkook furrowed his brow, his eyes widening at the idea. Of course! That was the big  galaxy brain moment he needed all along. “Are you serious? It’s that simple?” He asked, hopeful. 

Taehyung chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Yeah. It was that simple. Who would’ve thought that those see-through idiots actually would have something intelligent to say? 

Really, it was a time of miracles in Jungkook’s life. The following day, the planets aligned and, for the first time ever since puberty, everything went right for him: the class ended a bit early, his neighbors decided to watch two movies instead of one, and his place was perfectly devoid of any paranormal activity by the time you wandered into it. 

He didn’t tell you that he had planned that entire thing before it happened — he thought it would be super strange to schedule his virginity loss out loud — and he was glad to see that everything evolved naturally. One hour and forty minutes after you arrived, you two were already at the same point that you had left the day before — only, this time, you two actually managed to get to his bed.

“They’re not here, are they? You’re sure?” You asked in between kisses for what should’ve been the fifth time. 

“No, I asked them to leave earlier.” Jungkook’s hands pressed down on your hips, the sensation of your center rolling against his erection eliciting a sigh from him. Ha! Fuck Taehyung and his soft dick curse. “I actually… Before we do anything, I actually wanted to know if you could, you know, help me a little.” 

You hummed, taking your face away from his. Jungkook watched as you licked your lips, your eyes dazed, and leaned in to place another kiss against his mouth. “In what way?” You asked. 

“Just... show me what to do,” he said. “What you like, if I’m doing something wrong… everything.” 

With a soft smile, you agreed, arms curling around his shoulders. “Of course,” you told him. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 

That being said, you dove back to his lips, feeling as he both simultaneously relaxed and tensed up under your touches. Jungkook had evolved a lot in those past few months, you realized, since the early-dating version of him wouldn’t find himself in that position without turning into a stuttering, blushing mess beneath you. It was kind of cute, but you’d never say that out loud. 

You felt his hands trailing up your back, underneath your clothes, his palms dwelling in the softness of your skin for a moment before, in a courageous movement, he decided to pull your shirt up. There was a short separation of your mouths as the piece of clothing slid up your arms, and collapsed against the floor in a puddle of cotton. 

Jungkook sighed once he felt the lace of your bra against his hands; the softness of your breasts was something that he continuously daydreamed about. Now, without the barrier of your clothes, all that he needed was to remove that last constriction and he would be— 

“Oh well…” He chuckled nervously, fumbling with your bra. “Sorry, I don’t know how to open this.”

You smiled at the embarrassment that danced around his features. “Relax, okay?” You said, moving your hands to your back and taking care of that problem yourself. You’d teach him about the magic of unclasping bras another time. “It’s fine.”

But Jungkook didn’t have time to think about an answer, for soon your bra was meeting your shirt on the floor. His reaction would’ve been the same if you just moved over and came back with a baby dinosaur in your hands — his eyes widening in amazement as he took in the image of your nude breasts, a small whimper perishing in his throat as he slithered his hands upward, cupping them. 

Your breath stopped for a moment when he leaned in, reluctant, and enveloped one of your nipples with his warm mouth, his tongue delicately coming out to trace circles on your sensitive flesh. Jungkook groaned at the sensation, his cock becoming unbearably hard against his pants, and tilted your body over so he could be on top of you. 

You curled up against the sheets, sighing in delight as the boy continued to work on your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly, taking his time. Every time you looked down, you could see that Jungkook was having almost as much fun as you, the small moans that dripped from his tongue vibrating inside your chest. 

“Does it feel good?” He raised his gaze towards you, expectant. “Am I doing a good job?” 

“Yes, very good.” Your hands curled around the roots of his hair. The action was gentle, but Jungkook shuddered under the sensation — every small movement proved itself to be a lot for him to handle. “You’re doing amazing. Is there something that you want to do, Kookie?” 

The boy licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Part of him (probably the sleep deprived one) still didn’t believe that you two were actually doing that — that it wasn’t just a figment of his horny imagination. No, it was real. You were right there in front of him, beautiful and devastating, caressing his hair as you waited for an answer. 

“I… I want to make you feel good,” he said, wide-eyed and hesitant. His dick felt painfully hard being so constructed by his pants and, suddenly, he became aware of how clothed he still was. No wonder it was so hot. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” 

Your lips curled up at his adorableness, one of your hands meeting his wrist. Patiently, you guided it down, and placed it on the hem of your pants. “Can you touch me?” You questioned. “I can tell you what I like.” 

“Oh, please,” he almost pleaded, his hand already fumbling to open your pants. Much to his delight, those were a lot easier than your bra, and they were soon sliding down your legs with ease. 

He took a moment to take in your form, eyes traveling up from your legs, to your hips, then all the way back to your breasts. As Jungkook met your gaze, he allowed for a suspire of relief to depart from his mouth, shoulders relaxing. “I’m so lucky,” he spoke, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

The smile that you presented him looked brighter than all of the stars above. “Come here,” you called, leaning against your elbows. “Give me a kiss.” 

Obedient, Jungkook did as you requested, a grunt escaping his chest once you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, nails brushing lightly against the skin of his neck. He had goosebumps at the sensation, his hand moving by its own will, navigating down your stomach and towards your heat. 

His fingers hovered, insecure, over the hem of your panties for a moment. Still, at the sound of his name being spoken against the kiss, he was overtaken by an ephemeral spark of courage. Soon, your panties were on the floor too. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook whined at the contact, his fingers dwelling just above your entrance. Inside his pants, his cock twitched at the sensation, his lower body already tingling with excitement. He didn’t know how he would manage not to cum in his pants, but he would have to find a way. “What do I do now?” 

“Now...” you said, leaning your head against the pillow. “Move up and find my clit. Make all those hours of anatomy worth it,” you joked. 

Jungkook nodded, but anatomy was much more difficult when he wasn’t actually looking at a certain part of the body — he was much more interested in watching your expression. Embarrassed, he did as you requested, trailing his wet fingers up until you told him to stop. “Right there,” you said, sighing once you felt his hand pressing down on it, starting to trace small circular patterns. “That’s it, baby, great job.” 

His heart leaped at the compliment, and his actions became firmer. Jungkook thought he would go insane when he heard you whimper and cry out at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his hand ever so slightly. “You’re so hot,” he breathlessly confessed, his words coming in a hot puff of air against your neck. His digits slowly trailed down, towards your entrance, and he paused. “Can I?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

Jungkook swallowed hard, adventuring one finger inside you. At the sensation of your walls clenching around him, he moaned, biting his lip. “God, you’re so tight,” he told you, adding a second finger. You raised your hips at the contact, hands curling on his hair. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” 

His mouth came back to your breasts, sucking and licking your flesh. Jungkook was a mess, you realized — pressing down his hard member against your thigh, whining against your skin as his fingers curled inside you, sinking into your wetness. God, you weren’t made of steel. “I want it,” you told him, and he didn’t understand your words for a moment. “I want to feel you, Jungkook.” 

And he didn’t need anything else. The boy moved away from your body and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. It was no time for hesitation— he didn’t know how much of his precious alone time he had left. “Condoms.” He pointed at his nightstand. “Top drawer.” 

