#but her daughter has bright red hair and its the cutest thing in the world

[justalittletomato]

Ok so I need more information on little Helios! Is he a little adventurer, or a bookworm? Is he force sensitive? What was it like being introduced to the family? Was Selene excited about her cousin?

- Alrighty as I just recently created him we are getting little bits of info

Helios is 3 years younger than Selene for starters.

His name means Sun which is a little joke on its own. (Selene- moon...) 

As the little cousin Selene is dragging little Helios on her adventures. 

Like Selene he is force sensitive and always seems want to know what he can do.

He’s a bit daring as a result but that’s a bit later on.

As for introductions...well Starlight is the first person who gets to hold him.  Starlight and Aster’s love are there at Aster’s side as she brings her baby into the world. He’s precious and small and has his mother’s pretty brown eyes and is the same brilliant red. Starlight has loved him prior as soon as she learned the news. But now...oh Star’s this baby is oh so precious especially as Aster immediately cires to hold him. Starlight places the baby in her daughter’s arms and strokes Aster’s hair. Her baby is perfect just like her.

Aster is so in love with the bundle in her arms, he has her eyes and is as red as her. He’s beautiful and hers. 4 little horns close together and soft cheeks. 

he makes a soft little sound as Aster kisses his face. He’s warm and bright...her son...her little sun...her Helios. she purrs feeling such joy and more so as her love kisses her gently and gently strokes the babies cheek. Her baby...Helios is her baby. 

Angel is helping Aster as well and gets to hold little Helios, oh he’s a darling little thing. Chubby cheeks and big brown eyes. She can’t wait for her own grandbabies..theres a pair on the way ( this will be later as I have to think more about them)  She congratulates the young parents as Starlight goes to get Maul. 

Maul is currently holding little Selene who wonders if her little cousin will look like her. “ He’s here.” little Selene looks at her grandbuir and grandpa with a big smile and is off to tell everyone else but for now Maul must say hello for her. 

Aster will smile at her father and presents her little baby. “He looks a bit like you...he has brown eyes like you once did.” Maul is in awe at the sight of his Aster and her son....his grandson. He’ll kiss Aster’s forehead in congrats and also just to thank the stars that she was safe..safe and now about to raise a wonderful little child. 

Aster can tell he wants to hold the baby, of course she will place the bundle in his arms, “Helios. This is your grandfather Maul, he’s going to teach you quite a few things and love you so much more than anything else.” Maul smiles at Aster and swears he will. He must this is his Aster’s baby. 

Cress is next and is just grinning and asking Aster how she feels about the baby, Aster like her brother feels like she is being held in place by her little Sun. Cress smiles, it takes time to get used to that. Helios is in good hands 

Selene watches the little baby with interest. He is quite cute and makes funny little faces. He is going to be her best friend! She gives little Helios a big kiss to the cheek and promises him fun games when he’s bigger. 

Leta congratulates Aster and Helios is adorable . and goodness seeing that little baby? Okay maybe it would be time to consider giving Selene a sibling...Cress would more than happily agree...

Danica is ready and bringing in baby books and even her own stories about their family. This little one is going to learn it all and overall Danica is just kissing the babies cheeks and just in love with him! The cutest little baby in the galaxy!  ( Selene is a tad jealous) 

Ares is asking to hold the baby he needs the practice with his own little ones on the way. He may know all about babies but he also knows nothing about babies...is he holding him right???? 

Eris laughs at the little bubbles Helios makes and promises that kid is going to learn all they can from Aunt Eris. 

Feral is just grinning and adores his little nephew, so cute and tiny. Sadly cant give him snacks but soon Feral can help teach him some fighting skills. 

Savage is excited at his grand nephew and a tad jealous that Maul already has two grandchildren...well jokes on Maul Savage is getting two grandbabies at the same time. Ares’s partner is expecting twins! He’s in awe at just how fortunate he and his brother are...grandchildren...

@hannagoldworthy @any59 @literatureandqueen @dvthomir @apocalypticwafflekitten @vinciwolf @mother-0f-monsters

[vikingknight90]

(Had to reupload this as something went wrong previously.)

How did Moroha get her ribbon? Inspired by a lovely fanart I had to put this into words. If this isn’t close to how she actually got it, I’ll be rather disappointed with Sunrise, haha.

I hope you enjoy ~

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   Kagome finished putting the laundry over a rope tied between two aspen trees rustling in the early spring wind. She closed her eyes and drew the wonderful scent of washed fabric blended with the fragrance of newly sprouted poppies and bluebells by her feet, greeting her before they did anyone else on that humid day where the sun’s rays had been gently caressing them for an hour or so. The miko straightened the last, honey colored sheet in her hands to rid it of wrinkles and was about to bend down for her basket when the sound of soft crying reached her ears. Moroha?! Kagome nearly stumbled over her basket at the noise and hurried towards her and Inuyasha’s hut where the sound seemed to originate from somewhere behind it. Moroha had eagerly wandered out to play along with Kagome heading out with the laundry, and she had let her. Kagome’s heart swelled at the little bundle of energy Moroha already were at barely four years old, and figured there was no stopping her heading out around their hut to explore and be a child, what would be the harm. But now she cursed herself. Moroha had gotten hurt. She must have fell, hurt her knee, bumped her head or been bitten by some big feudal era bug or something. What if she was bleeding? Kagome’s steps hastened as the sniffling becoming louder, and prepared herself for the worst when she rounded the corner to where her daughter’s distress was coming from. The sight that met Kagome, however, confused her so much she almost forgot to feel relieved.

Moroha didn’t seem to be hurt. Not physically anyway. She was sitting on the ground, her back towards Kagome, and holding something in her hands Kagome soon realized was a mirror. She stood still for a moment and observed as Moroha plucked at her hair that mirrored her own dark color, pulling chunks in the air, then patting them down again, with a body language Kagome saw was clearly upset. Another quiet sob from her daughter’s mouth snapped her out of her staring bewilderment.  

“Moroha?”

The young girl jolted and nearly dropped the mirror as she turned towards her mom. Her dark brown eyes that also mirrored Kagome’s had tears in their corners. Her chubby cheeks were red and puffed, giving away how she’d wiped and rubbed them. Kagome felt as if her heart would burst at how sad Moroha looked right then, but simultaneously the cutest she had seen with her daughter’s big round eyes clearly looking to her for comfort.

“Moroha! Darling, what’s the matter?” Kagome hurried over and picked Moroha up, snuggled her face against hers and used the sleeve of her miko dress to wipe another tear rolling from the young child’s eyes.

“Mommy, I’m…” Moroha sniveled and responded to the comforting embrace by leaning against her mother’s chest and clutching at her dress. “Shhh, my baby. Just tell me what it is.” Kagome leaned her cheek against Moroha’s head and used her fingers to tuck some ebony strains behind her ears. “Mommy… how come… how come I don’t have ears like daddy?” “What??” Kagome wasn’t sure she had just heard right. She shifted Moroha in her arms to look her in the eyes, a smile she couldn’t help appeared on her face, though by the look in Moroha’s face, it wasn’t the reaction she wanted. “What did you just say, sweetie?” Kagome had to hear it again, she couldn’t quite believe it.

Moroha pouted and avoided her mother’s bewildered gaze. “Daddy has such cool ears… why don’t I have them? I have really dumb ears.” “Moroha...” Kagome couldn’t help that a laugh escaped her lips at the end of her name, and she hugged her daughter tightly at the revelation of her so-called distress. She suddenly realized why Moroha had been pulling her hair in apparent triangular shapes in front of the mirror. Had she been trying to make her hair look like Inuyasha’s ears?

“My sweet little girl, is that why you’ve been crying?” Kagome giggled into her daughter’s hair and Moroha squirmed in her hold.

“It’s not funny, mommy!”

Kagome heard her daughter’s still tear-ridden voice and suppressed her laugh, realizing this really was serious for Moroha.

Of all the things I worried my daughter would cry about, this was not one of them.

Kagome sighed and kissed Moroha’s forehead before she put her down and leaned on her knees in front of her, meeting Moroha’s eyes that were still shining from tears and an adorable annoyed look on her face. “Sweetie, your ears aren’t dumb. You have the same ears as me, didn’t you know? You have your mother’s ears.” Kagome smiled and tucked her hair behind her right ear to show Moroha, wondering if her daughter somehow hadn’t realized that before.

But Moroha only pouted further and stared at the ground.

“I don’t care. I want daddy’s ears.”

Kagome saw Moroha’s expression grow more defiant, and she sighed and leaned her head in her hand, wondering how long this would be a thing.

What do I tell her? There isn’t really a nice way to say that it’s impossible for her to have ears like Inuyasha, not when she wasn’t born with them. 

A thought struck Kagome that had her mind temporarily be distracted from her daughter. If she were to have… more children with Inuyasha, would one of them eventually be born with his ears? She tried to picture a baby in her lap with adorable little dog ears peeking out of his or her hair, and giggled fondly at the mental image.  

She was brought back to the present however when Moroha saw her humored face, made an angry turn and uttered: “I’m going to my room!” almost too fast for Kagome to reach out and grab her, but she just made it.

“Now hang on, Moroha. Come with mommy instead.” Another idea hit her, and Kagome’s face lit up.

“I might not be able to give you your father’s ears, but I can give you the next best thing.”

“The next… best thing…?” Moroha sniffed and let her mom take her hand and gently lead her into their hut. Kagome sat Moroha at a straw chair and picked up a bigger mirror she’d also brought from her world that she sat in front of her.

“Now just sit here for a minute while mommy goes to get something.”

Kagome bopped Moroha’s nose with her finger at the request and saw that the little girl still was teary eyed, but intrigued. Her eyes shone with wonder now at what her mother meant by this “next best thing”.  

Kagome was hoping. She really liked this idea herself, but she had no idea if Moroha would. She just had to give it a try.

   Pushing apart the straw door to the part of the hut where she and Inuyasha slept, Kagome went to the corner were some boxes of various contents were stocked, many with more stuff and remnants from her own world that she had periodically brought over in her time travels. The miko pulled out one at the bottom, the layer of dust covering the lid revealing how it was probably years since it was last opened.

She drew a deep breath and pulled the lid off, and a rush of nostalgia engulfed and warmed her as she looked down at her old school uniform. The white and green fabric complimented by a red ribbon by the neck piece brought back memories of her family, her old home, and she had to swallow some tears building in her throat while she gently stroked her hand over the outfit she had once worn every day to this era, and now it had been years since. She was older now, and a mother. Kagome wondered if she could even fit into the old teenage outfit anymore if she wanted to. A solemn laugh escaped her lips at the thought.

Mom. Grandpa. Sota. Buyo. I hope you’re all doing alright.

Kagome ended up staring at the uniform longer than she had intended when she heard Moroha shifting in the chair in the other room and a half curios-half annoyed “Moommmy” reaching her.

“Be right there.”

Kagome’s eyes went to the ribbon, still a bright red after all these years, exposure to the elements and wear and tear. She reached down and untied it, pulled it out and examined its length and form.

Good, it should do.

  Kagome was nervous when she returned to Moroha, holding the ribbon behind her back. Moroha clearly saw her arms hiding something and a smile finally emerged on the young girl’s face, revealing a tiny fang by the corner of her lips.

“What have you got there, mommy? Show me!”

“Just a minute, Moroha. Turn around and look in the mirror first.”

“Okay!”

Moroha excitedly shouted and turned around, her little arms and legs fidgeting in anticipation as her mom came up behind her with an equally excited smile.

“I’ll be doing something to your hair, okay? Now you close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say so. You got that?” Kagome inquired while still keeping her arms behind her, giving Moroha a mock-stern expression in the mirror.

“Aww, really mommy? How long do I have to close them?”

“Till I’m done with what I’m gonna do. It’ll only take a minute, two tops. I promise.”

Moroha’s face became a pout again, but then she saw her mother’s expression become a playfully pleading one in the mirror. It made Moroha realize she wanted to be a good girl right then and listen to her mom. So she closed her eyes and barely contained a squeal when Kagome’s hands gently pulled at her hair and did something that Moroha couldn’t figure out. It involved tying her hair up, she found that out soon enough, but how would that give her her father’s ears? Moroha’s heart dropped a little. What if mommy couldn’t keep what she had told her?

About two minutes passed of her mom pulling and twirling her hair before she finally said the words. “Alright, open your eyes!”

Moroha opened one eye first, nervous for what she would see. Her other eye flew open a second later. Her jaw dropped. Kagome put her fingers to her lips as she smiled in anticipation for what Moroha would think. She didn’t have to wait long as a giant smile soon spread on Moroha’s face, revealing both her fangs. Her eyes sparkled and she leaned towards the mirror while her hands reached up and petted the red ribbon sticking out of her hair, emulating two distinct triangular shapes.

“Mommy… ! I look… I look like daddy!”

Moroha squealed and jumped to her feet on the chair, nearly toppling over so Kagome reached out in case she’d fall, but Moroha didn’t even notice. Her attention was entirely elsewhere.

“Ears! Ears like daddy’s! I have ears like daddy’s!”

She squealed again and finally turned around, jumping into her mother’s arms who barely got to brace herself and caught her with a groan followed by a laugh.

“You like it, sweetie? Your daddy’s ears are made from a ribbon your mommy used to wear all the time while I was younger. So you take good care of it, okay?”

“I will!” Moroha sang in Kagome’s arms and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and cuddled against her neck while she let out an adorably, bubbly laugh that made Kagome’s heart swell and she embraced her daughter back, planting kisses on her dark locks and feeling the ribbon tickling her cheeks as Moroha kept giggling and nuzzling her collarbone.

  A sound of rustling and footsteps from the outside reached Kagome’s ears, and she let out a playful gasp against Moroha’s head, before she whispered “Did you hear that? Sounds like daddy’s home.”