You turned around on the bed, reaching for the furniture as the boy unbuckled his belt and clumsily removed his pants. The mattress bounced beneath you as Jungkook tossed himself around, finding a way to lose his balance as he threw his pants on the ground. Much to his relief, you weren’t paying much attention to it. 

He was already panting — in a mixture of excitement and his pathetic effort to remove his pants — by the time that you gave him the condom. “Do you put it on, or do you want me to?” You asked. 

Jungkook had trained on enough bananas to know that he could do it, but he wasn’t gonna let the chance to have you touching him down there pass. “You do it, please.” 

You nodded, sitting next to his expectant figure. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in anticipation, his muscles glistening with the small droplets of sweat that decorated his caramel skin.  His cock was hard and heavy against the fabric of his grey underwear, practically calling for your care. 

Attentively, you watched as his abdomen tensed up at the feeling of one of your hands pressing down against his clothed erection, delicately moving towards his crown. A gasp tumbled from his lips as you rolled your thumb against it, noticing the wetness that had already accumulated beneath your hand, and he rolled his hips against the pressure. Really, Jungkook was too precious. 

“Please, don’t tease,” he begged, eyes following your every move. His cock throbbed in your hands, needy. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” 

With a hum of agreement, you moved your hand away from his erection, and pulled his underwear down gently. Jungkook whimpered at the fiction, and the way his cock was freed from its constraints, bouncing back against his abdomen. The smallest of touches was more than enough for him to lose himself. 

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you calmed him down, slowly (too slowly) rolling the condom on him. His hands clenched into fists next to him, grabbing handfuls of the white sheets. Okay, maybe you were being a bit mean. “Just tell me what you want.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a cry of frustration. “Ride me, please,” his words came out in a plea, his expression so permeated by need that you thought that he could cry if you teased him any further. God, everything was so perfect about him — the glistening in his onyx irises, the reddening of his lips as he bit down on them, trying to fight back a whimper as you placed yourself over him. “I— I need to feel you. I’m going crazy.” 

There was no need for more convincing — again, you weren’t made of steel. 

You sighed as you sank down on his member, one of your hands finding support against his pecs, as the other curled around his cock, guiding him inside you. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head against the alabaster pillow, his flower-like lips opening to cry out at the sensation. “Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.” 

Seeing him like that, so submissive, so deliciously responsive to your faintest of touches, was, at the very least, extremely erotic. You loved to see the way he flinched and whined at the sensation of your walls clenching around him, his hands unsure of where they should be on your body. Awfully slow, you rose your hips from him, almost letting him slip out, before you shifted your weight back down, watching as Jungkook moaned out your name. 

God, he was really about to fall apart. 

Slowly, you began setting a pace, moving up and down on his cock. It was a lot slower than Jungkook expected, but it was just the right speed to make him appreciate every sensation of your body wrapping his own. 

“Feels good?” you asked, a bit breathless. The sensation of him filling you up was even better than you had anticipated, and, combined with his shameless exclamations of pleasure, you didn’t think that you’d last much longer either. 

Before he could answer, a tremulous sigh ruptured upon his mouth, reverberating just behind his teeth. Jungkook took another second to find his words, inhaling sharply. “So good,” he spoke, and you almost whined out at the lust that ornamented his voice. “Can you move faster? Please?” 

Maybe in different times, you’d take your time to provoke him a bit more. At that point, though, you’d do anything he wanted you to. “Yeah,” you agreed, doing as requested. The sound of your wetness and the slapping of skin against skin was lewd, filling the room alongside Jungkook’s voice. “Like this?”  

“Fuck, yeah, like this,” he cried out, closing his eyes in absolute euphoria. He could feel the movement of your asscheeks against his palms, the sensation enough to drive him insane. Jungkook was already amazed at the fact that he didn’t embarrass himself with premature ejaculation the second that you removed his underwear — but it didn’t mean that he didn’t get close to it. The second his hands squeezed your ass, he was positive he would end the game a bit earlier than the two of you would like. “It— it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a moan, you threw your body forward, placing kisses on the curvature of his neck, a sensation that quickly sent shivers down his skin. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper inside you, causing for you both to melt in pleasure. “You feel so good,” you told him, nails digging against his flesh. The knot in your stomach was all too familiar, and you knew that you wouldn’t take much longer. “I love having you inside me.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” He mumbled, only half aware of the words leaving his lips. Jungkook’s eyes were dazed and unfocused, looking at nowhere in particular, his fingertips digging in your flesh. “You’re… you’re getting tighter.” 

“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, voice coming out in a moan. “I’m close.” 

He swallowed hard. “I can help,” he said. 

Before you could ask what he was trying to do, Jungkook moved his hand back to your center, two of his fingers playing with your clit. You gasped at the sensation, eyes closing as you kept riding him, rolling your hips, feeling as he reached for every part of you. It was all becoming too much, the pleasure that decorated his features, the  delicious friction of his body against yours, the frail moans that dropped from his tongue like honey. He was just too much. 

With a faint call of his name — a melody that would be stuck in his head forever —, you finally crossed the threshold of your orgasm, and came around him; morphing into a trembling and moaning mess. Jungkook watched, in absolute awe, as your face was monopolized by bliss, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip and your eyes rolling back. 

He removed his hand from your heat, placing it on your waist. Using every final ounce of energy in your body, you continued riding him. Through parted lids, you noticed that his thighs were starting to shake, signaling that he, too, was close. “Baby,” the boy called out, his fingers digging to the sides of your hips. Jungkook was both trying to guide your movements, and hold himself back to reality. It was a beautiful view — the way his expression lingered somewhere between delight and distress; his hips mindlessly trusting up against yours. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

You breathed out through your nose, trying to ignore the pleasure that, now, was turning into sensitivity. It felt good, in a way, but you were more focused on his relief at that point. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you told him, “you can let go.”

He had been so polite the entire time, with his “please” and “thank you’s. So, of course, when you told him that it was okay for him to cum, he did just as you requested. 

Jungkook came with gasping breaths and a trembling, high-pitched moan, holding on to you as he thrusted his last sloppy advances towards your core. His hands, weak, fell on the bed besides him, clenching the sheets; eyelashes fluttering down as he dwelled on the afterglow of his pleasure. You could stay there forever, looking at the pink shade that colored his cheeks; the beautiful mess that his black hair had turned into; or the tears of relief that accumulated at the corner of his eyes. 

But everything has to end, even the most beautiful ones. 

His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his eyes, still hooded, met yours. Not even the biggest minds in the renaissance could’ve thought of an image so perfect, so ethereal. “You’re so amazing,” he praised. “That was… amazing.” 

You smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips. His member slipped out of you at the action, and his arms curled around your waist, keeping you in place. “You did pretty well,” you mumbled as you lazily curled up against his chest. Jungkook’s body was a delicious source of heat, and you could really get used to that. “I see a bright future ahead of you.”

He hummed, caressing your hair. Jungkook could finally smell it without being creepy, so that was a big victory for him. “You did most of the work,” he said. 

“That’s not an issue.” You nuzzled his neck, pleasantly feeling as goosebumps spread throughout his body. Always so responsive. “I’ll let you take the lead next time, if that sounds good to you.”

Jungkook chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah,” he agreed. Part of him thought about using a few tricks he learned during his late-night research, but he wasn’t super sure that it would be a good idea. Maybe he should keep that card up his sleeve for a bit longer in case he needed to surprise you later. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s kind of late to go back to your place now.”

The words fell from his tongue with ease, surprising the boy for an instant. He noticed that he was much more comfortable in your presence, like the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Not because of the sex itself, he realized, but because of the vulnerability and intimacy that came with it. It happened just as it was supposed to. 

 “I’d love to.” You smiled, and placed a kiss against his neck. “But I’m going to kick you out if you start snoring.” 

“Out of my own place?” He asked. 

You sighed, voice filled by traces of your upcoming slumber. “Don’t you test me,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around him. “Medical school is killing me, I need some sleep. And I will get it no matter the price.” 

Jungkook laughed at your tired words, one of his hands caressing your head in infinite delicacy. As he held to your body, curling so perfectly against his own, he knew that everything would be okay. And maybe he needed a good night of sleep too. 

A few minutes later, as he started to feel the sensation of his consciousness slowly drifting away to the land of dreams, a bittersweet sentiment overtook his chest. There was an instant, even if ephemeral, in which Jungkook believed he would never see Yoongi and Taehyung again — after all, the two had already concluded their mission: Jungkook got the girl and there was nothing else left for them to do. In between two consecutive breaths, he felt both relief and solitude. Silence wasn’t as welcoming once he realized no voice could break it. 

Though, his melodramatic moment was short-lived. Behind him, a known timbre cheered for him:

“I’m so proud, I feel like a soccer mom.”

[oreoambitions]

46 for agentreign please

Anon I'm sorry this took me a thousand years, but here you go. This gets wildly NSFW after the cut. Enjoy!

/// The first time it happens, Alex figures it's a fluke.

There are, after all, extenuating circumstances. She's not sure how many glasses of wine she's had because every time she turns around Sam has topped her off again, and maybe she should stop indulging but the wine is good and the company is better and this is the first day off off she's had for so long that it's hard not to let go a little. Kara's been keeping the showtunes coming all afternoon, a little louder than her old bluetooth speaker can really handle but it doesn't matter because Spotify is really just an excuse for Kara and Sam to sing at the top of their lungs. Alex is not participating, but she is appreciating. Appreciating because it's nice to see her sister laugh and smile like maybe things are getting better and maybe things are going to be okay. And also appreciating because, well, Sam. It's hard not to appreciate anything and everything Sam.

The activity of the afternoon is ostensibly the production of baked goods for a fundraiser related to Ruby's soccer team. Alex says 'ostensibly' because the reality is that it's been more than three hours and they haven't gotten the first batch of cookies into the oven yet. There's flour all over the floor, and she's pretty sure Kara got butter stuck to ceiling before Sam took the mixer away, but sometimes that's just the cost of a slightly raucous afternoon well spent, isn't it? And they'll have it all done in time anyway. In fact, Sam is just now finishing up the first batch of cookie dough in the confiscated kitchen aid when Alex, perhaps inebriated or perhaps just feeling emboldened by the domestic comfort of the whole affair, lunges for the beater.

This, it turns out, is either a mistake or the best decision she's ever made in her life. Her hand does contact the beater. She does come within a few seconds of pure raw cookie dough bliss. But Sam is faster, and in a flash Alex finds herself pinned between the counter and Sam's hips, one wrist wrapped up in Sam's fingers, the beater now soundly out of reach in Sam's other hand.

"Mine," Sam growls, but her eyes have dropped to Alex's mouth and for one disorienting moment Alex thinks she might be about to kiss her, thinks maybe the word 'mine' has nothing to do with the beater at all, that maybe they've crossed into some alternate dimension where there's a future for her and Sam that doesn't involve a lot of politely smiling and politely never mentioning one another's romantic entanglements or the absence thereof.

And the thing is, Alex thinks to herself, contemplating the heat of Sam's gaze and the fact that she literally cannot move beneath Sam's hips, this is... attractive. This is very attractive, in an immediate and throbbing sort of way that would be frankly embarrassing approximately half a glass of wine earlier in the afternoon. But that can't be right, because Alex doesn't like to be pushed around. Alex is the one who does the pushing. Isn't she? Sam's grip tightens around her wrist and Alex's lips part of their own accord and-

"Oh for heaven's sake," Kara says, snatching the beater out of Sam's hand. "It's mine, because you two are both being ridiculous." She rolls her eyes. "I hate being the only adult in the room."

It was a fluke. That's what Alex thinks to herself later that night when she wakes with a start from a just-dozing-off dream featuring the immovable nature of Sam's hips. They were drinking and it was a long afternoon and everyone was a little wound up and a little giddy and Alex has been single for a long time. That's it. That's all it was. That's all it has to be.

///

It's harder to write it off as a fluke the second time, but she manages.

James is in town and so it's game night. Not their monthly game night as scheduled, but an extra at-the-last-second game night, and Alex is on call. Which is fine. She can count on her fingers the number of times she's had to handle something in the middle of the night while on call for the DEO, and she's not particularly worried. But it's a problem because she can't be drinking, which means she's sober when Sam corners her in the kitchen.

It's been a long night. Not in a bad way. Just in the sense that things have been a little more risque than usual, what with Nia falling over herself trying to make it clear to Brainy that she'd like to sleep with him without actually making it clear, and Lena shooting those long smoldering looks at a characteristically oblivious Kara, and then there's Sam. Alex can't stop looking at Sam in that shirt where it sits a little too tight across the shoulders, can't stop tracing the line of that necklace to the place where it disappears just below her collar, can't stop following the meaningless movement of her fingers as she absently fiddles with a beer that wouldn't have an effect on her even if she drank the whole case. She wonders idly if it's for the aesthetic or if Sam just likes the taste of a craft IPA.

The trouble is that every time Alex catches herself looking at Sam, she also catches Sam looking at her. And so, upon dragging her eyes up once more from Sam's fingers to find Sam staring back at her, eyes dark and expression unreadable, Alex decides it's time for a drink after all. One beer won't hurt, even if the world decides to consider coming to an abrupt conclusion in the next hour or so and it turns out to be her responsibility. It's just that her mouth is suddenly dry, and the room is suddenly too loud, and she needs something to roll between her fingers the way Sam is rolling that IPA back and forth and back and forth and- Yeah. Just one beer will be fine.

She slips into the kitchen while Nia is yelling about how they should all do a TikTok together. It's quieter here, and a cool breeze through the window over the sink raises goosebumps across her arms. She pops the fridge open, pulls a beer at random, leans up against the counter. Maybe she doesn't want a drink after all. Maybe she just needs a minute.

"Aren't you on call, Ms. Danvers?"

Sam. Alex pouts. "What are you, the party police?"

Sam steps up close, takes the beer from Alex without so much as looking at it. "Aren't you the alien invader police?"

That's a dumb line and it doesn't remotely reflect Alex's actual job description, but she laughs anyway. "It's just one beer. Like 4%. I can handle it."

"I know," Sam murmurs.

Alex thinks she's forgotten how to breathe. Sam's eyes are on her mouth and those hips are pressing into her again and when Sam slips one arm around her waist and one hand into her hair a sound comes out of her that might have been a whimper. There's an inevitability to the way Sam leans in, to the way Alex's lips part as Sam tilts her head back with a firm tug. There's a moment of hesitation, a lingering, an opportunity to say no. Instead, Alex whispers, "Please."