Moroha could barely be contained anymore as her face lit up like the sun and she wriggled in Kagome’s arms to be put down. Her little feet took off towards the straw door as soon they touched the ground and Kagome followed. She had to see this. 

“Daddy!”

“Moroha?”

Inuyasha hadn’t expected to see his daughter come running towards him at such a speed and bent down to open his arms for her, not really noticing the ribbon at first but the ecstatic expression on his little girl’s face.

“What have got you so excited?” Inuyasha couldn’t help a tiny chuckle as Moroha reached him and jumped to his arms, a blush on her face from the joy of seeing her dad again and be lifted in the air by him, and she giggled and snuggled into his robe like she had just done her mom. Inuyasha fussed a little at the sudden display of affection that Moroha hadn’t really expressed to this extent before, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t warm his heart to look down at his daughter cuddled into his arms, an adorable smile on her face while she rubbed against his robe. He just now noticed the red ribbon in her hair, and a quick sniff made him realize it was the ribbon of Kagome’s old uniform. Why was Moroha wearing this all of a sudden? The shape it created was initially lost on him.

“What a nice ribbon you got, Moroha. ‘Your mom give it to you?”

Inuyasha looked over at Kagome now who stood by their hut’s entrance and was going to give her a greeting smile, but his face fell into confusion when he saw his wife looking on them with a humored expression. What was up with her?

Moroha jolted at her dad’s question as if she’d almost forgot what had made her so excited. Before Inuyasha got to ask Kagome what was up with the face, Moroha shifted in his arms and beamed up at him.

“I did, daddy. Look!” she reached her chubby arms up and rubbed at the ribbon, her smile once again revealing two tiny fangs.

“I look like daddy now! I have daddy’s ears!”

“Ehh? … you… what??”

Kagome knew it was coming and had tried to suppress it, but her laugh erupted now at the sight of Inuyasha’s utterly dumbfounded face. The hanyo’s jaw dropped as he stared down at his daughter, and only now realized how her ribbon indeed had the same shape and placement as his ears. Before he realized it, a blush was spreading across the dog demon’s face. He made some indistinguishable noises of embarrassment and bent to put Moroha down, but remained on her eye level.

“S… silly girl..!” he sputtered, only to be met by Moroha still tugging at her ribbon and sporting the proudest smile he’d ever seen.

“What’s up with that, Moroha? Why do you want a ribbon to look like my ears?”

Just like Kagome earlier, Inuyasha couldn’t believe he had heard right.

“Why? Because daddy’s ears are the coolest!” Moroha exclaimed while gesturing to the objects in question that started twitching as Inuyasha’s embarrassment grew further. Moroha saw this and laughed heartily and tugged at her ribbon “ears” again to mimic the movement.

“I found her crying earlier, Inuyasha.” Kagome caught his attention as she’d finished laughing and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“She was crying, wishing she had your ears. I had to think of something.”

She smiled empathetically at him to wordlessly communicate how adorable their daughter was, but also hoping he’d take the signal to say something nice to her.

Inuyasha still couldn’t contain his blush, but he sighed at Kagome’s hint and reached out his hands to feel at his daughter’s “dog ears”, making Moroha giggle further, a blush returning on her face as well.

“What a silly girl… you already have cute ears, Moroha. But you’re right, they do look like mine.” Inuyasha saw Moroha’s eyes beam with joy at his words and a silent adoration for him, and he cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but a part of him did feel touched that his daughter wanted to look like the demon part of him to the point she had imitated his ears like this. Not to mention, the ribbon fit Moroha really well too. It only amplified his daughter’s cuteness, even Inuyasha could see that.

  The dog demon peeked over at his wife again to see Kagome giving him a knowing look, as if she knew how touched he felt. He cleared his throat again and shook his head as if it’d rid him of the embarrassment, then lifted Moroha up into his arms again, another squeal from her mouth as he did so.

“Right, my little… “dog eared” girl. How about we go see Miroku and Sango and their kids? They told me they were taking them fishing by the lake today. You might be a little small…” Inuyasha said and lightly tickled Moroha’s belly which resulted in another giggle fit of the small girl, and she grabbed his hand to make him stop and playfully nibbled on it with her fangs.

“… but you like to spend time with Hisui, Kin’u and Gyokuto, don’t you?”

“I do, daddy. We gonna go see them now?” Moroha paused her nibbling at his fingers to ask.

“Well, if you and your mom want to.”

“Sure we do.” Kagome smiled from where she stood and watched as Moroha’s eyes glinted with excitement before she went back to test her fangs on her dad’s hand which finally caused an “Ow!” from Inuyasha and a mock-scolding, a humored smile on his face as he did so that Moroha answered with her own mischievous smile.

    Kagome took in the moment of watching Inuyasha and their daughter embracing and teasing each other, an unspoken and endless love in their eyes for the other, and felt as if her heart would burst. Almost without realizing, she had folded her hands in front of her mouth, her eyes watering at the immense love and gratitude she was feeling at this very moment.   Hands still folded and an almost melancholy feeling hitting her that Kagome tried to ignore, she prayed to whatever God existed that nothing would ever happen to take this happiness away from them.

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 8

now that La Joconde is over, i can give a lot more attention back to Chronicles. i know we’ve been wicked overdue for an update, so thank you so so so much for being patient with me as i’ve been working through it. i really hope you like today’s update, and that you can give it a reblog if you enjoyed it so other people can too 💙🎶💖

boy i sure hope these orders didn’t have one of those “send your cutest delivery boy” requests

i mean, on the one hand, i’m flattered and my boss is absolutely right

but the things you do for Bread, smh.

It was bound to happen, Luka keeps telling himself as he loads up his bike, and as he straps on his helmet, and as he rides over bridges and through busy streets to get his work done. His stomach’s been turning ever since he checked the delivery tickets, and every anxious feeling’s been flitting under his skin, and it was only a matter of time before he’d have to make a delivery to Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s literal, actual, entire house.

(Well. It didn’t actually have one of those “send your cutest delivery boy” requests. But it did ask for him by name. And he’s barely been able to keep still, with his name in her voice buzzing in his head, ever since.)

The other households don’t do much to ease his mind. At best, the rides and the thirty-second interactions numb him, but only for a short moment. Every time he mounts his bike again and pedals away, he’s reminded that he’s one step closer to her place.

It shouldn’t even get to him as much as it does. He’s been doing this job for ages now, in spite of what little upward mobility there is. It gets the bills paid, and he’s good enough at what he does that the place gives him steady hours, and admittedly, it’s nice to peek into the lives of strangers for all thirty of those seconds. The birthday party he’s accidentally interrupted, where he’s suddenly hailed as a hero because he’s got pizza. The post-breakup night in, where a guy he’s never even met sounds like the screeching drag of a bow across a violin bridge. The family who’s too tired to cook because the mother has cancer and the father’s tired of barley soup and pasta and the daughter, who’s still living with her parents in her late twenties because she has to, only just got home from a bit of overtime.

(Most of these are just fancies, of course. He’ll be the first to admit he lets his imagination run away with him sometimes. But he’ll also be the first to say that someone in the world must be living like that. To someone in the world, that has to be real.)

Besides. He’s been to the bakery plenty of times before, knows well enough that the Dupain-Cheng family lives just above it, which is just about as fanciful as he’d expected. He’s spoken to Marinette a handful of times. He’s been on the business end of her witty words, wherever she got them from. Hell, he even gave her the note.

It’s just that… that’s the bakery. Not her house.

He’s never peeked into her story. Never even thought beyond what she’s allowed him to have. And he knows that whatever he sees will be real.

Luka’s mostly running on auto-pilot by the time he makes it to Tom and Sabine’s, and part of him has to wonder if it’s because he’s been at this job for too long, or if he’s been to the bakery too many times for his own good. (Honestly, he’d wager it’s a bit of both.) The bakery is closed for now, so he texts the number on the ticket—maybe Mr. Dupain’s, maybe Marinette’s.

He’s never texted her before. He doesn’t even have her number.

Should he ask for her number?

Would she even want his? Or would she feel like the creep because he’s the one on the clock?

Before he can ask himself any more questions, the light to the bakery turns on, and the front door opens, and the tinkling of the bell grabs his attention. And there’s Marinette, in a camisole and heart-patterned sleep shorts and slippers. And there’s black, and there’s a little lace right on the neckline, and—

And he’s staring.

And she’s starting to blush.

He tries his best to cock his brow, and holds up the delivery box. “You rang?”

God, he wishes that could have come out smoother.

At least Marinette laughs. Even if it might have just been a pity laugh. “Papa,” she says, trading the box and the paper bag for a few bills. “I guess he knew you worked there or something. He, uh… suggested. Very… very firmly. That we order from this place, once he found out we were considering it.”

“We?”

A whistle interrupts them, soft and low and sounding halfway impressed. Luka catches the glint of glasses and a flash of reddish hair as Marinette whips around and hisses, “Would you go upstairs? You’re supposed to be picking a movie!”

“Are you kidding? This is the movie!” The redhead, whoever they are, calls out, but the sound of footsteps receding tells him it isn’t long before they’re in the clear again. Just the two of them, caught in an interaction that probably should have already ended. And he’s stuck wondering if she doesn’t want it to end, either—because maybe they’re not quite in the clear, or at least, she isn’t yet. She’s got a whole best friend upstairs, probably waiting to grill her on every little detail.

(Every little detail of what? It’s just him…)

Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she turns back to him. “Sorry. Best friends, right?”

Luka manages a shrug and a weak laugh of his own. He doesn’t much feel like talking about how his best friends are his literal blood and the thing almost constantly strapped to his back. And that most of the people who approximate friendship are on the other side of a screen and will probably never see him in real life, whatever that is. “How long have you known her?”

“Long time. Since she moved here from Martinique. We were basically attached at the hip in like, middle school.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot; to Luka, it doesn’t go unnoticed. “It’s hard for us to meet up anymore—travel journalism, studying abroad, all that stuff. We only really get to FaceTime these days. Other than that… it has its hiccups here and there, but I love her. You know? And sometimes she can be a little, uh… overzealous? In what she does?”

“I heard that!” a voice comes from the stairwell.

Marinette doesn’t even have to turn and glare for the rest of the footsteps to fall away. “Sorry,” she mumbles again. “You didn’t exactly come here to hear chunks of my life story, did you.”

“I don’t mind your life story,” he says, thumbing through the bills to count them. “With a job like this, I get to carry a little bit of everybody with me, and hearing about your best friend beats the eightieth guy trying to tell me about his divorce and how women are just trying to suck us dry.” Then his brow furrows, in spite of his own sarcasm, and he looks up. “You gave me extra. Like, way extra.”

“Oh, uh…” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yeah, I guess that’s a habit I picked up. Tipping is a thing in the States. People think you’re a jerk if you don’t do it, so my brain sort of… went on autopilot.” She rubs the back of her neck, maybe out of modesty, and Luka can’t tell if it’s because of the amount of money she gave him, or because of the experiences she’s had.

“Well…” He counts out the extra bills. “Here, you should take these back, then—”

“No, no.” She shakes her head, gestures as if to push the money back towards him. “Don’t worry about it. Keep it.”

“As what? A souvenir from New York?”

Marinette grins. It’s slow, and lazy, and it might make his heart thud in his chest at a hundred kilometers an hour, and he’s definitely thinking, don’t look at the lace, do NOT look at the lace. “Think of it as me making up for all the times I could’ve let you have a napoleon on the house, but didn’t.”

Luka blinks at her a couple of times. More than a couple of times. Too many words are bubbling in his throat and behind his teeth, desperate to get out, but his brain can’t catch up with any of them, and he doesn’t even know what order to put them in besides. Part of him wants to figure out something smooth to say, part of him wants to laugh like an idiot and thank her, and part of him wants to take the worst leap possible and ask what she’s doing on Saturday. But before he can prioritize any of them and put his dignity even more at risk, a holler comes from upstairs—”Marinette!”—and he jolts back in attention. He crumples the money in his fists and swallows his heart back down into his chest, and if he looks closely, Marinette’s cheeks are turning bright red, and her teeth are sinking into her lip as if… holding something back.

“I better go,” she says, nodding toward the stairs and taking a step back. She’s standing on the sides of her feet, and it’s honestly adorable. “Keep the change. I mean it, okay?”

Luka wants to protest—wants to say something about how his mother always told him never to take a single euro he didn’t honestly work for. Instead, he crumples the money in his fist, nods dumbly, and pockets it. “Hey,” he says, just as he senses she’s about to turn on her heel and speedwalk back up the stairs.

Marinette looks at him, and in the moment he gets that bubbling-word feeling in the back of his throat again. At least the mortifying thought of asking her out has died down, but it’s been replaced with something worse: the reminder that, for some reason, she and his sister know each other. Is it weird? he wants to ask. Are you sure it’s not weird seeing me? Is there something going on? Did Jules do something to you? Did you do something to her? Are you mad that I didn’t say anything? Are you okay?

Are you okay, Marinette?

Instead, he clears the words out of his throat, and shakes his head, and he hopes Marinette isn’t running a million worst-case scenarios in her head the way he does when someone looks or sounds even mildly displeased. He hopes she isn’t blaming herself the way he does when someone looks like they have something to tell him and then… don’t. “Next time I swing by,” he says, “will that napoleon be on the house?”

Her expression doesn’t take very long to go soft, even though her grip on the delivery box tightens. “Who knows?” she murmurs, and it’s… strange, how the tongue-in-cheek traces in her voice comfort him more than they put him on edge. “Guess you’ll just have to come back and find out.”

Then she turns on her heel, nearly bumps into the counter on her way to the stairs, and—and she really does spare him one more glance, the kind that says she’d wave good night if her hands weren’t full. Without much thinking, he does the waving for both of them, with a smile he knows is nervous and crooked spreading across his face. And then he’s the one to bump backwards into the door, the bell above giggling and announcing his clumsiness, before he stumbles to his bike and speeds away. He knows better than to text and bike, even if he could brag that sometimes he’s halfway decent at it, but at least he waits until he gets to the Canal Saint-Martin so he can have that silent-screaming moment alone.

so not only did I get that bread today, i got a whole fuckin sandwich. if we’re going by that whole metaphor i mean.

speaking of figurative language, you know, that thing i never thought i’d use once i graduated from high school… dear CBG: when i told you i hope you found all that money on the ground, i didn’t mean GIVE IT TO ME.

[kookitykook]

Airport Stranger (Jin x Reader)

~genre: fluff, sfw 

~word count: 4.7k 

~summary: Your flight home for Thanksgiving has been delayed for the umpteenth time, prompting quite the embarrassing call from your mother in the airport waiting area. Lucky for you, the man sitting next to you thinks it's hilarious. And lucky for him, you think his laugh is adorable. Airport hijinks and off-the-chart levels of dorkiness ensue.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah I know, Mom. I know, alright? But there’s literally nothing I can do about a delayed flight, alright?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose in between your thumb and forefinger, you let out a long-suffering sigh that you had been saving up for Thanksgiving dinner with your family. Alas, the suffering decided to come early this year. 

“Look, unless they delay again, I should be boarding in about fifteen minutes. That’ll have me landing around midnight. Can you still pick me up or … ah, that’s what I thought. No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just get a cab. … Mom, I’ll be fine. … No I don’t have a taser or pepper spray, I can’t just put that stuff in my carry on!” 

Suddenly there was a sharp laugh from the guy sitting beside you. You whipped her head to look at him just one seat over. He had the audacity to look right at you as he chuckled, making it obvious he was laughing at your predicament. 

Feeling your cheeks reddening, you covered your face with one hand, shifting in the uncomfortable waiting area seat so that your back was to the man you hadn’t bothered to look at too closely beyond his amused expression. 

“Mom, I’ve gotta go,” you whispered. “Look I’ll text you when I get in the cab, and I know where the spare key is so I’ll just — no, Mom, nobody is going to follow me to our house for the sake of stealing our spare key! And it’s not like underneath the creepy gnome on the front porch is exactly a prime hiding place!” 

At that, the man that was laughing before started to laugh even harder, and you couldn’t help but shift to get a good look at him. He was practically cackling at the one-sided conversation he was hearing, and his windshield-wiper sounding laugh was attracting more attention from the other delayed passengers. He caught your eye and then, like an old man despite the fact that he looked around her age, he literally slapped his knee in amusement. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the man even though your overbearing mother was still nagging away on the other end of the line. He was quite tall and slender save for his broad shoulders, which were evident even underneath his large hoody. The hood was pulled up, but you could still see smooth, shiny black hair peeking out. The two of you oddly matched, both wearing comfortable outfits — him with his red hoody and joggers, and you with leggings and an oversized maroon sweater from your college days. 

The shouting of your name pulled your from your shameless staring and smiling at your laughing neighbor. You couldn’t help but jump in your seat as your mother’s shriek reached quite the high decibel. 

“Yeah, yes, Mom I’m still listening. Look I have to go now, I’ll text you when I land, but for now I’m going on airplane mode, bye!” Your last words were hurried, ignoring your mother’s objections and pressing the bright red ‘end call’ button — your favorite button, truly — and quickly switching your phone to airplane mode before receiving an angry return call. 

At this point, the man’s laughter had quieted down and the other irritated, delayed passengers in the waiting area had looked away from his outburst, but he was still looking at you with an amused grin. 

Woah, nice smile, you thought to yourself, taking in the twinkling in his eyes and his annoyingly perfect teeth. 

“I’ll have you know,” the man said suddenly, making your eyes widen at his boldness to talk to a stranger, “that the last place I would look for someone’s spare key is underneath a creepy gnome.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then you promptly burst into laughter yourself. The man joined you immediately, and you were too tired from all of the travel and your frightening lack of caffeine to care that the two of you were undoubtedly annoying everyone else in the waiting area. 

“For the love of all that is good in the world,” you gasped in between chuckles as you both started to come down from your giggle highs, “don’t ever tell my mother that you approve of one of her crazy ideas.”

“Noted,” the man gasped himself, a hand over his chest as he caught his breath. A few seconds passed and you both smiled at each other once again before he reached out across the empty seat between you. “I’m Jin.”

You accepted his handshake with a smile more genuine than anything you had felt in … far too long. “I’m Y/N. Thanks for the laughs, Jin. That rarely happens after talking with my mother, and it was … definitely needed.”

Jin chuckled softly, nodding in understanding. “I get it. Being with family around the holidays usually ends in laughter or tears, sometimes you just have to go with the former. Especially after a six hour delayed flight.”

“That’s the truth,” you mumbled under your breath, gaining another chuckle from Jin as you rolled your eyes quite dramatically. “I don’t know why I thought traveling the day before Thanksgiving was a good idea, and now here we are.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you were doing your best to avoid any extra time at home, even if it meant risking traveling on one of the worst days of the year?” Jin raised his eyebrow knowingly.

“Alright look here, Mr. Psychic Stranger, I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me. I’m fragile from all of the gnome talk.”

Jin laughed yet again and damn, his laugh was the cutest thing you’d ever heard. 

“Is that why you’re here on hell night?” you asked, eyebrow cocked. 

Jin shook his head, still grinning. “No, I actually had to work up until today, so this was my only option.”

Your eyes widened. “Woah. What do you do?”

“Music production. Well, kind of. I’ve moved from unpaid intern to paid very little intern for a production company, so things are really looking up for me.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners adorably as you barked quite the unattractive laugh at that statement. It was wild how comfortable you felt with this total stranger on what had been undoubtedly one of the worst travel days ever.

“Congratulations,” you finally managed to say, finding yourself leaning over the seat separating them quite a lot. You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter and pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen from your ponytail. Jin’s eyes tracked the movement, something you did not fail to notice. 

“What about you?” Jin asked, his voice kind. “What do you do that I’m sure your mother is very proud of?” 

You did laugh at that, covering your mouth to stifle the sound. “Oh yes, my mother is beyond proud of her barista daughter who has had her life’s work rejected by not one, not two, but three book publishers.”

“You’re a writer?” Jin asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You blinked at his reaction. Did you not just say that you were rejected by three publishers? “Woah, that’s so cool.”

“Uh, I’m trying to be,” you said nervously, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands and piddling with the tattered material. “Like I said, rejected and all that.”

“Well that just means you haven’t found the right publisher yet!” Jin said, and it was the fact that you could literally hear the smile in his voice that you were able to look back over at him. Unlike yourself, Jin was shameless in how much he was leaning towards you, making it quite obvious that he wanted to continue talking. “What’s your book about?”

Oh no. The dreaded question. You hated when people asked this question, it was always so awkward to talk about your work instead of just showing someone. But Jin’s big eyes and pouty lips — still smiling adorably of course — made you think that he was one of those rare, special people that didn’t really deal in awkward situations. 

You smiled, averting your eyes away from his for the briefest second because it was as if his smile was the literal sun or something, when suddenly — 

“Passengers of flight 403 to Newark, we regret to inform you that your flight has been delayed until 10:50 PM. The airline would like to express its sincerest apologies and—”

The rest of the airline worker’s voice was drowned out as the entire waiting area groaned, people fishing out their phones to contact their families yet again. All except you, who was pointedly not calling your mother again, and Jin, who oddly looked … pleased at this turn of events.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, rubbing your tired face and briefly noting in the back of your mind that you probably looked a mess in front of Jin. You hadn’t showered in over twenty-four hours, hadn’t brushed your hair or teeth in about twelve, and you could feel that your pores were practically the size of Jupiter. Jin was a stranger that you would probably never see again, but still … a cute stranger. You pulled your hands away from your oily face to glance over at said stranger. 

He was looking right at you with the dopiest smile. You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“What?” 

Suddenly Jin stood up and woah, he was really tall. You had an inkling too that he was probably quite built underneath his comfy clothes. With a grin, he moved to stand in front of you. His hood had fallen all the way back now, and his hair looked soft and shiny even underneath the terrible airport lights. 

“Come on,” he said brightly, meeting your eyes without any hesitation. “We’ve got another two hours, and I have it on good authority that there is some absolutely terrible free coffee on the other side of the terminal.”

You raised an eyebrow. This whole situation was … new. 

“Why would I want terrible coffee?” you asked, your voice taking on a note of teasing as you crossed your arms and settled further back into your seat. 

“Ah, good question,” he responded with a grin, eyes brighter than a starry sky. “Because terrible coffee is factually proven to be better than no coffee.”

“Factually proven?”

“Yes of course. There was some fancy Ivy League study done on this subject somewhere surely maybe sometime.”

“Somewhere surely maybe sometime?”

“Sí. ”

You broke with that, laughing yet again and covering your face with your hand, sweater sleeve still pulled over your fingertips. When you finally looked back up, Jin was looking down at you with what could only be described as the most smitten expression. 

“Not to mention,” Jin continued, “the walk to this terrible wonderful coffee will give you the chance to tell me all about your book.”

You chewed absentmindedly on your bottom lip, noting in the back of your mind that your lips were quite obviously chapped. 

Jin looked so … genuine. That was the only word you could think to describe him as. Genuine. He really wanted to hear about your book, and get terrible coffee with you when you were just a stranger that he overheard having an embarrassing conversation with their mother. 

With a huff and a grin, you stood to your full height, ignoring your popping knees in favor of staring at Jin’s full lips smiling impossibly wider.

“Alright then, Kind Stranger Jin,” you said as you swung your backpack over your shoulders. “Let’s go.”

**

An hour and a half later, you knew you were in deep trouble. In the back of your mind, you had been somewhat hoping that Jin would turn out to be kind of creepy or awkward or weird so that you would have an easier time not falling for the stranger. But no, he had to go and be … well, practically perfect.

Not actually perfect, of course. Jin laughed way too loud and did not care at all about disturbing anyone else with said laugh. He was clumsy, and tripped three times just walking across the terminal. He had terrible taste in coffee and made slurping noises when he drank. So definitely not perfect. 

But also … he was perfect. Kind, attentive, well-spoken, and hands down the funniest person you had ever met. He listened to a bare-bones description of your book with not a trace of judgment, and he even asked good questions about the characters you loved so much. He listened to you vent about your mother and made good-natured jokes to soothe your stress without being insensitive. 

He was damn perfect and quite frankly it was pissing you off because you were never going to see him again once you each went your own ways after the flight. This wasn’t a Hallmark movie. 

The two of you were making your way back across to the terminal where you would hopefully, finally be boarding in half an hour when Jin sighed quite dramatically all of a sudden, making you chuckle and a few passerby look at you oddly. You found yourself adopting Jin’s attitude and not caring at all. 

“What was that sigh for?” You asked, nudging his arm with her shoulder — he was so tall compared to you. 

“I hope we get delayed again.”

You practically guffawed at that, almost tripping yourself when you looked up at him in disbelief. 

“What?” You asked, heart stuttering as he lightly touched your lower back to help steady you. “Don’t speak that into the universe! Besides, I thought you were excited to see your friends!” 

Jin had explained over the terrible coffee that his family was still in Korea and his paid-very-little-internship didn’t exactly allow a budget for traveling to see them for both Thanksgiving and Christmas (and Korean Thanksgiving didn’t even fall at the same time as it did in the States that year anyways), so he was saving that big trip for Christmas. 

Instead, Jin would be spending Thanksgiving with a group of his friends from college. He had described them all in detail quite enthusiastically, but you had already forgotten their names because you might have been too busy staring at his bright smile the entire time he had been talking about them. All you remembered was that one of them had a bunny smile (whatever that means), one would probably be president one day, and one pretended to be grumpy with no soul but was actually quite the opposite. They had all sounded wonderful though, and were all annoyingly attractive in the photo he had shown you on his phone. 

Of course he had cute friends, too. 

“I do want to see my friends,” Jin said quickly. “For sure, they’re my brothers and I miss them, but …”

“But what?” You asked, slowing your stride as your gate came into view. “Don’t tell me. They have a gnome on their front porch, too.”

You expected another loud laugh from Jin at that, but all you got was a low chuckle and him slowing down even more than you had. 

“No, Namjoon has a firm no-gnome policy.” For the first time in the past almost two hours, Jin’s whole self wasn’t in the joke. “I just … I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.” Your heart did an unwelcome flip-flop. “I don’t really want this to end.”

You swallowed and licked your chapped lips, and it was only then that you realized you had come to a complete stop. Your gate was in eyeshot, but you and this former stranger who was now the oddest sort of friend as if you’d known him your entire life, were staring at one another. 

“I don’t either,” you admitted, unable to tear your eyes away from Jin’s. “I … Jin, actually I— oof!”

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry!” 

Jin barely caught you by the arms as a flight attendant ran into you and shoved you forward into him. Your chests were flush against each other and Jin’s hands were quick to keep you upright. 

“Are you alright?” The flight attendant asked you worriedly. “I really am so, so sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” you said with a smile, noting in the back of your mind that Jin was still holding you tightly to him even as you turned your head to the side to address the young woman. “You didn’t mean any harm. Thanksgiving has got to be rough for you guys, it’s really okay.”

The flight attendant released an audible sigh, clearly relieved that she wasn’t about to be yelled at or reported to her airline or something else awful a disgruntled flyer might do. 

“I know I’m not supposed to say this, but … Thanksgiving is the worst,” the attendant simply said. Jin and you both chuckled at that. “I’m really sorry again, I hope you two have a good holiday!” 