Sam obliges. She kisses her slow, languid almost, holds her firm against the counter as she licks into her mouth and Alex is thinking that maybe she's going to come right here just letting Sam kiss her like this when Sam presses a thigh between her legs and she gasps, grinds down hard without meaning to.

Sam chuckles into her mouth, drags one hand around to her throat, traces feather light kisses along her jaw, tugs on her earlobe with her teeth. "Good girl," she whispers.

Alex isn't sure if it's the heat of Sam's breath, or the praise, or the way she's been casually immobilized, but she shudders, and Sam chuckles again, lips against her ear, and that only makes it worse.

"Fuck," Sam says. "If I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here."

Alex is pretty sure that would kill her. She's pretty sure just the thought of it is going to kill her. Just the pad of Sam's thumb dragging across her throat as she kisses her again, just the roll of those hips, that thigh pressing hard into her, that deep ache coiling tighter as Sam pulls back just far enough to meet her eyes and-

"Hey, Nia wants- Oh!" Lena stops short just inside the kitchen door. "I'll just." She plucks a bottle of wine from the counter. "Take this and tell her that you've uhm. That you're busy."

"We'll be right there," Sam says. She straightens Alex's shirt with a tug and a smirk. "Wouldn't want to miss the TikTok dance."

"Nope," Alex chokes out. "Wouldn't want to miss that."

It's a fluke. Alex takes a long shower when she gets home, and she takes care of the lingering ache that's now outlived not one but two TikTok dances, and she thinks about texting Sam. She falls asleep with her phone in her hand and if she has dreams about a tall, handsome, strong woman railing her against a kitchen counter, well. That happens sometimes. Could happen to anyone. Doesn't mean anything except that Alex has been single for probably too long . She downloads Hinge in the morning and considers explicitly mentioning in her bio that she's the one who wears the strap.

///

The Hinge profile lasts about three days. Alex scrolls through a ridiculous number of women, all of whom are... fine, before she comes to the conclusion that the problem is that none of them are Sam. She's sitting on this stupid app pedaling her stupid profile and all she wants is the woman whose attention prompted her to download a dating app in the first place. And she can't want Sam because it would never work. They're fundamentally incompatible. This bedroom ain't big enough for two tops. It's not going to happen.

But the words if I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here are as stuck in Alex's head as that Lady Gaga song Brainy won't stop playing over the speakers at the DEO. She can't stop thinking about it. Picturing it, even. Dreaming about it when her mind should be anywhere else, on anything else. And she'd just avoid Sam, just look the other way until her hormones sort themselves out, except that Sam is virtually impossible to avoid.

Kara doesn't make it any easier when she calls on Friday night to ask her about a movie night at Sam's apartment.

"Ruby's on a school trip, so it'll be just the four of us," Kara says over the phone. "I'll bring snacks, and we can order whatever you want for dinner. Please? Lena's never seen Star Wars; we have to do something."

Alex doesn't know how to say no. No, I won't come to what feels suspiciously like a double date movie night at Sam's apartment, because Sam's strap is at Sam's apartment, and I'm not sure that she isn't going to try to fuck me on the bathroom floor, and furthermore, I'm not sure that I don't want her to. Instead she says, "Any Star Wars? That's a crime. Which movie are we starting with?"

It's probably a safe bet anyway. Kara and Lena will be there the whole time; Alex and Sam will never be alone. All Alex has to do is make sure that she leaves when everyone else does and they can avoid the awkwardness altogether, and no that is definitely not anticipation she's feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she certainly does not spend an extra half an hour in bed on Saturday morning keeping herself busy with the thought of offering to stay and help clean up, of finding herself pinned against the refrigerator door while Sam takes her from behind. That absolutely does not happen because that would be ridiculous, undignified, untoplike behavior.

Alex is certainly feeling ridiculous, undignified, and untoplike standing outside Sam's door that evening, anxiously smoothing out her shirt with one hand, a case of that IPA from game night in the other. She's arrived a carefully calculated fifteen minutes late just to be absolutely sure Kara and Lena will get here first, but she didn't spot Kara's car outside, and so she isn't particularly surprised when Sam opens the door with a warm smile and welcomes her into an empty apartment.

"Kara and Lena?" she asks as Sam takes the proffered beer.

"Lena got held up at the office," Sam replies, already disappearing into the kitchen. "They're running late. An hour or so. Told them we'd wait. Do you prefer an IPA or a lager? I don't have any stouts in the fridge right now. Might be a decent sour in here somewhere."

Alex lingers in the entryway, that not-anticipation feeling thrumming through her veins. She could follow Sam to the kitchen. Kitchens do seem to be their Thing. But Sam returns with two lagers, her question unanswered, and nods her head towards the living room.

Well, now they're alone together after all and Alex is feeling awkward. She settles onto one end of the couch and tries not to read into it when Sam deposits the lagers on the coffee table and settles in next to her, legs folded under her, almost too close, instead of occupying the perfectly good cushion on the other end.

"Sam," Alex tries. They should talk about this. "We should talk about this."

"Hmm." A hint of a smirk flickers across soft lips before Sam schools her expression. "Talk about what, exactly?"

If Alex had bothered to rehearse this conversation in her mind, she still wouldn't have imagined it going this way. Her eyes drop to Sam's mouth and then she struggles to look elsewhere. The records on the shelf under the window. The blank television screen.

"I-" she starts, but the words don't want to come out. The lager on the coffee table. She doesn't reach for it. "I can't stop thinking about game night," she forces out, and then she looks back up at Sam to gauge her reaction.

Sam is smirking openly now, a hint of laughter in her eyes. She reaches out to tangle long fingers in the hair at Alex's nape, the same grip she used to pull her into a kiss just last week, and Alex's arousal is embarrassingly immediate. "Really?" Sam asks. "Game night, huh? You want to know what I can't stop thinking about?"

It's Alex's gaze that drops first, to Sam's mouth again, and this time she can't look away. "What?"

"Tonight," Sam replies, close enough that Alex's eyes flutter closed, close enough that she can almost feel Sam's answer on her lips. There's probably a coy response for this somewhere in the lesbian handbook but Alex is reaching and coming up empty. She presses a soft kiss to Sam's mouth instead and feels that anticipation - there's no denying now that it's anticipation - thrum again when Sam's tongue immediately presses into her, hot and demanding.

"What's so special about tonight," Alex mumbles as Sam kisses along her jaw to her neck.

"Mmm." Sam nips hard against Alex's pulse point, smiles into her skin when she gasps. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"Take your shirt off."

Alex hesitates. That isn't remotely the answer to her question, but now Sam is sucking on her neck and her capacity for rational thought is rapidly diminishing. She fumbles with the first shirt button, fingers trembling, and then the second. Three undone is enough for Sam to pull the offending garment over her head. The sports bra follows, and then Sam is tugging on Alex's hips to reposition her so that she's lying back on the couch, and Alex suddenly understands what everyone finds so attractive about kryptonians, because it's effortless the way Sam moves her. She has about a half second to be transfixed by the abs peeking out from under Sam's own blouse before Sam is kissing down her collarbone and over her breast, chuckling when Alex's hips jerk underneath her.

"You know," Sam says, "I was expecting more of a fight out of Alex But-I'm-A-Top Danvers."

Alex opens her mouth to let out a retort but Sam's tongue is working a circle around her nipple and rational thought is once again threatening to fail. "Is that what you want?" She manages, struggling to sit up. "You want a fight?"

"No." Sam pushes her back again, pins her arms over her head with one hand, brushes the fingers of the other across her ribs, frowns. "No, I like you better like this."

Alex flushes and has to remind herself not to squirm, not to look away as Sam studies her in silence, drops kisses across her shoulders, traces the lines of her hip and the inside of her thigh. And then Sam reaches under the couch for a box, the implications of which are momentarily as immobilizing as the hand still holding Alex's wrists down, because Sam planned for this, planned far enough in advance to stash supplies where they might be convenient.

Alex swallows hard when Sam's pants exit the scenario, and Sam's eyes flicker over her face as she opens the box.

"How do you feel about being strapped on the couch?" she asks.

It's such a blunt question that Alex flushes again. "Uhm. Okay?"

Sam stops with her harness halfway out. "Just okay? I'm gonna need a clear yes or-"

"Yes. God. Yes please," Alex says, flushing an even darker shade. She's going to let... this... happen, but she's not going to beg. Christ. Consent granted; please let's move on before things get awkward. Sam chuckles a little at her discomfort and presses a kiss to her brow.

"Okay. But if you want me to stop you just say the word."

Alex nods, not trusting herself to speak, eyeing Sam's fingers where they're tightening the harness. And then all at once she blurts out, "Kara and Lena could be here at any moment," which she hadn't realized might be a concern until it came out of her mouth but now she can't stop thinking about it, and how embarrassing that would be, and Kara can see through walls for heaven's sake, and-

Sam chuckles. "Baby," she says, sliding herself between Alex's legs, "You're not going to last long enough to be worried about that."

Sam is embarrassingly, excruciatingly not wrong. By the time the strap is working into her Alex is pretty sure she's wound tighter than she's ever been, and she'd crack some kind of joke about how it's clearly been too long since she's had anyone inside of her but this is really not the time. Sam is pressing inexorably deeper and it's all she can do to hold her breath because otherwise she's going to come altogether undone before they've even gotten started.

Sam gives her a moment when she's all inside, waits for Alex to exhale, waits for her nod before she starts to rock her hips, and the drag of the strap is so intense that Alex loses her breath and her self control in the same instant with a groan that only deepens Sam's smirk. Alex is kind of wishing Sam would give her back the use of her hands, but that's not in the cards. She squirms instead, hips bucking of their own accord, head thrown back hard against the cushion of the couch.

"Thought about this every night," Sam murmurs, and Alex thinks she'll say since game night but she says, "Since the day I met you," which is almost as mindblowing as the pleasure somehow, incredibly, continuing to build between Alex's hips. "Thought about how good you'd be under me."

Alex shivers at that and then comes, bucking hard into Sam to take as much of the strap as she can, half aware of Sam whispering something in her ear that might have been what a good girl you are if Alex had been cognizant enough to comprehend it. She comes back down to soft kisses across her face, and when Sam lets go of her wrists she wraps her arms around her and tries to remember how to breathe, how to pull all the pieces of herself back together, how to be a competent and capable, dignified and toplike partner.

Alex runs a hand absently through Sam's hair and hums. "Do you want me to return the favor?" she asks. She doesn't have a strap with her but, well, it's not like that was ever the best trick up her sleeve anyway. She opens her mouth to make a quip about how a good top is always prepared but Sam reaches out and casually tips an untouched lager onto her discarded shirt.

Alex splutters.

"Too late," Sam says brightly. "You'll have to ask me after dinner. Lena and Kara are here."

"Lena and Kara are what-"

And there's the knock at the door. The door not ten paces from where Alex is lying in a state of naked disarray on the couch where they are supposed to be watching Star Wars. There is a moment of absolute stillness before Alex begins to scramble for her clothes.

"Bedroom is the second door on the left," Sam says, sneaking in a last kiss while Alex reaches for the underpants peeking out from under the coffee table. "Clean shirts in closet. Do pick something nice; I've been dying to see you in my clothes."

Alex scurries down the hall in her socks quietly cursing and thanking every star in the sky. It's going to be a long night. If she's lucky.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I'm just curious (still learning) at what point after 1100 AD would Joe and Nicky been in actual danger due to homophobia? At what point would they have to start lying to people about the nature of their amazing relationship, just to stay safe? Thanks!

(This is in reference to this post, in which I skimmed over like 900 years of sociological changes in identity formation in very very broad strokes.)

So. Here’s the thing. As “western” queer people in the modern world, I think we highly associate safety with being able to be out of the closet. Can I kiss my partner in public or walk down the street holding hands without fear of encountering hate speech or physical violence? Can I tell my friends, family and coworkers about my relationship without fear of social ostracization or economic consequences?

But that’s a very modern perspective. Between “pride parade!!” and “we will definitely be murdered if anyone finds out we are lovers,” there is...A LOT of space for different kinds of historical queer experience.

So it’s not so much that Yusuf and Nicolò could be safely “out of the closet” in 12th century Baghdad but not in 19th century London. It’s not quite as far from that as you might think. But they wouldn’t have thought about it that way.

In the first few hundred years of their existence, the Islamic world was...full of contradictions when it came to homosexuality. You had a strong taboo against adult men being the receptive partner in penetrative sex, but you also had poets--like, the most famous poets of their times--writing tons of homoerotic poetry about desiring young men and boys, and that was normal and even celebrated. (If you’re familiar with the sexual mores of ancient Greece...lots of similarities here.) You had clerics writing about how there should be harsh punishments for “sodomy,” but in practice in everyday life very, very few people were ever actually disciplined in the legal system for something like that. And other forms of sexual activity between men, like kissing and various forms of non-penetrative sex, were just...not a big deal. At the same time there was kind of an unspoken “don’t ask, don’t tell” social contract around sex between men. Like, we know this thing is definitely happening, and we’re not going to talk about it, and that’s what makes it socially acceptable to continue happening. So you can have a society that in the written, religious record looks fairly intolerant toward sex between men; in practice is actually quite tolerant; where everyone sort of knows things about certain people, but where no one is really “out” in the modern sense of the terms.

At the same time, pretty much everywhere in the world at this time but definitely in the Middle East, casual touch between men was much more normalized. Two men holding hands or linking arms when walking down the street, sitting pressed up next to each other, falling asleep with your head on your male companion’s shoulder...a whole range of things that look decidedly snuggly to our modern gaze would have been totally acceptable between friends of the same gender, and would not have been considered sexual in any way. (This is still true in much of the Middle East today.)

So you can easily imagine a scenario where, like, Nicolò is lounging with his head on Yusuf’s shoulder, eating dates and listening to some saucy Abu Nuwas poem being recited, and then they go back to their private quarters and they have as much sex as they want. Are they “out”? Not really. Is anyone bothering them about how they’re living their lives? Not in the slightest. Do some people in that room see them and know? Probably, but that’s their private business and we’re not gonna talk about it. Frankly that sounds like a pretty sweet existence for a 12th century queer.