With that, the attendant turned on her heel and rushed away. You watched her go with a sad smile, you couldn’t imagine working for an airline on Thanksgiving. 

It was Jin’s hand gently squeezing your arm that had you turning back to him.

Oh, right. Jin is holding me. Sweet Jin that I just met and really like and he seems to like me, too. Right. Right. 

“What were you about to say?” Jin asked softly, his hands still holding you practically flush against him. Your breath caught as his thumbs swept over the sleeve of your sweater, an oddly moving gesture of comfort. 

“I …”

Over your shoulder right at that moment you heard that same flight attendant from before speaking just loud enough to hear. 

“Hi, I’m here to takeover for you guys! … Okay, so twelve economy’s and one premium seat has opened? … Oh, two premium seats, got it. Have you updated the manifest?”

“Y/N?” 

Jin’s voice snapped your attention back to him. You had been staring at his face, but listening to the flight attendant.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jin asked once again, seemingly worried now. 

“I …” He was staring at you expectantly, face starting to fall right as you turned your head to look over your shoulder and — yepp, sure enough, the flight attendant was at your gate. 

With a wicked grin, you spun back around to face Jin so fast he jumped. 

“I have an idea,” you said quickly.

“An idea?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side like the cutest, most confused puppy you had ever seen. “What do you — hey!”

As quick as you could, you grabbed one of Jin’s hands in your own, lacing your fingers together tightly as you pulled him into a run towards the gate desk. 

“Woah, what are you—”

“Hi!” You said brightly, pulling yourself and Jin right up to the gate desk where the flight attendant from before was now standing. The attendant looked up and smiled back when she saw who it was. Not missing a beat, you placed your and Jin’s linked hands in the attendant’s sight. 

“Oh, hello again,” the attendant said. “Are you two on this flight?”

“We are indeed,” you replied, squeezing Jin’s hand as you felt him staring down at you in confusion. “My fiancee and I have been here all night with these delays trying to get home for the holidays.”

Jin squeaked and you just pulled him even closer to you, kicking him in the ankle to keep him quiet. 

“Fiancee!” He shouted in affirmation, making the attendant jump and you bite your lip to keep from sighing. “Yepp, fiancee, this is she. I’m quite excited about it, you know I had to ask her twelve times before she said yes.”

The attendant’s eyes bugged out of her head. 

“He’s joking,” you said quickly. “I only turned him down six times.”

“I fail to see why you never count the time I proposed underwater. Just because you got bit by a shark while scuba diving in the Maldives does not make that trip any less romantic!”

This guy is an absolute moron, you thought to yourself, trying and failing not to let your laughter show. Fortunately for you and Jin, the flight attendant was laughing outright. 

“You two are adorable!” She said with a bright grin. “I’m so sorry you’ve been delayed as long as you have.”

“Us, too,” you said with a pout. “We understand though, everyone here is just doing their jobs and we respect that. We did want to ask though, do you think we’ll be boarding soon? If we’re going to get delayed again, I would rather just call it quits and book a hotel tonight.”

“Which I wouldn’t be opposed to of course,” Jin said quickly, making you look up at him with a glare. “It’s our anniversary, honeybuns, and we’ve had to spend it in the airport after all.”

Oh you clever idiot, you thought, smiling up at him. 

“Well yes of course, lovebug, but I know you want to get to your sister’s house soon, the baby is due any minute.”

“That’s true, potato wedge, and she did promise that if I was there for the birth she would name my nephew after me.”

In sync, you and Jin both turned to look at the attendant again, who looked more confused than she had probably ever been in her life. You both smiled sweetly. 

“So could you possibly tell us if we’ll actually be boarding this time around?” You asked, giving your most award-winning, prize smile.

“Actually…” the attendant glanced around quickly before leaning in. You and Jin followed suit, shoulders touching. “I just got a call from the pilot, and you all are one-hundred percent boarding in the next ten minutes.”

A breath of pure relief spilled out of you, and it wasn’t for show when you squeezed Jin’s hand tightly. 

“Thank you so much,” you said to the attendant. Then you turned and looked up at Jin, not having to use any of your meager acting skills to look smitten with him. “Just four hours and then we’re home, hotcakes. You’ll have to try and survive not sitting next to me that whole time.”

“You’re not sitting with your fiancee?” The flight attendant asked incredulously. You turned to look at her with big eyes, and you saw Jin pouting dramatically in your periphery. 

“No, we booked these flights last minute and there weren’t any seats together. We tried to upgrade to business class, but it just wasn’t in our budget this year, you know?” 

“That’s because all of the vet bills really piled up this year,” Jin said offhandedly. You pursed your lips together tightly to keep from sighing or laughing — you weren’t sure which. Jin met the attendant’s curious gaze. “Oh, you see our chinchilla Chimmy has cancer. Yepp, in the liver. We think he may have gotten into our alcohol stash one too many times. Alcohol addiction is often hereditary in chinchillas, you know. Chimmy’s father was a deadbeat, so we think that’s where he got it from.”

The attendant blinked while you bit down on your lip so hard it almost hurt. You were falling head over heels for this complete and total moron. 

“Anywho,” Jin continued, looking down at you without breaking character for one single second. “We should leave this kind worker to her duties now, lava lamp. Thank you again, ma’am, and happy Thanksgiving!” 

“You know what,” the attendant suddenly said, calling the two of you back as you started to turn away. “Look, I’m not really supposed to do this, but … you two are a really cute and … eccentric couple, and you were so nice earlier when I ran into you. Two first class seats beside each other just opened up and if you two wanted, I could upgrade you.”

Jin’s expression of surprise was way more believable than yours, but the attendant still beamed at their reactions. 

“Really?” Jin exclaimed. “Wow, that would be so great. I would lose my head if it weren’t for this girl, we would really appreciate that!”

“Yes, thank you so much!” You echoed as the attendant told you and Jin that it was her pleasure and being typing away at her computer. A few seconds passed and then you were being printed new boarding passes. 

“You are the best, Lana,” Jin said, accepting their new passes and reading the attendant’s nametag. “We will be giving you the best review on your company’s website.”

“It’s no problem, really. You guys will be boarding with Zone A in about ten minutes!”

“Thank you!” You said once more, waving at Lana as Jin unlinked your hands so that he could sling his arm over your shoulder and lead you over to a pair of open seats at the very back of the waiting area. 

The two of you sat down and were silent for about three seconds before doubling over in barely contained laughter. You were clutching your stomach as Jin wiped at his eyes, your antics drawing the eyes of everyone else in your section. 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jin gasped. “If she hears us we might get outed!”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, sitting up straight to look at Jin, which only made the pair of you dissolve into even more giggles. 

“Oh … oh my gosh,” you gasped, leaning back in your seat to realize that Jin’s arm was over your shoulders once again. You didn’t mind. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

“You are the most brilliant fiancee in all the land, and that’s a fact.”

“And you!” You poked him in the chest, which he looked positively affronted by. “You’re insane! Bitten by a shark in the Maldives? Chinchilla alcoholism? You called me potato wedge!”

“And lava lamp, don’t forget lava lamp.”

That only had you laughing yet again, your chest practically on fire with glee and affection for this insane man that you met only a couple hours prior.

It was a few seconds later that you realized Jin wasn’t laughing anymore. You looked up, cheeks hurting from smiling so much, to see him looking down at you with an expression that could only be described as fondness and affection. 

“Where have you been all my life?” he murmured softly. 

You stilled. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.”

The air went taut between you, both of your gazes flickering down to the other’s mouth. Just as you started to lean in … 

“Do you think your mom would like me?”

You froze, looking up at Jin in confusion. “Um … you know I’ll be honest, that was not what I was expecting to happen just then.”

“It’s just, you know how I said Namjoon has a strict no-gnome policy? This means that when I get to his house in about five hours, there will be no spare key underneath a porch gnome. And he and the other guys sleep like the dead, so I’ll probably end up sleeping on the gnome-less porch because no one will let me in. And it’s so cold outside and I’m too pretty to get pneumonia, let’s be honest. So really you ought to invite me to your mom’s house tonight and then I will repay you the favor by inviting you over to my buddy’s house for Thanksgiving evening to help you escape. But this all will only work if your mother likes me, so — do you think your mom would like me?”

You were painfully aware that you probably looked like a complete idiot staring up at Jin with your mouth open and eyes drawn together, only inches from his face. You were also painfully aware that he was still looking at you with that smitten expression that you just couldn’t get over.

“Honestly?” You finally said, chuckling and choosing to accept the insanity that was Kim Seokjin. “She’ll adore you.”

“Perfect.”

Before anything else could be said, Jin tilted his head down and pressed his full lips firmly to yours. You positively melted at the contact, sighing into his mouth and relaxing into his hold. 

The kiss didn’t last long, but it was the sweetest either of you had ever had. 

You and Jin breathed each other in, no longer kissing but lips close enough to feel the other smile. 

“Do you think your friends will like me?” You asked, out of breath from sheer proximity to this wonderful man. 

“Oh they’ll probably all fall in love you,” Jin said with a nod, his hands coming up to cradle your cheeks. He kissed you lightly once more. “I have a feeling I’m going to, too.”

“Attention passengers, first class zone A is now boarding, first class zone A is now boarding.”

[chocobonugget]

Fragile Tender Heart

Title: Fragile Tender Heart Rating: T Word Count: 8,061 Summary: Once upon a time, there was a prince with a teddy bear.  And then, there was neither a prince nor a bear.  The story of how a newborn chocobo nugget transforms into a beautiful gentlethem.

-1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

The first time Yuffie holds her baby, she's exhausted, bathed in sweat, but she's still the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen.  She's glowing, eyes bright and mirthful as ever despite their baby's painful, intensely arduous journey into the world.  He smiles at her as the midwife counts the correct number of digits on hands and feet that are so unbelievably tiny and fragile.  Cloud leans over and kisses her forehead, running his fingers through dark hair wet with perspiration, and he mutters something about how proud he is of her, how amazing she is, how much he loves her.

Yuffie just grins as the midwife takes the infant once again, to tend to him and making sure the rest of him is as healthy as his lungs and vocal cords seem to be, and she's clearly delirious with exhaustion when she laughs breathlessly and says, "Cloud, we did it.  We made a chocobo nugget."

-2- "Mama's yukata is pwetty," Yuki says, squirming around in his lap.

"It is," he whispers, tapping at his son's mouth with an index finger, "but we have to be quiet until she finishes her speech.  It's very important, and we don't want her to mess up."

It's not exactly fair to ask a three year old to sit completely still as his mother announces the newly-made agreement between her country and the reformed, rebuilt Shinra Company.  It likely won't go over well, but she is the Empress, Her Imperial Majesty, the Daughter of Leviathan, and her people trust her not to let their home be ravaged by senseless war ever again.  She says as much to them, reminding them that she has been actively in the fray since she was sixteen years old and has aimed to restore her country to its former glory since the war with Shinra ended.  She loves and respects her father, she tells them, but she would rather die than allow her people's culture to be reduced and trivialized, to once again let an oppressor overtake them and turn their precious traditions into a show for tourists.  

She makes a hell of an argument, and Cloud is quite proud of her for acknowledging Wutai's righteous anger at Shinra.  She doesn’t dismiss their obvious concerns about this partnership, and makes a point of assuring them, not only that she feels exactly the same, but also that she knows Rufus Shinra personally and can tell when he’s lying.  She tells them all the ways how she knows that he is serious about making peace between their two groups.  

(In another life, she once told him, she might have married him to establish this same bond with her people, and can you even imagine that, Cloud, how gross would that be, he's like, a million years old, eww.)

Near the end of her speech, she very casually says, "If Rufus violates our agreement, I reserve the right, in addition to enacting the fines and sanctions and other political punishments that I’ve already talked about, to cut his dick off—like, the whole entire thing!—and shove it down his throat."  And how can anyone can doubt her sincerity when she adds, "And then, I dunno, murder him or whatever"?

Yuki lets out a giggle, because he's never heard his mother threaten to kill anyone outside of a joke before and has no idea that, right now, she is completely serious.  Cloud cannot help but hope that his son does not inherit his mother's sense of humor.  "Daddy," Yuki says in the loud half-whisper so common to children his age, "I wanna be a empwess like Mama someday and wear pwetty yukatas."

Cloud hushes him again.  "You'll be the Emperor when you're all grown up, Yuki, don't worry."

-1.1- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

She's smiling at them as she gingerly lays the infant in Yuffie's arms, obviously proud of both herself and of her patients, and she adds, "He will make a fine Emperor, Lady Yuffie, I can already tell."

"You say that about every baby you deliver, Midori," Yuffie mutters, and Cloud is the tiniest bit impressed that she still has the energy to be sarcastic after the ordeal she's just been through.  "'He will make a fine priest, I can already tell.'  'She will make a fine wife, I can already tell.'  When I was born, you probably told my mother the exact same thing; 'She will make a fine Empress, Lady Kasumi, I can already tell.'"

The midwife grins, a sharp sparkle in her eye, and replies, "I told your honored mother, I said, 'She will be a right terror, this one, I can already tell.'  And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Hey, I didn't turn out so bad!  Helped save the world a few times, made a bunch of good friends, got a crap ton of gil and cool materia.  I even bagged myself a man without anyone's help, thank you very much."

"Well," the midwife murmurs, running her fingers over the few soft, black strands of hair that are already on the baby's head, "let's just hope this son of yours turns out to be more like his father, hmm?"

-3- It's somewhat common, he's been told, for little boys to go through a phase where they want to dress up in their mother's clothes.  So he's not worried when he finds Yuki in their closet, digging past Cloud's pants and shirts to get to his mother's things.

What does worry him is the make-up smeared inexpertly on Yuki's face and hands and how the boy is transferring it to anything close to him at an alarming rate.  Cloud snatches him up and pulls him away from Yuffie's more formal clothing before Yuki can christen it with the dark eyeshadow that makes his wife's eyes shine or the bright red lipstick she wears only when she's angry at or annoyed with her advisers.  The boy protests, letting out a shriek as Cloud methodically cleans him up before he can do anymore damage.  

Yuki squirms in his lap the whole time, small hands pulling at his father's arm and begging him to stop.  "You're ruining our clothes, Yuki; I have to get this stuff off of you."

"No!" he screeches, digging his tiny, sharp nails into the back of Cloud’s hands.  "No, I wanna be pwetty like mama!  Stop it!"

"Boys don't wear make-up, Yuki!" he scolds, and his voice is much louder than he intends it to be. 

And it's so strange because the wriggling mess of a child in his arms immediately goes still.  Yuki looks up at him, and while Cloud takes the lack of movement as an opportunity to finish cleaning the boy up, Yuki murmurs, "But I'm not a boy."

Cloud's immediate response is a distracted, "Of course you are," which causes a round of silence in addition to the stillness.  He manages to wipe off the last vestiges of make-up from the boy’s hands and face, working quickly before his son can start the wiggling and the protesting again.  But Yuki is still quiet when the work is done, and for a long moment, Cloud is haunted by a feeling of dread, knowing it was a mistake to negate his son's feelings right away like that.  He remembers people dismissing how he felt as a child.  He knows exactly how many scars he still carries from being told that how he felt was unimportant or wrong.

It’s important to him that he apologizes for yelling.  He never got that as a child, and he wants things to be different for his son.  He’s not perfect, but he doesn’t have to be.  He just has to be able to admit when he makes mistakes and do better next time.  

Yuki only shrugs, jumping up from his lap and bouncing toward the door.  "You're right, I am a boy."

Okay, wow, big sigh of relief for that.  It doesn't seem like his son is permanently harmed or anything.  He would have to be more careful about controlling his temper in the future, though.  Cloud never wants Yuki to feel like he couldn't talk to him about anything at all whenever he needed to.

"But," his son trills, elongating the vowel in the exact same way his mother does right before she attempts something mischievous, "maybe I'll be a girl tomorrow!"

Cloud shakes his head.  That's all it is, then.  A game.

Nothing to worry about, right? 

-4- The summer after Yuki turns 5, Cloud wins a teddy bear for him at a festival booth.  He calls it Nanko, despite his parents telling him that isn't a real name, and it immediately becomes his favorite toy.  He goes nowhere without it, and he's seen by the public with it so much that the bear soon becomes an unofficial member of the royal family.  That brand and style of teddy bear gains an immense popularity, and Yuffie cracks a joke one evening about her son being a fabulous trendsetter at such a young age.  "Just like his mother," she sighs, dropping a kiss onto Yuki's forehead.

The boy is sleepy, soft and pliable in her arms, and not really paying attention to anything.  He's fighting sleep like it's a master tonberry walking toward him with the intent to kill shining bright in its eyes, and Cloud can't help but smile.  "We should probably put him to bed."

A muffled protest issues from the vague area near Yuffie's lap that his son occupies, but they both dismiss it.  When he's tucked in, Nanko held tight in his arms, the boy is so adorable that Cloud has to take a picture.  He can't not do it.  He's physically incapable of not memorializing this moment in time, of not getting hard proof of how his child is quite possibly the cutest thing to ever exist.

As they are leaving the room, Yuki mumbles, "You didn't say night to Nanko."

"Good night, Nanko," Yuffie murmurs.  

"Daddy too...."

Cloud smiles.  "Good night, Nanko."

More content, his son curls on his side and snuggles into his bed, letting out a soft sigh.  "He says night too."

-1.2- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

Well, she's not technically wrong.

-5- A few days later at breakfast, Yuki says, "Nanko wants to eat chocolate chip pancakes!"

"Well, tell him we're out of pancake mix," Yuffie replies.

"Her."

"Hmm?"

"Nanko wants you to call her 'her'."

"Why?  I thought Nanko was a boy?"

"Nah," Yuki replies, holding the bear out in front of him and considering it very seriously.  "Nanko is a girl today."

-6- "Daddy!  You keep calling Nanko a girl!  Nanko is a boy, and he wants you to talk to him that way!  Why are you being so stupid about this?  When Nanko is a boy, you call him a boy, and when Nanko is a girl, you call her a girl!  Got it?!"

-1.3- "It's a boy," the midwife says triumphantly, the pride of helping to birth her country's next emperor clear on her smiling face.

(If only it were that simple.)

-7- "Don't ever let this thing out of your sight again," he tells Yuffie, presenting the newly-washed teddy bear to his wife.  Yuki lost it two weeks ago, and the level of agitation and worry that the boy has exhibited over the disappearance of his favorite toy is very unsettling.  He's been restless and inattentive, unable to sleep at night, and his emotions have been incredibly volatile.  At times, he's seemed withdrawn, given to very sudden bouts of anger or weeping, but nothing either of them does can console him.  Cloud had nearly been at his wit's end when he happened to catch a glimpse of the distinctive brown and tan plaid ribbon that was tied around the stuffed animal's neck sticking out from beneath a piece of furniture.  

"Absolutely not," she sighs, taking the bear from him.  "Come on, I think we'd better get these two back together as soon as possible.  Not sure I can take another night of having a wiggly chocobo nugget in my bed waking me up with another nightmare."

"I know," Cloud agrees, taking her hand.  "I feel bad that he's so upset, but it's getting exhausting to deal with him."

There's a long period of silence as they walk toward Yuki's suite, and just before they enter the hall that leads to his front room, Yuffie chuckles.  "You wanna take a bet on whether Nanko's a boy or girl today?"

-1.4- "It's a boy," the midwife says with a smile.

-8- When Yuki sees the bear, a grin splits his face wide open.  "Nanko, I missed you so much!  Mommy, where did you find her?"

-9- Years go by, and Cloud nearly forgets that his son's bear is still around.  It sits high on a shelf now, dusty and untouched for nearly a decade.  He tries to convince Yuki to get rid of it, but the boy refuses.  It's odd, isn't it, for a teenager to want to hang onto a childhood toy?

But if a little teddy bear is really that important to him, Cloud's not going to force him to get rid of it.

-10- The smell of smoke wakes him in the early hours of the morning.  Not immediately seeing the source as his eyes quickly scan the room for flames, he turns to wake his wife, only to find that she is already climbing out of bed and stumbling toward the Conformer.  It's the third time in as many months that they've been confronted with this scenario before, and each and every time, the culprits have attempted to torch a new section of the palace.  No one is exactly sure who is to blame or why they're doing it, as the preferred method thus far has been Molotov cocktails thrown through windows that have opened to let in the cool summer breeze at night.  They've since ordered all windows shut and locked at all times.

It forces the criminals' hands a bit, and this time, they actually have to break in to set the fire.  Fortunately, he and Yuffie catch them before they can make their retreat, two men and a woman dressed in all black like some kind of ridiculous play on the stereotypical ninja's garb.   Yuffie hands them over to the guards, bloodied from the beating they'd given them, and though she doesn't exactly cut an intimidating image in her silky pajama shorts and pink crop top, her shuriken and fists speak for her.  The fire is put out before it can seriously damage anything else, and everyone in the room save for the three people in custody breathe a collective sigh of relief.

But even still, the would-be arsonists don't seem entirely disappointed to have failed their self-appointed mission yet again or, for that matter, to have been caught.  The woman stares at him as he walks by, and he can't help but notice the smug grin on her face.  He pauses, considers her for a long moment, but before he can demand an explanation for her oddly good mood, he detects the faintest hint of smoke in the air once again.

A scream shatters the silence of the room.  One of the guards shouts, "The prince!"

By the time Cloud turns toward the long hallway leading to his son's suite of rooms, Yuffie is already halfway down it.  He catches up to her as she's reaching for the door handle, but even as her fingers are closing over the knob, he can tell the knob is burning hot.  She lets out a curse and yanks her hand away.  He tries to break the door down, but the wood has expanded with the heat of the flames he can hear raging behind it, and there's no use of trying to get in this way.  The only other option is to try and break through the window in his bedroom.

The idea occurs to them simultaneously, and while they run outside and around the enormous building to find the correct window, Cloud prays that they're not too late.  The smile on the woman's face is the only thing he can see clearly in his mind, and it does nothing to dampen the worry clouding his thoughts.  They arrive to see their son standing in front of the window, pounding at it to no avail.

"Move!" Yuffie screams, holding up her shuriken so he can see it.  "Yuki, get out of the way!"

The drapes beside him are suddenly ablaze, and although he hasn't moved at all--is probably too frightened to think clearly and without a safe place to get away from the fire--Yuffie launches her weapon at the panes of glass.

The next few minutes are all a blur.  Cloud grabs his son out of the broken window and runs with him thrown over his shoulder.  Someone hauls out an Ice materia and extinguishes the fire.  Yuki is crying, and when Cloud sits him back down, the boy screams in pain and falls to the ground.  It's only then that Cloud notices the burn on his foot and ankle.  Someone is there almost immediately with a Restore, and in the blink of an eye, most of the burn is gone.  A potion will take care of the rest of the wound, but later.

The guards have followed them outside, their prisoners in tow, and the woman starts cackling when she catches sight of the chaos before her.  "It's too bad," she yells.  "Even if nothing else, I had hoped we could exterminate the vermin from Leviathan's sacred household.  His own daughter has betrayed him!  She's contaminated herself by fucking a man who belongs to Shinra--" She pauses long enough to spit in Cloud's direction, "--and she had the audacity to taint the holy blood of her family by producing that half-breed spawn with him.  Lord Godo should have forced the vile thing from her belly before it drew its first breath!"

Cloud has seen Yuffie kill before.  He's seen her ruthlessly take down a horde of attacking monsters.  He's seen her defeat Shinra troops and members of DeepGround in battle like it's nothing.  The only context in which he's ever seen her take a life, however, is self-defense.  This is most assuredly not self-defense.  This is angry and rough and uncontrolled.  This is Yuffie screaming and grunting with the effort as her shuriken lands home again and again, ripping open flesh and tearing through viscera in an instant.  This is Yuffie not caring that her skin and clothing are covered in a sickening amount of blood and gore.

This is Yuffie taking pleasure in murder for the sake of revenge, and it's the most frightening thing he's ever seen in his life.  The only thing he can do is pull Yuki into his chest so he doesn't have to see it himself, cover his ears to block out the sound of metal ripping through clothing into warm flesh and flinging hot, red blood everywhere.  A few droplets land on Cloud's face and the back of Yuki's shirt.

Yuffie sinks to her knees with a grunt next to the woman's remains, and even at a distance, Cloud can see how much she’s shaking.  She throws the weapon away from her and barks out an execution order for the two men.  The guards only look at each other and shrug before complying, snapping the mens' necks in the practiced, efficient manner he remembers seeing so many officers in Public Security at Shinra trying to perfect.

They quickly survey the extent of the physical damage to the palace, and they find the body of a fourth accomplice in the corner of Yuki's bedroom.  The corpse is pinned to the wall by Yuki's sword, skin black and blistered from the fire. 

"He tried to suffocate me," the boy explains.  "I got away from him, but then he threw a bottle at the other wall and it caught on fire.  And I didn't know what else to do, so I just..."

"It's okay, Yuki," he says, running his hand over his hair and hugging him close.  "You had to protect yourself."

"I could have incapacitated him, though.  I didn't have to kill him.  I'm a ninja.  Ninja are trained to--"

"Sometimes, Yuki," he interrupts, "just sometimes, just once in a great while, it's kill or be killed.  They took that choice away from you when they trapped you like that.  Don't blame yourself."

First kills always weigh on the heart like a heavy stone, and Cloud could only hope that his son will recover well from this horrific event.  He is a strong kid, and Cloud is confident that he will eventually be alright.

Until, that is, Yuki discovers the charred remains of Nanko in a pile of debris that is taken from the room.

-11- "My Lady, I'm sorry," says Yuki's exasperated tutor, "but the Prince is acting very strangely during his lessons as of late.  He has become very argumentative, and the obvious effort he used to put into his work is gone now."

Yuffie sighs and glances over at Cloud.  "This is all your fault, you know.  He inherited your wild adolescent chocobo genes.  We'll have to chain him to a wall to make sure he doesn't try to join SOLDIER."

Cloud rolls his eyes.  "...she says, as if she didn't run away from home around this age and join an eco-terrorist group."

Yuffie shrugs.  "Whatever.  We'll talk to him."

And talk they do, several times when the issues never seem to be resolved, but they can't get down to the heart of the matter.  When they ask what has changed recently to cause him not to enjoy school anymore, he only shrugs.  "Dunno.  Just boring, I guess."

Over the course of the next three months, the apathy worsens, and eventually, Yuki becomes combative about going to school, insisting that he has been taught everything he could possibly need to know, refusing to go sit in a room and be talked at for hours on end, as he describes it.  One day, he even goes so far as to push his tutor out of the way when the man stands in front of the doorway, blocking the only exit that Yuki has.  He had run outside and up the mountain, the tutor tells them frantically, and if that's the case, then there's only one place he can possibly be.

Ever since he was a tiny child, Yuki has been fascinated with the cave at the top of Da-Chao.  He and Yuffie have told him the story of how a fire raged inside for hundreds of years, until they found the scales of Leviathan and extinguished the flames.  He has always been enthralled by the scorch marks on the stone walls, and he would often ask to be told the story over and over again.  Now, he hid in the very back of the cave and let his thoughts wander.  It helped calm him down, he would say, to give him a quiet place to think about his life and everything that happened to him.

So Cloud and Yuffie climb the mountain, and they do indeed find their son inside the cave.  He stands as soon as he sees them, asking, "Am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?" Yuffie asks sarcastically, crossing her arms.  "You just assaulted someone.  No big deal, right?"