To be fair, they have a few advantages. They’re men, which means no one will really question them traveling together, without wives or families. They can easily say they’re friends or business partners and no one will really give it a second thought. I’m sure having to break off contact with their families was sad, but it’s also the case that there’s no one around asking when they’re going to get married to a woman and have children so we have someone to inherit the family business. It gives them a kind of freedom that a lot of other queer people around them wouldn’t have had.

I think once they meet up with Andy and Quynh, they do do things like pretending to be two married couples traveling together. But that’s more because of sexism, because two unmarried women traveling with two men who were not their husbands would turn some heads.

In Europe at the time, Christian theology is pretty not-into all kinds of non-procreative sex, but sex between men is not necessarily viewed as a worse sin than, say, masturbation, or sex between men and women out of wedlock. And it’s like, a category of sin that a lot of people are doing all the time, so if you were to confess such a thing to your local priest, you would be told to do penance but the consequences would be fairly mild. And many of the same things regarding casual touch hold true. Various rituals of kissing, including men kissing men on the mouth, are used as greetings, to seal contracts, and as part of mass.

Medieval Europe also had a concept variously called passionate, romantic, or chivalric friendship--close relationships between two people of the same gender that could be long-lasting, physically affectionate, emotionally intense in a way we would today read as romantic, and (allegedly) celibate. Were some of these passionate friendships actually queer relationships with a sexual component that just wasn’t talked about? Probably. Were some of them what we would define as queerplatonic or homoromantic asexual relationships today? Probably. Is it even useful to try to stuff these experiences into modern relationship categories? Debatable. The point is...the borders between what was defined as friendship, romance and love were different. Two men who traveled together, slept in the same bed, shared resources, were emotionally intimate with each other, and otherwise entwined their lives would not necessarily have been assumed to be sex partners in medieval Europe. And (I think this is the important part) Yusuf and Nicolò would not necessarily have seen being perceived as passionate friends as “hiding” the true nature of their relationship or as assigning some lesser value to it.

In terms of how they are perceived in public, I think things really don’t start to change until the early 20th century. It’s a gradual process, but over the first half of the 20th century, more or less, affectionate touch between men becomes defined as “gay” and a mainstream (straight) masculinity that is concerned with defining itself as “not gay” emerges. Affectionate touch, and then any show of loving emotion between men, gradually becomes less and less acceptable, to a degree that probably seems absurd to two 900-year-old Mediterraneans. (The absurdity is really well-expressed in the van scene, which is literally like “Bro is it gay to [checks notes]...express concern about the well-being of the person you were just violently kidnapped with?”)

Like, on the one hand, you have queer people talking openly about their sexuality in ways that were not an option at earlier times in their lives. But at the same time you have to be careful holding hands walking down the high street now because someone might chuck an empty beer bottle at you. Must’ve been a real wild transition for them.

[beezlebubss]

9 for the dynamic ask game?

“but-- that’s illegal?” + “don’t worry, we won’t get caught,”

In his lifetime, Malcolm had had to do a lot to survive. Some of it he’s proud of, some of it he’s not. No matter how he feels about it, it means he’s had plenty of experience with the less than legal ways of doing things. Drinking or smoking were crimes that were so small to him, they stopped mattering to him before he turned double digits, even if he hadn’t touched them before then.

“What are you doing?” Nico asked softly, pulling on his sleeves. He was wearing his typical comfort hoodie, a soft pink nightie with a giant picture of Kirby surfing on a shooting star on the front. Malcolm definitely considered tugging on his sleeves his cutest absentminded habit. They were under one of the slides of the neighborhood playground. It was the place Malcolm was most comfortable outside his usual district, not the slide specifically, but the entire playground. It was well used, and because of that it wasn’t as pristinely organized and polished as the rest of the town, though it was still very clearly held to a higher standard than anything from Malcolm’s community. There weren’t any crushed beer cans around, the trash cans were actually emptied.

It was nice.

Malcolm was staring down at his callous ridden hands rather than his boyfriend’s soft green eyes. He’d much rather be doing that than trying, apparently pointlessly, to scrape a match against the lighting strip. “Trying to get this to actually light,” he referred to the match, speaking through the blunt at the edge of his mouth. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes finally flitting to the sun freckled boy sitting across from him.

Nico just stared at Malcolm, lingering as always on Mal’s pale blonde hair, wanting him to grow it out already to braid it. Nico moved from pulling on his sleeves to lightly toying with his own long well-kept black hair, probably thinking again about the different hairstyles he should practice on himself for when he can do them on Mal.

If Malcolm had just been able to get a lighter, they’d already be eating the frankly delicious looking sandwiches Nico had brought. Malcolm had wanted to smoke before Nico had come, but had been struggling for far too long to give up.  This wouldn’t even have been a problem if Mal could use his ID that said he was born a year earlier, but he had promised Nico he wouldn’t.

He didn’t realize he didn’t have his own lighter on him until he was at the convenience store. He was trying to get the chips now placed on the black checkered blanket between them. The blanket also hosted an honest to fuck weaved picnic basket, like one from movies.

When Mal did realize, he figured he’d just take one, since he was already patronizing the business, but the only place lighters were was on the counter in front of the clerk.

It wasn't a promise they’d discussed much. It was the first time Malcolm saw how debilitating Nico's anxiety disorder could be. When seeing him use his fake ID so casually, Nico had immediately panicked, hyperventilating from worry about Malcolm's casually reckless lifestyle. After calming himself, Nico explained to Malcolm the consequences that could come with being recognized. Malcolm agreed at first to try to calm Nico down, but when alone and sitting with it himself, he put the ID in a part of his jacket he hasn't opened since.

“Maybe you could just…not?” Nico finally offered, now with a small braid curled around his fingers. Mal wanted to say something about how it was now the principle of the matter, but he was also hungry. He also didn’t want to unnecessarily make his love more uncomfortable than he was. Mal couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable with the smoking, with the weed, or with the proximity. Nico was staring at the blunt wearily. Mal knew not to feel judged, knew there were a couple conversations about smoking they needed to have, but couldn’t find the energy to bring it up on such a sweet and quiet date night.

“It’s not like it’s nicotine,” Mal still offered slightly defensively as he pocketed the defective matches and put the blunt back in his still crisp Marlboro pack with the rest of them, aware it didn’t make much sense. While putting them away in one of his hidden jacket pockets, he felt steel and pulled out a flask that seemed only half empty.

Nico took out some cups and a two liter of root beer before noticing the flask. He didn’t say anything but his expression very much asked again what Mal was doing.

“You don’t have to, but hey, if you wanna calm down a little bit.” Mal offered again, swirling the liquid before smelling it and trying to figure out what he had on him.

“But– that’s illegal?” Nico more questioned then said.

“Don’t worry, we won’t get caught.” Malcolm said confidently, though really couldn’t be sure. His expression seemed to remain convincing as Nico shyly held out his cup, then more confidently holding out the one intended for Malcolm. “Take a sip, tell me what you think.” Malcolm asked, finally being able to place the drink as something he’s comfortable giving Nico.

Nico smiled at him, still a bit tense, still a bit nervous, but he was smiling. Malcolm liked keeping him smiling.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Divination Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 占卜之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 16 September 2021 ]

MC: Gavin, I’ve been way too unlucky recently! I fell down while riding a bicycle, the water supply was cut halfway during a shower, and last week, three flights were delayed by more than two hours within the span of three days... Sob sob, life is so difficult...