Cloud holds out his hand.  “You'll be in less trouble if you willingly come back down and finish your lessons today.”

He does, but his obvious restlessness about his education doesn't lessen at all.  His grades continue to hover barely above a passing mark, but nothing they do, no punishment, no encouragement or reward, no amount of time spent talking about why school has suddenly become so abhorrent to him or about what they could do to make it less so, makes the situation any less bleak.  One of them suggests moving him to a public school, where the presence of other children his age might help him out of his funk, and although Yuffie's advisers flip their collective shits about the decision, within a week he is enrolled and attending a school that's less than a ten minute walk from the palace.

The improvement in his grades is neither dramatic nor immediate, but when their son comes home with a smile most days and doesn't fight them every morning on whether or not he needs to get out of bed, it's well worth the adjustment.

-1.5- "It's a boy," the midwife says.

-12- Cloud suffers from the occasional sleepless night, and it's never really bothered him.  Most people take spells of insomnia, whether due to stress or illness or anything else, so it's not exactly abnormal.  Usually, he self-medicates with a glass or two of wine and a cake pop binge, but it's not helping at all tonight.  He's scared to pour a third glass, as he and Yuffie have an extremely important meeting in the morning and being hungover isn't the best idea when they're meeting with the leader of a rebel faction who could easily instigate his followers into a death-match against the Empress's army and win.  

What he decides to do in the end is watch television.  Wutai has some of the craziest programs he's ever seen, and at night, he can't say they get any less weird.  But if he's very lucky, which he is tonight, sometimes the wild and crazy bright-flashing-lights sort of game shows are foregone in favor of an eastern movie.  It's dubbed over, of course, but his wutai is more than strong enough by now that he doesn't have any trouble understanding the fast-paced sentences.  He does ponder over a few of the translation choices, but it's all a part of the late-night TV experience.

He's so deeply entrenched in his second movie that he doesn't really hear the door open.  Or rather, he does hear it but doesn't think anything of it.  It's not quite 4 in the morning, and that's around the time when the guards change shifts, so he's not worried.  If one of them forgot something in the house or simply wants to take a shortcut through the kitchen to get back home, he's not going to say anything.

The odd thing about it is...why aren't any of the other guards coming through the house?  There's never just one poking around during a shift change.  Usually it's all of them coming in at once, a dozen people exchanging information and gossip and news and anything and everything else.   Right now, Cloud can only hear one set of footsteps making their way very slowly and deliberately up the hallway, and that cannot be good.  Because from the way the sound reverberates, whoever this is is trying to sneak into...

Cloud jumps up as fast as he can and races back to his son's bedroom, the memory of the fire and of Yuki's injuries and his wife's bloodthirsty, determined face springing to mind.  He can't let anyone else hurt Yuki, he just can't, he can't lose anyone else ever again, not like last time, please Aerith please, please, please, just let Yuki be okay, let his son be okay--!

Yuki is fine.  He's covered in a mixture of body paint, sweat, and glitter, but he's okay.  He jumps when Cloud barges into the room, which is more than understandable considering he's in the middle of undressing and has exposed the hot pink lipstick smear someone has pressed to his stomach.  “Dad, stop it!” he hisses, yanking his shirt back over his chest and turning away very quickly.  “Just get out!”

He does, but there will be no letting anything he saw go without comment and explanation.  He waits for a bit and knocks at the door again.  “Yuki, I'm not leaving.”

After almost ten minutes, the door is finally opened for him.  Yuki is clean once again and has changed into his pajamas, but there's a distinct scent in the air that lingers on him.  Cloud can't quite figure out what it is.  He sits down beside the boy, intent on talking about why he found him sneaking back into his rooms at this time of night and where on Gaia he had been to get so filthy, but the stench knocks him over, takes his breath away.  All of a sudden, he's back in Nibelheim, 16 years old and watching helplessly from inside a body he can no longer control as he's dumped into a tank filled with mako and left to die.  He shakes the memory from his head, but the scent is still there and it's coming from Yuki.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Cloud notes.

Those dark eyes, exactly like his mother's, look away from him and roll.  “So?”

“So,” Cloud replies, worried and disgusted at the same time with a hint of anger roiling underneath his skin, “there's only one reason for that.”

“You're so clever, aren't you?”

“This is serious, Yuki!  How long have you been using mako?”

Recreational mako use was nothing new, but for obvious reasons, it was thought to be a thing of the past.  Apparently not.  Cloud couldn’t say he’d never done it himself as a teenager in Midgar, where tiny vials of the stuff could be purchased on nearly every street corner both above and below the Plate so long as there was no one from Public Security on patrol.  It gave the regular folks of the world a small taste of what it felt like to be a SOLDIER, a high that included temporarily enhanced senses and a ton of synthetic confidence.  It wore off fairly quickly, and first-time users were often left with nausea and a killer headache after they crashed.

Yuki didn’t seem to be exhibiting those symptoms, so Cloud could only assume it wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

Not much was known about the side effects of what was effectively a self-administered mako injection not dissimilar to the ones SOLDIERs received at Shinra.  They were much weaker, of course, but most off-label uses before this involved mixing other illegal substances with mako to enhance the high.  This stuff was diluted, sure, but it was still mako, straight from the Planet. Who the hell knew what this could do to a person’s body with prolonged exposure?

And his own son is shooting it into his veins, slowly destroying himself from the inside out.  Cloud is determined to put a stop to this even if that means locking Yuki away from the world until the storm has passed.  He will not let his son waste his life like this.  He will not take the chance that Yuki has inherited his susceptibility toward mako poisoning and could be only one high away from slipping into a coma, or worse.

Yuki shrugs, still looking away from him.  “Why do you even care?” 

“Maybe because I'm your father,” he replies, ���and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you.”

His son scoffs.  “It was just a party, Dad.  Not a big deal.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he counters, taking hold of his son's shoulders and forcing Yuki to face him.  “Do you have any idea how dangerous mako is?  What it could do to you one day?  You're fourteen years old, Yuki; this stuff could kill you.”

Yuki still isn't meeting his eyes.  “Fuck you, okay?” he grunts, shaking himself out of Cloud's arms.  He stands up and takes a few steps away.  “I just wanted to feel like a normal kid for once in my life.”

Cloud ignores the swearing.  He can tell they are getting close to the root of the problem, and that's more important.  He'd said “normal kid”; is this about rebelling from the expectations and pressure put on him as the prince?  Yuffie's counselors and advisers are sometimes quite harsh with Yuki under the pretense of preparing him for inheriting the throne.  In reality, Cloud knows that at least some of it is due to the fact that he is half-eastern.  Yuki will be the first mixed-race emperor Wutai has ever seen, and none of the officials can really agree if the country is ready for him or not.  They themselves aren't ready for him, because most of them still cling so tightly to the traditional aristocrat's idea that non-Wutai are somehow beneath them, and that mixed blood is tainted.  

He remembers the speech one of the extremists gave the night Yuki was attacked, and although he hasn't heard anything of the sort with his own ears, he has heard rumors from some of the residential workers that certain of Yuffie's advisers had been disappointed that his son survived.  It's no secret that they all hate Cloud, but being unable to take it out on him directly, they poke, prod, question, and attempt to forcibly mold Yuki into the kind of ruler they want him to be, to make sure that his undesirable eastern heritage doesn't interfere with his ability to competently govern his people.

Cloud can't say he doesn't empathize.  “Normal kids don't do drugs, Yuki.”

The boy lets out a loud grunt, slamming his fists down on his desk.  His back is still turned to Cloud as he screams, “But normal kids know if they're a boy or girl!”

The silence that follows that statement is embarrassingly long, and it takes Cloud much longer than it should to understand what his son is saying, to parse the words and formulate an intelligent response.  A boy or a girl?  What in the world does gender have to do with anything?  His mouth is hanging open slightly, and he's peripherally aware of Yuki turning towards him and glaring at him, the sharp gaze falling heavy and intrusive on his skin as his son awaits some kind of response.  When he can form words, all Cloud can manage is, “So...you’re trans?”

Yuki's eyes drop, and his entire form goes slack as he sits down on top of his desk.  “Yeah?  No.  I don't know!”  A sigh escapes him, and when the boy looks back up at him, his dark eyes are shining with tears. “I don't know, okay?”

This is serious, but Cloud has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to do.  Comfort his son, of course, but beyond that?  No idea.  So he does the only thing he can think to do and hugs Yuki.  “Hey, nugget, it's okay,” he whispers into the boy's hair. “Don't cry, alright?  You don't have to have yourself figured out just yet.  Nobody's gonna pressure you to be anything you're not.  Just take some time and—”

“Everybody pressures me,” Yuki interrupts.  “Maybe you don't notice it, but I do!  Everybody calls me a guy, calls me the prince, or calls me your son, and sometimes it feels so wrong that I just want to punch them!  But then it's like...other times, I don't care, you know?  It feels okay to be called a boy.   But it makes me so frustrated, because where do I get off being angry at people when I don't even know what I am?”  

Cloud is completely out of his depth here, but he can't let it show.  He can't let his discomfort show, lest Yuki take it as a sign that his struggle is unfounded.  He can't let Yuki think that he's being rejected, that this moment of uncertainty is grounds for any amount of distrust or hatred from his parents.  Because it's just the opposite.  Right now more than ever, Yuki needs him, needs strength from his father to make it through this without breaking down, and he's not going to let his child suffer alone just because he's unsure of himself, unsure if he even can help, unsure if he'll only make things worse.  The pressure to be a perfect father was immense, but Yuki didn't need him to be perfect.  Yuki just needed him to be there, to hold him when he thinks the world's coming to an end, and to make sure he knows he's strong enough to come through it.

What he decides to do, when Yuki has mostly stopped crying, is to take to the worldwide network.  Cloud turns on the boy's laptop and opens up a browser page to the Moogle search engine.  He coaxes Yuki onto his lap and tells him to type and search, that they'd try to find an answer together.  And he does, and they spend hours there reading articles and watching videos and, most importantly, talking about what Yuki thinks about everything he's reading. 

Eventually they come across a page that lists a variety of different gender identities.  It begins with cisgender, which Yuki is vehemently sure he is not, and transgender, which they've already marked off the list as well.  Then there's non-binary, a term they'd encountered earlier that Yuki had taken a liking to.  As they read on, though, they discover the word genderqueer, and a few minutes later, genderfluid.

Yuki's eyes light up.  Cloud can almost feel how excited he is with every word he reads.  He gets through to the end of the paragraph and says, “That's it, Dad.  That's me.  It's—that's exactly what I feel like.”

“Okay,” Cloud replies, feeling incredibly relieved himself.  He can't even begin to imagine what his son feels like right now.  He's grinning ear to ear, and it's the most beautiful thing Cloud has ever seen.  “Genderfluid.  Alright.  Have you been thinking anymore about pronouns yet?  Not that you have to decide right now, but—”

“No, yeah, I think...I think I like 'they.'  Yeah.  'They' and 'them.'  That feels pretty good.”

Cloud nods, but before he can say anything else, before he can assure Yuki that changing his mind later is always an option if he needs to, Yuki's stomach growls audibly.  He can't help but laugh.  He's getting a little hungry himself.  Glancing at the clock, he notices that it's nearly 7am already.  “Hey, you know what we should do?  We should take my bike and go down to that 24-hour diner for breakfast.  Just you and me.”

Yuki's eyes glisten with mischievous pleasure.  He looks exactly like his mother.  “Mom will kill you when she finds out we went without her.”

He gives his child a wink.  “I won't tell if you won't.”

-1.6- "It's a boy."

-13- Although he does his best, it's hard at first to overwrite the part of his brain that thinks of his child as "he."  He's honestly pretty bad at remembering to use Yuki's pronouns in the beginning, but eventually he starts catching himself before the "he" can escape his mouth and replaces it with "they."  It's awkward at first, because every time he messes up, he can't help but think how hurt Yuki must be, can't help but cringe and hope that this mistake won't be the last straw for his child, the moment when they give up on ever being accepted by their own family.

A few months after the initial introduction of his child's preferred pronouns, he sits Yuki down after a particularly tense and silent dinner and apologizes.  "I know it's important, and I really am trying, I promise.  It's just hard sometimes."

Yuki nods, but he--no, they--won't look at him.  "Yeah."

"Are we still okay?" Cloud asks, putting an arm around his child's shoulders.

"...yeah."

"You don't sound too sure."

The silence hangs between them for a long time, which tells Cloud that, no, they're not still okay.  There's something else Yuki wants to get off their chest, and even though Cloud wants them both to clear the air about everything, the choice to speak up has to be Yuki's.  If not tonight, then maybe another day, but now that Cloud knows something is bothering them, he can't let it fester for very long.

Just as he's about to press a kiss to their forehead and tell them they don't have to talk right now, they whisper, "I miss Nanko, that's all."

Cloud pauses, uncertain of how to proceed.  The subject of Nanko is a touchy one, hard to maneuver without making Yuki intensely upset or viciously angry.  He tests the waters with, "Nanko was very important to you.  Makes sense you would miss them."

"I guess."

"But..." and he can only hope as he runs his fingers over his child's hair that this doesn't end badly, "...you don't need Nanko anymore, right?"

Yuki shrugs.  "Guess not."

"And if you hadn't lost them--"

"You used to make fun of Nanko."

There it is.  This is the source of Yuki's discomfort, and Cloud has been trying to work out what he would say about this subject for months now.  "I did," he answers, meeting their eyes even though it’s the last thing he wants to do.  He wants to say more, to explain everything and apologize again all at once, but he pauses to let Yuki finish expressing himself.  Themself.

"You and Mom used to make fun of them right in front of me.  And then you laughed when I got angry."

"Yes."

"You thought Nanko's gender stuff was a joke."

"I did."

"So...do you think I'm a joke too?"

Cloud's heart starts pounding.  He can't just say, "Oh no, of course not, Yuki!" and move on, because that won't help anything.  And pointing out that Cloud had been the one to help him find the terminology and the language with which he could express his gender identity, although strictly speaking the truth, is bound to only make things worse.  Cloud has done severely wrong by his child, and it's not something he can ever fix.  Unintentionally, he's left scars on Yuki's heart that will maybe fade over the years, but they will never go away.  He can only take ownership of his mistakes, admit them instead of dismissing Yuki's very valid fears and concerns, and focus on changing his behavior in the future.

So he hugs Yuki close, lays a kiss on their forehead, and says, "I'm sorry for the things I did and the way I acted when you were little.  There was no excuse for it.  If I could go back and change it, I would, Yuki, in a heartbeat.  But I can't.  Instead, all I can do is make sure I respect your identity from now on.  And I do.  I know that sexuality can be fluid; it only makes sense that gender can be too, and I wish I had realized that before.  You're not a joke, nugget.  Don't let anyone ever treat you like you are, especially not your mom or me.  All I ask is that you continue to be patient with us while we relearn how to think about you, and that you never, ever let us get away with misgendering you.  Because if we're allowed to, then your friends will think they are, too, and so will your teachers, and Mom's advisers, and the entire country.  You'll be in charge one day, and I don't want you to have to fight to be respected then.  So start fighting right now, and begin at home."

He can't quite see Yuki's face, but five minutes goes by very slowly as neither speak, and when they raise their head from his shoulder, there is a small damp spot in his shirt.  "Thanks, Dad," Yuki says.

"I love you, nugget," he responds, and although Yuki just nods on his--their--way out of the room, Cloud feels like a weight has been lifted off of him.  

He hopes Yuki feels it too.

-14- "So, I've been thinking, right?  About what my legal titles will be when I inherit the throne.  I need you and mom to go to bat for me with the advisers, because I'm not just a son of Leviathan, you know?  But it's too wordy to say 'sometimes a son, sometimes a daughter of Leviathan,' that's a crap title.  So this is what I came up with instead: 'Their Imperial Majesty, Kisaragi Yuki, Child of Leviathan, Sacred Ninja of Da-Chao, and Rightful Emprex of Wutai.'  Will they go for Emprex, you think?  I mean, I could use 'Ruler' instead, but I kind of like the sound of Emprex.  It was a pain in the ass to get them to call me Heir, and I guess I'm willing to compromise about Emprex, but at the same time, I should get the final say, right?  It'll be my country, and it's my title.  Why can't they just use gender-neutral language all the time, anyway?  Wouldn't it make things so much simpler in the long run?"

-1.7- "It's a boy."

No.

Yuki is a healthy newborn, perfect and tiny and the most beautiful thing on the Planet, and that's all that Cloud has ever asked for.  Son or daughter, neither or both--it doesn't matter.  They are his child, and he will love them with everything in his entire being until the day he dies.

-15- For their 17th birthday, Cloud buys Yuki a teddy bear.  Well, he can't actually go out and make the purchase himself, because his health doesn't allow it, but he commissions Yuki's bodyguard Jun to do it, gives her explicit instructions on what he wants, and tells her not to bother with anything that isn't perfect.  In the end, she can't find anything to suit his specifications, and so he calls Tifa, still living in Edge, to see if she can help him.  He can hear her smile when he tells her what he wants, and she lets him know that a specialty shop recently opened in town that lets people custom-build a stuffed animal.  As long as she can find the right kind of ribbon, it should be relatively simple.

The finished product arrives two days before the party.  Cloud opens the box to inspect its contents, and he hasn't been this happy in months.  He undoes the ribbon around the bear's neck, attaching the small charm he bought weeks ago, and ties it back.

It's perfect.

Later on that night, after the main part of the party is over, after the food has been eaten, after the advisers and counselors and public officials and other Important People of Wutai have offered up (as Yuki calls it) their “politically-correct, ass-kissing gifts”, the Imperial family has their own celebration.  Cloud has managed, with some help from Yuffie, to get up from his wheelchair and have a seat next to his child.  The nurse assigned to him for the day protests, but he waves her concerns off.  Yuki looks happy to see him up and about, but there's a certain sadness behind it.  Everyone in this room knows it's only a matter of time before he dies, but none of them are willing to admit it.  

His doctors tell him that he shouldn't give up fighting, but he knows he won't make it to Yuki's next birthday, so he has to make this one count.

He saves his gift for last, and the emotion that crosses Yuki's face as they unwrap it gives him chills.  Tears well up in their eyes as they grip the teddy bear in their hands.  Cloud puts an arm around his child, and they melt into his side, unable to control their emotions.

The bear is as identical to Nanko as possible, with one change.  The ribbon around the bear's neck is now a color gradient, rather than the neutral-palette plaid of the original.  The colors might not seem significant—pink fading into purple merging into blue—but Yuki immediately understands.  And the charm Cloud has attached to the ribbon is unique as well: an emblem that blended the stereotypical male and female symbols with an infinity sign.  

When Yuki is nearly composed again, Cloud asks, “Any thoughts about a name?”

Yuki hums thoughtfully, holding the bear out in front of them and considering it very seriously.  “I think...Jiikyu.”

Cloud smiles, immediately recognizing the source of the name.  Jiikyu, as in GQ.  Genderqueer.  “That's an awesome name,” he says, laying a kiss on their forehead.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome, Yuki.” 

[siamesesouls]

I’m All Yours Tonight

Lioness, the big and prestigious institute was getting ready for their new graduation party for last year senior students. King was a nerve wreck, it was the first time he wouldn’t be awkwardly sitting away from everyone at a celebration; this time he meant to enjoy the company of the person most precious to him; his beloved Diane. It’s been a couple of months since their first date, one which King couldn’t relax at all since he was at the presence of the cutest girl he had ever seen. Although he is still hasn’t changed that much, not with the girl he’s been in love ever since meeting her at their time as elementary students. He was sporting his best outfit, one his mother made for him, on his way to his lover’s home. Now that he thinks about it, he has never been inside of Diane’s house; this would be the first time for a lot of things for King, including meeting her parents. It’s a huge step indeed. —“This is it…O-okay King, you can do this” He arrived at the door and hesitantly rang the doorbell. The tension grew stronger with every passing second he was standing there. “What if his family doesn’t like him? What if they don’t approve their relationship?” He was filling his head with way too many silly thoughts. —“Yes? Who is it?” A built hairy man opened the door asking on a deep dry tone. He was so scary; King could barely say he was looking for Diane, without peeing in his pants. —“Oh, you must that King my daughter can’t stop talking about” Even though what he said clearly was something that warmed the young boy’s heart, he couldn’t show it on his nervous face; her father didn’t look happy at all seeing him. Maybe it had something to do with him crackling his knuckles threatening at King, maybe. —“I-it’s my pleasure to finally meet you, sir” He tried to liven up the mood between them, and failed miserably. —“Let me just make this clear, I don’t like you, and if you ever dare touching my little girl in an inappropriate way, I’ll skin you alive myself” —“Dad, stop harassing my boyfriend!” Diane jumped up next to him and grabbed King’s hand to let him in. Thank God she came. —“I’m so sorry; he can be a little overprotective sometimes; as you can see I haven’t gotten ready yet, so give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be all yours” She let out a soft giggle, making him blush deeply. Once she went to her room upstairs; King stayed in the living room waiting for her. She was so gorgeous and beautiful, so perfect. He couldn’t just believe how wonderful she was, and how lucky he was to be with someone like her. Just as Diane finished fixing herself up and went downstairs to where her prince charming was waiting. King remembered something he wanted to give to her, a beautiful white rose in a crystal box; he took it out of his pocket ready to give it to her but immediately froze up with the mere sight of his beloved in a beautifully crafted dress. —“Do…you like it?” Diane asked shyly while trying not to cover her face with the newly combed hair He couldn’t believe what his eyes were looking; she was more than just gorgeous; it was perfection itself. His hands begun to shake nervously almost letting the box fell off, which got Diane’s attention. —“Is that for me?” He nodded violently at her to let her know it was a gift meant only for his one and only girlfriend. She unwrapped loose the bindings to open it; looks like she liked it as a soft yet noticeable “Wow” came out of her lips. —“It’s so beautiful King, thanks” Diane took her time looking at King from top to bottom while caressing his white shirt; he could feel her fingers moving across his chest. —“You look so handsome” The blush in both their cheeks made its way across their faces until there was no single spot left without the beet red color on their skin. The tension in the air was growing as King noticed Diane’s father looking to him; almost like making sure he doesn’t do anything with her. —“Oh, t-that reminds me; my mom is waiting for us outside, she will drive us to the party” Diane was still flushed, and a little disappointed she didn’t make her move with him when she could. Some things can’t be helped. They went outside holding hands to where King’s mother, Elise, was waiting for them. She was euphoric; taking pictures at the couple like there was no tomorrow. Obviously King protested, so not to make Diane uncomfortable. As they were about to enter the car Diane’s father went outside as well, demanding to enter as well. —“E-Elise; this is my dad” Diane said with a grim sigh. —“Oh, you don’t say? I’m Elise it’s so good to finally meet you, Sir” Elise extended her hand kindly to say hi; but was met with coldness as Diane’s dad brush it off. —“Are you serious? Can’t you be nice for ONE night?” Diane was furious at him; her father fretted at the sight of his pissed off daughter. He replied with bitterness and took Elise’s hand in a handshake position while making a forced smile. —“Nice…to meet you too” He said in between his clashing teeth; squishing her hand harder by every passing second. —“S-sir, you are hurting me” Elise began to sweat at the crushing strength of Diane’s father. —“Dad. Let. Her. Go!” Diane took her father by the wrist in an attempt to calm him down. Once Elise was released from his grip he invited himself inside the car; sitting on the front side. While on their way to Lioness, Diane remembered the frustration of not being able to make a move on her boyfriend before and so she decided to make it up to him; she placed her hand on top of King’s followed by her head resting onto his shoulders in a tenderly manner. —“I cannot wait to be there; this is going to be the best day of my life” Elise was looking at them from the rear-view mirror with a gentle smile on her face. While Diane’s father…well, let’s just say he wasn’t happy at all. After a brief awkward silence they finally arrived at their destination. The blinding lights were on spot this year; everything looked perfect. The main hall was filled with people dancing non-stop; this was the moment both King and Diane were waiting for the whole year. Their parents sat on one of the tables near entrance as the young couple headed straight to the dance floor. —“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen to the Lioness Graduation Party. We are going to start this lovely evening with a gift from us to every student couple in here; You better be accompanied by that special someone right now, ‘cause this party is gonna start softly with a calming love dance. All couples head to the center of the hall and show us the flame of your love” Diane dragged King’s hand to the circle where the couples were dancing; he was still focused on her father’s angry eyes, slowly doubting what to do with Diane so to not unleash his fury. Noticing this, Diane took her boyfriend’s hands and placed them on her hip and lower back as a sign for him to relax. She wanted this; she wasn’t gonna let her father ruin this party for her, especially with her loved one so close to her. She rested her arms on top of his shoulders, surrounding his neck; so to close the distance between them. They didn’t spend too much time in that position as Diane leaned in close to him, placing a loving kiss on his lips. King shuddered violently; for a beat of a second he actually considered stopping the kiss before melting in her completely. It was amazing; as a warm sensation started inside their chests like a campfire burning bright towards the climax. It was just them, not their parents, not the announcer. Not a single soul besides them and nothing in the world that could stop them. —“I love you” they finally ended the kiss with a love statement. They spent the whole night in each other’s company; Diane’s father was silent the whole evening and even on their way home on Elise’s car. King thought he was finally going to be killed by him; although he didn’t care, he didn’t mind dying right there after experiencing the best party he ever had. King, Diane and her father went out of the car; King decided to face his lover’s father so to make him understand he only wishes to protect Diane. Before he could actually speak, Diane’s dad extended his hand to King to give him a handshake. —“I know I’ve been a pain in the ass to both of you; I now understand that you truly care about my daughter. Although I still don’t like you; I have no doubts that you will take good care of her, son” —“Thank you Sir, it means so much to me. And I promise I’ll make your daughter happy for the rest of my life” Diane jumped on top of them; hugging them on the floor. —“You two are the most important men in my life” King and Diane’s father spent a really long time latches onto her arms, holding her tenderly and lovingly until it was time for King to go. While on their way home, King received a message from Diane. “Thank you for making this the best day of my life. I love you so much <3” He was definitely happy to be able to spend his graduation party with his special someone. Once he replied to her message he rested his face on the door’s window; losing himself on the thought of what awaits for them later on.

[jimlingss]

She’s Testosterone 3 [Finale] 2/2

Read the Original: She’s Testosterone Read the Sequel: She’s Testosterone 2 Read the Final Installment: She’s Testosterone 3 Part 1|Part 2

Words: 15.7k Genre: 49% Crack, 40% Fluff, 10% Smut, 1% Angst. Gender Bender!Au Summary: Drop dead gorgeous, cute and sassy - you adore your best friend. But is there more beneath the surface? Who exactly is Min Yoonji? Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, praise kink, light spanking and all other kinds of sin...

Disclaimer: Includes cross-dressing as the opposite gender. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the subject matter. Viewer discretion is advised.

“You must know him well if you’re willing to grab him like that.” Yoonhee hums, tilting her head to the sky. Your arm is looped around hers, the way she decided to walk with you. “He doesn’t let anyone touch him anymore, not even me, the relative that cares for him the most.” She says dramatically before laughing, “so, are you the two of you close?”