It’s a Saturday, and Gavin has come over to my house to kill time as usual. The moment we meet, I can’t help but wail about how I painstakingly got through the week. 

As though he’s comforting a small animal, his palm gently covers the top my head.

Gavin: You’ve already told me these things.

He pulls me over to sit on the sofa, then leans over to look at my knee. Knowing his intentions and feeling afraid that he’s genuinely worried, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: Actually, it wasn’t a serious fall, and my skin didn’t tear. There were a few red cuts, but they're gone now.

Even after confirming the veracity of what I said, Gavin doesn’t straighten up. His fingers rub my knee, conveying his belated consolation.

After a while, he rests an arm on the sofa while turning his head towards me.

Gavin: Want to drink milk tea or eat cake? Didn’t you say that with these two things, even the worst of moods can be turned into the clearest of skies?

With this reminder, a location instantly flashes past my mind.

MC: Let’s drink coffee!

I reach for my phone on the coffee table. Tapping on my saved searches, I show Gavin a shop.

MC: This one - Witch Café. The name’s a little outdated, but it’s really popular recently. I’ve seen many people checking in on Moments. 

MC: The manager of this shop knows divination, and the reviews mentioned that she’s really accurate... 

MC: Also, if the results from the divination aren’t that great, she could help turn my fortune around. 

MC: The shop sells lots of objects used for changing one’s fortune, such as crystal rings and bracelets. 

MC: I think what I need most right now, aside from you... would be a change of fortune!

Gavin bursts into a laugh, then lifts his head to look at me.

Gavin: It’s my fault for not learning divination to change your fortune for the better. Otherwise, you’d only need me.

Gavin’s quick wit causes me to do a thumbs-up.

MC: Wow. Your logic... makes a little bit of sense.

He scrolls down my phone screen, taking a casual look at the café’s introduction.

Gavin: Mm, it looks really interesting and isn’t very far.

MC: It’s really nearby. It’s only a few kilometres away, and there definitely won’t be a traffic jam at his hour. But it’s the weekend, so I’m not sure if we’d need to queue.

Gavin takes my phone from my hand, then pushes me on the back gently.

Gavin: Get changed. I’ll give them a call to make a reservation.

I immediately get up, giving him a deliberately formal bow.

MC: Understood.

-

The internet-famous café is even more popular than I imagined. Although it isn’t time for afternoon tea yet, the shop is already fully packed.

Fortunately, we’re seated in a relatively quiet corner next to the window. However, we can still hear a few ladies from the neighbouring table fervently discussing the results of their divination.

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve from across the table.

MC: Gavin, you’ve never believed in such things, have you?

Gavin: Divination?

Gavin nods frankly, then suddenly chuckles.

Gavin: I initially wanted to say that I didn’t believe it. But I suddenly remembered that an Evolver who can predict the future is sitting right in front of me.

MC: ...that’s true?!

Realising this, I sink into a deep contemplation. Gavin reaches out to scratch the tip of my nose.

Gavin: I meant that as a joke. It’s impossible to meet a second Evolver with a precognition ability.

I glare at Gavin angrily. He shifts his gaze, looking at the manager who is currently talking to patrons.

Gavin: But she is an Evolver.

MC: Really? 

I turn my head to look. The manager is wearing a black apron, and she’s bending down as she patiently explains the divination symbol to a patron, her smile warm and amiable.

She exudes an aura which makes whatever she says very believable.

Just as my anticipation is hooked, Gavin stifles it with his words.

Gavin: But it definitely isn’t related to precognition.

MC: I see...

When Gavin sees that my anticipation has dampened, he pushes a blueberry cake in front of me.

Gavin: Don’t feel disappointed yet. Divination has never needed to rely on Evol. You’ll know if it’s accurate after giving it a try.

He digs a small piece of cake with a spoon, then brings it over to me. Munching on it, my eyes widen as I look at him.

MC: Incredibly! Delicious!

The cake exceeded my expectations. Thinking that the coffee might be pretty good too, I quickly lift the cup of coffee from the table.

In the meantime, Gavin picks up the explanatory card the manager had just brought over, and starts reading from it.

Gavin: It says that once you’ve finished drinking the coffee, you have to press the bell to call for the manager. The manager will obtain the divination results after observing the shape of the coffee sediments. 

Gavin: Before the divination, you could think of the contents of the divination first.

Gavin: If you have a ring or another token, you could prepare it beforehand. Place it at the bottom of the cup afterwards to increase the effectiveness.

After reading this, he rests his chin against his hand while chuckling softly.

Gavin: It’s almost the same as the tarot cards we tried the last time.

I take the explanatory card from him. Opening it up, I give it a sweeping glance.

MC: ...so it’s tasseography. I did research on it when we were playing with tarot cards the last time. Afterwards, I realised how complicated it is to interpret the divination results, so I gave up on learning it.

Finishing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, I press the copper bell at the corner of the table.

Upon hearing the bell, the manager looks up and shoots me a smile while washing a coffee cup. After wiping her hands, she walks over to us.

Manager: Are the both of you done with your coffee?

Seeing me nod in anticipation, she picks up the serving tray on the table, placing it next to the coffee cup.

Manager: May I know how I should address you?

MC: MC.

Manager: MC, lift the coffee cup and sway it gently while contemplating on your divination question. Once you’re done, place the cup upside down onto the tray.

I follow her instructions.

After a short while, she uncovers the cup, displaying the shape of the coffee sediments inside it.

Manager: Based on the results, you seem to have been going through a rough time lately, and your mood hasn’t been great. Is this correct?

MC: !!!

I immediately look at Gavin, thinking that this is far too accurate.

The manager seems to detect an affirmation from my expression. She sets down the coffee cup, then retrieves two wrapped chocolate cookies from her apron.

Manager: I made them this afternoon, and they’re for you. Based on the shape of the coffee sediments, although you might have experienced some rough moments recently, all the unhappy moments have already passed. Over the next few days, you’ll receive good news in succession, and you’ll be happier.

While saying this, she leans over, her slightly curled hair exuding a floral fragrance which refreshes the soul, causing me to be left in a mild daze.

Gavin suddenly speaks up.

Gavin: You’re using Evol.

The manager pauses in fright. For a moment, she’s at a loss, and has no choice but to bow slightly with her hands by her side.

Manager: I’m sorry, have I offended the both of you?

Seeing her frantic expression, I hurriedly shake my head.

MC: I-it’s fine... we don’t discriminate against Evolvers. And I’m sure you didn’t have malicious intentions.

The manager’s shoulders slump in resignation, admitting her “little magic” to us candidly.

Manager: ...I just wanted to send a flower into your memories.

MC: Send a flower?

Seeing that I didn’t understand what she meant, she explains patently.

Manager: Sorry, that’s a phrase I use in the shop.

Manager: Through tasseography, I can truly tell that you haven’t been in a good mood recently. But it’s very difficult to change your future fortune. 

Manager: In order to lift the spirits of patrons who do divinations, I use my Evol to alter their memories slightly.

Manager: However, my Evol has its limits. The only thing I can do is add something small that’s worthwhile of happiness into their unhappy memories, such as a flower. 

Manager: Are you willing to give it a try?

Considering how frank she is, I can’t find a reason to refuse. Furthermore, no incidents will occur with Gavin around.

MC: Mm...

The manager’s hand gently glides across me. Although I feel as though nothing happened, she signals that she’s done. Gavin stares at me curiously.

Gavin: Are there any changes to your memories?

I inexplicably recall the time when I fell off the bicycle, and images beginning from the moment I fell surface in my mind -

The path in front of me is tilted, and I can’t control my plummet towards my left side. 

These images are exactly the same as what actually happened, but in the very last snippet -

In an unremarkable corner of the crosswalk, a blue wild flower sways along with the breeze.

MC: A flower? There’s really a flower!

For some reason, seeing this flower enveloped in sunlight causes my emotions to become much more composed, reducing the annoyance I felt about the fall.

The manager releases a joyful sigh, then continues her soft explanation on why she does such things.

Manager: People often have a deep impression of negative things, while happy moments are fleeting. Unhappy memories linger much longer in memories.

Manager: So I thought - if I could add an element of happiness into the unhappy memories of patrons, such as a flower, or a ray of sunlight...

Manager: Their unhappy memories may become a little brighter. On a subconscious level, their mood would naturally become better.

Manager: With a good mood to lift them up, they’d focus on the positive aspect of things the next time they face something else. That’s why they’d find that their fortunes have truly turned for the better.

After saying this, the manager looks at the both of us before apologising again softly.

Manager: Even though I use Evol on patrons, I don’t have malicious intentions. Could you be magnanimous and not report me?

I toss a glance at Gavin, hoping that the Captain would close an eye this time.

After pondering for a moment, Gavin nods calmly at the manager.

Gavin: I won’t report you, but don’t use Evol on patrons in the future.

He looks at me from the side, then reaches out to grab a tissue before wiping it gently against the corner of my lips. Lowering my head, I spot blueberry coloured cream on the white tissue.

Gavin: I believe that your coffee and snacks are enough to bring patrons happiness.

The manager grabs my hand in relief, thanking me repeatedly.

Manager: Thank you both for liking my coffee and cakes. I’ll give another present to the both of you.

-

By the time we leave the café, it’s still early. Gavin and I aren’t in a hurry to go back. Holding hands, we take a stroll beneath the shade of trees.

We can’t help but bring up what happened in the café earlier.

MC: It turns out that it’s so simple to change one’s mood. Adding an element of happiness into unhappy memories is enough.

Surrounded by the chirping of cicadas, even Gavin’s voice reveals a refreshing and carefree touch of summer.

Seeing his slightly sweat-damped fringe sticking to his temples, I retrieve a tissue from my bag and wipe it for him.

Gavin: I remember that you once mentioned that the secret to maintaining a happy life is to focus on the positive side of things.

While saying this, Gavin takes the tissue in my hand and stores it into his own pocket.  

MC: Mm, that’s right! Actually, such forms of self comfort are pretty effective. 

MC: Even though I fell while riding a bike, I told myself that it was fortunate that it wasn’t anything more than a fall. 

MC: When the water supply was cut while I was showering, it only happened because I didn’t pay attention to the announcement by the property management... 

MC: I’d just learn from this experience and check the announcement board more often. 

MC: Also, the flights were delayed due to torrential rain. It was an objective reason, and nobody could have expected it.

MC: A lady from the airline company even gave me orange juice and a small gift.

Gavin chuckles leisurely, meeting my gaze from the corner of his eyes.

Gavin: Many things may not have happened according to how you wished over the short span of a week. Immersing yourself in the state of mind that everything wouldn’t go smoothly made you forget to look at the positive side of everything.

MC: Mm, but I can’t help it... Maintaining an optimistic outlook is really difficult. It’s inevitable to feel discouraged.

While saying this, I tighten my grip on his hand.

MC: But now, I know that if I face any unhappy moments in the future, I just have to search for a flower.

Gavin stops in his footsteps, lowering his eyes and giving me a smile.

Gavin: Have you thought of a new method to cheer yourself up?

I release a matter-of-fact “mm”. Pulling his collar, I give him a gentle peck on the chin.

MC: Whenever I face an unlucky incident, all I have to do is tell you immediately, and I’d immediately be comforted by you... 

MC: That way, I’d no longer be unhappy.

Gavin is taken aback momentarily. Then, he smiles faintly while looking at me.

MC: Whether it’s a fall or a delayed flight... The moment I share these things with you, the moodiness in my heart vanishes like smoke. The reason why I specially complained to you today was just to play coy.

I draw closer to him, swinging our interlaced hands.

MC: In the café earlier, I didn’t take the crystal bracelet she offered to change my fortune for the better... 

MC: I already have a bracelet which can bring me the greatest luck in the world.

I lower my head. Fragments of sunlight fall onto the ginkgo bracelet, refracting resplendent and exquisite faint light.

MC: This ginkgo leaf makes me happier than any other flower. No matter when, simply looking at it lifts my mood instantly.

Gavin doesn't release my hand. Instead, he pulls my hand to his back, bringing me into his arms gently.

The verdant trees and chirping of cicadas intertwine. The clean fragrance of shower gel from the side of his neck causes me to wrap my arms around him tightly.

Gavin: I knew that you were playing coy. Trivial matters have never influenced your mood. You’re always very good at comforting yourself and seeing the positive side of everything. But the bracelet alone isn’t enough. The next time you come looking for me, I’ll definitely do something that’d make you even happier.

After saying this, he can’t help but release a resigned chuckle.

Gavin: ...even though I haven’t thought of what I’d do.

I burst into a chuckle, then bury my head into his embrace completely.

Gavin: But there will definitely be things that I can do to add an element of happiness into your unhappy memories.

Dense green hues and shadows fall on his shoulders. Lifting my head, I see faint light riding the wind through crevices of large clouds in the faraway sky.

Leisurely and carefree ants pass by the slabstone road, winding around a fallen green leaf, and I can’t tell if they’re taking a stroll or scavenging for food.

Summer is flourishing, and this moment is incomparably tranquil.

My heart is filled to the brim with contentedness and happiness. Even my tone is relaxed and at ease.

MC: Gavin, you have to promise me one thing. If you’re unhappy about something in the future, you have to tell me about it immediately, okay? I can add many, many elements of happiness into your memories so that you wouldn’t even have half a second of unhappiness. I can guarantee that.

I lift my head to look at Gavin. With our close proximity, I can see his amber eyes reflecting large swathes of lush branches and leaves belonging exclusively to midsummer.

The gentleness flowing from these eyes aren’t stingy at all as they land on my face.

MC: We have to be the ever-fresh and blooming flowers in each of our memories, forever swaying in the wind.

Gavin releases a soft “okay”. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tightening his grip around my waist.

He murmurs at my ear.

Gavin: There’s no need for a guarantee. Your existence has always been the most brightly-coloured flower in my memories.

[ MOMENTS ]

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: In order to clear the existing stock in the fridge, it’s time to have supper!

Gavin: Pick between mala crayfish and barbecue?

-

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Soda is always the best!

Gavin: Although that’s true, it’s best to drink fewer cold beverages.

-

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Pick between white peach and tangerine!

Gavin: I’ll pick the one you like less.

☕ Call: here

☕ Support the café (not the one mentioned in the date) by dropping by the tip jar!