Her eyes pin onto yours, making you absolutely terrified. You feel transparent, like she can see every single sweat bead roll down your face, every breath you take. You’re prey while she’s the predator, an adorable cub compared to the lioness. It feels like you’ve propelled back into the days where you first met your roommate. “S-somewhat.”

The Min family certainly has skills in intimidation.

“You’re cute, you know?” Yoonhee giggles menacingly. “I would’ve never guessed that you were his type.”

“Oh..me and Yoongi…” Your entire face goes red. “We’re not like that! Not at all actually.”

“Yeah?”

She looks amused. You scramble, accidentally stuttering out of nervousness. “I-It’s just that we’re really good friends. Nothing more really. I...uh...I-I’m not sure.”

“Yoongi’s a nice boy.” She sighs out, avoiding the crowd and scowling when there’s too much noise. It seems like she hates Seokjin’s singing and when she passes by Hoseok reading his poem, she almost gags. The similarities between her and Yoongi are incredible. “He was like a puppy when he was younger, the darn cutest thing ever.”

Your eyes gleam, soaking in all the information and you hum in agreement. “Yoongi appears cranky but he’s actually really...soft.”

“Exactly.” She snaps her fingers in her other hand, pointing at you with a smirk. “Looks like you really do know him. He acts like a grumpy grandpa shouting at kids to get off his lawn but he’s still a kid inside. Childish indeed. Back in the day, he would pout and cry when he didn’t get what he wanted. And when he did, he had the biggest smile. What a twerp. We’re not that far away from age, only five years, so I grew up with him.”

It hits you that you actually don’t know about his family or what he was like when he was a child. Hearing all these things piques your curiosity and is absolutely fascinating. You hang onto every single one of his aunt’s words and syllables. She notices that you’re listening intently and her smirk grows, continuing to ramble.

“Girls and boys used to chase him in the neighborhood. He was that cute. Still is but he has this whole man facade and tries to act mad all the time. It doesn’t really work though. Oh! We used to call him Yoongi bear since he was so cuddly.”

Yoongi. Cuddly. “He was?!” Your eyes nearly fall out of its sockets.

The older woman cackles, tipping back her head. “One time after the lights had gone out, he hung onto me without letting go. And as a toddler, he was practically attached to his mom’s hip. The kid has an iron grip, I swear. He loves hugs and affection.”

It sounds like you’re hearing about a completely different person.

But you can understand, you’re able to draw connections. It’s no wonder Yoongi really doesn’t mind when you curl in bed with him, when you latch onto his arm, when he initiates holding hands with you.

As you’re about to pry for more, your name is called aloud.

“Y/N?!” Yoongi’s jaw has dropped and his parents look quite surprised too. “Yoonhee?!”

His aunt cackles again, letting go of you and meeting him halfway. She puts a hand on his shoulder and he stares at her with a distasteful expression. “What are you doing here?”

She embraces him for a tiny second. “Thought I’d come to visit.” Then her voice drops down, whispering something in his ear that you can’t hear. Yoongi’s face goes scarlet and he pushes her off. She walks away from him, joining with the rest of the family.

(“Don’t corrupt her too much. She’s a sweet little thing.”)

Yoongi sighs and then looks up at you. “What-”

“And who may you be?!” His mother has ran up to the both of you, taking your hands, clutching them in hers and making you jump. She grins, a gummy smile that is reminiscent to your best friend but rather having a scary demeanor, she is bright and chirpy, contrasting to her husband.

Yoonhee grins and she crosses her arms, whipping her hair back. “It’s his girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s father’s brows raises. “Really?!”

“No! No!” You hastily wave your hands. “I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you and I’m just a good friend of Yoongi’s.”

His father virtually sighs in disappointment; for a sheer second he was excited and proud of his son. “Oh.” Yoonhee pouts, tilting her head to the side as she studies you again but Yoongi’s mother has yet to accept defeat.

“You are just too cute, Y/N!” She takes you along, looping her arm through yours. Her eyes are full of fondness, taking in your features and staring into your irises. “You know...I've always wanted a daughter…”

”Actually, tomorrow, I was planning to go shopping since I’m here. Would you like to come along with? I’m sure you have a great sense of style!”

Yoonhee raises her nose, accompanying you. “Sounds fun.”

Yoongi’s left behind, his family trailing after you. “Hey!”

The family dotes on you as if you’re a precious daughter of their own. In a million years, you would have never expected the Min family to be like this, look at you with such kind eyes and speak gently and warmly. Then again, they have Min Yoongi’s softness without the facade of intimidation or the ominous, threatening aura.

Yoonhee is the one that keeps you on the edge of your seat the most, a sharp tongue and beauty that is unrivaled with. She reminds you of Yoonji but a real life version, an exact embodiment and the resemblance is uncanny. There are several occasions where you almost call her Yoonji rather than her own name.

Yoongi’s mother is talkative and clingy. It’s reminiscent of how Yoongi ever so often demands affection from you and the way he mumbles on a tangent incoherently when he’s stressed. But she’s considerate and loving, making your heart feel full with her maternal tenderness. On the other hand, Yoongi’s father is quieter and comes off as serious, solemn and dignified. But you notice the way he cares for his wife, cautioning her to watch her step, walking on edge of the sidewalk closest to the passing cars, opening water bottle caps and securing her jacket around her shoulders when it becomes chilly.

His benevolence and thoughtfulness is quiet but distinctively present.

From Yoongi’s mother’s gummy smile to the way his father acts in a nonchalant manner and Yoonhee's unrelenting sarcasm - the similarities are striking.

It feels like you’re seeing parts of Yoongi, pieces of him, walking around on their own. And you’ve never been more in love with a family before.

//

Park Jimin walks as a ghost.

It feels like a part of his being has been ripped away. His soul is missing. His purpose has vanished. The love of his life, apple of his eye, the light of his world, the Romeo to his Juliet, has rejected him. Thus, he wanders around with a broken heart, begging someone to mend it for him. He cannot work the needle and thread past his tear soaked eyes.

That is….until he lays those same eyes on a certain someone.

Pouty lips. Rounded cheeks. Soft orbs. The breeze carrying strands of blackened hair in front of their face but they remain unfazed. Milky, polished skin and perfect legs, a height that matches his. And the aura is strong, could be felt from a mile away, uncaring and frightening.

Jimin’s heart has been snatched.

“I run a beauty salon, cute little shop on a corner street.” She smirks and scans you from head to toe for the fifth time. “You should come by some time. You’re a diamond in the rough, sweetheart. I don’t just make this offer to anyone.”

“T-thank you.” As you dip your head slightly in appreciation, your pupils flicker over. “Jimin?!”

His mouth is agape, staring at your companion who doesn’t even notice him. “Yoonji?”

When he races up to her and she immediately frowns, taking a step back from the grinning boy. His smile is dazzling despite being out of breath. You almost let out a sob. Jimin truly looks like an angel who has descended down from Heaven. “Who’s this Yoonji? I’m Min Yoonhee. Yoon - hee. Got that?”

But Yoongi’s youngest aunt doesn’t seem at all shaken by him. If anything, she rolls her eyes and points to him with her manicured nail. “You know this guy?”

“I-”

“I’m Park Jimin. Nice to meet you.” He puts out his hand and she shakes it with two of her fingers before letting go, wiping her skin on her jacket. “You must be new here? I can show you around if you’d like!”

“Nice try.” She scoffs. “I’ve been here done that. Not a student anymore.”

Jimin sways from side to side in a cheery mood, rolling on his toes. “Wow! Really? You look young! And you’re really pretty. I mean beautiful, not just pretty.”

She’s completely disinterested. “Uh-huh.”

“This is Yoongi’s aunt, Yoonhee.” You try to ease the tension, making a timid introduction. “She’s coming to visit. I think Yoongi might return soon-”

Jimin interrupts, like a puppy dog who just can’t wait to have a treat. “Can I have your number?” The way he asks isn’t in a tone that most would use to pick up girls, the greasy sleazeballs that catcall near dumpsters and sketchy convenience stores. It’s rather innocent and naive, like a cute middle schooler acting brazen towards a high schooler. He blinks with his big eyes, kind smile and a hopeful expression. Your own heart lurches out and if it were you, you’d write your number a million times and throw it in the air like confetti, screaming ‘yes!’.

“Fuck off.”

Yoonhee makes a ‘hmph’ sound and like a cold boss ass bitch, she spins on her heels and enters the gift shop of the university, disappearing from sight. At the same time, Yoongi’s exiting and he smiles at you. “Hey! My parents were asking-” His lips fall at the sight of Jimin.

When you whip your head over, you expect Jimin to be crying into his hands, his smashed heart disintegrating completely into ash. You envision him breaking down in public, the sweet smile of his broken forever. But instead….he’s grinning even wider...eyes following the backside of Yoonhee. He’s in love.

You wonder if he’s a masochist.

“Yoongi!” He reaches over and hugs the other man. “It’s been awhile. Where’s Yoonji? But actually..I was wondering...” Jimin nervously twiddles with his fingers. “Can I have your aunt’s number?”

“No.”

Yoongi takes your hand within his, bringing you away. You’re in a state of shock, merely moving after him. Jimin jumps, smiling brightly and he waves. “Okay, bye!”

//

How is it possible? What have you been doing wrong? Were you that inadequate that Jimin wouldn’t even look at you twice?

“Are you seriously still hung up on him?” Yoongi sighs, taking his foot and nudging the lump on your mattress. He kicks your butt gently and then plops down on his own bed. “He’s an idiot, alright? It’s not your fault. Nothing is. His loss.”

“No.” You softly whine despite it being a lie. You twist and turn, revealing just your face in the bundle of your covers. “Your parents are really nice.”

“They aren’t.” He takes a long drink from his water bottle. “I don’t know how you did it but they absolutely love you. Even Yoonhee.” He sulks and wipes his mouth. “How did you do it?”

“I don’t know.” You answer in honesty. “I really didn’t do anything.”

“You just acted like yourself…”

“Yeah.”

Now Yoongi can understand why. Even if you’re an idiot as well, you’re a lovable one.

Hating you would be no less than hating puppies or kittens. They’re helpless and so are you. Somehow you have the power of pulling people’s most protective and tender instincts out. It also relatively makes it more difficult for Yoongi to stay mad at you.

In the morning, you still refuse to budge out of your cocoon.

“Get up!” He attempts to tug the blanket away. “Just because it’s the weekend doesn’t mean you can stay here all day.” You don’t even answer him with words, just a strangled whine. “This is all because of Jimin, isn’t it?!”

You whimper. Yoongi gives up.

He swears under his breath, getting ready for the day and taking his belongings. You’re too much to deal with. And he has priorities. Studying in the library will give him a better outcome than worrying for your stupid and blind ass. But before the door is able to slam closed, your phone rings violently. Yoongi sighs and decides to pick up since you wouldn’t even flinch if the building was set on fire.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, sweetie? Is that you? Good news! We managed to switch our flight!”

A deeper man’s voice comes onto the other line. “We’re here! Surprise!”

The phone call ends abruptly after some fumbling, an accidental click of the button. Yoongi nudges you again and you don’t make a sound. Though as he drops the word ‘parents’ like a bomb, you jolt up, throwing off the blankets.

“What?”

//

They're standing at the entrance with the statues and the official sign, taking turns snapping pictures on their ancient camera, putting up their first two fingers and palm facing outwards in a v sign. They’re like tourists on a safari. But the minute your mom sees you, she stops posing and grins. “Mom! Dad-”

“Have you lost weight?!” Your dad wheezes dramatically. “Have they not been feeding you well here?!”

Your mom lifts up two totes full of tupperware. “Good thing we brought food with us! Home cooked meals from yours truly. There’s meat and rice and noodles.”

“That's a lot-”

“Some of it’s for Yoonji too!” Her eyes sparkle with interest. “Now where is that girl that you've been talking about?!”

Your dad laughs. “Your new best friend! Bestest roommate in the whole world. And here I thought I would forever stay as your best friend.”

“I can't leave without meeting her.” Your mother pushes your dad’s disappointed face out of the way, gaining your attention again. “We heard so much about her. I am so excited to see what kind of person took our sweetpea’s heart.”

They've always been like this. No matter what you do in life, even if you become a rich and successful CEO, the new Steve Jobs or a world renowned stripper, they’ll always make you feel like a little girl from the countryside. “When are you guys going?”

Your mother puts her hands on her hips. “Telling us to leave already? The audacity!”

“We’re only dropping by briefly.” Your dad laughs. “That cousin of yours is being chased by some of those ol’ loan sharks. We gotta travel half across town to beat some sense into him.”

Your eyes double, taken back by the news. It sounds serious but he said it so casually. “W-...will you be okay?! You want me to call the police?”

“Nonsense.” Your mother spits out. “Those loan sharks are your dad’s old friends from way back in...what was it?”

“High school.”

“Right. And that cousin of yours is puny. What’s he going to do? Step on our toes? But stop avoiding the subject! Where is this best friend of yours? I want to meet her before I go.”

“She’s busy.”

“What?” Your mother’s mouth opens large enough to a fly to die in. “Certainly not busy enough to not meet us, right? It’s not like we’re here everyday to visit you.”

Why must they be so relentless? “Yoon-”

“Y/N!” The familiar timbre voice ricocheting around the vacant grounds sends a chill up your spine. Your neck cranks around, already sensing the impending doom.

“Oh.” Your mother gasps again. “Is that your best friend?”

“It’s a man?!” Your father immediately and instinctively puffs out his chest as if he’s preparing to put on a facade of protection. “You never said it was a boy-”

“He’s handsome and cute.” A whisper leaves your mother’s lips, eyes following after the person whose coming closer and closer. “How did you do it, Y/N? He’s a bit on the short side but capable looking.” As Yoongi comes near, her irises light up like the galaxy's starlight has pooled in them. “You struck it big, Y/N! You’ve won the lottery!”

She turns to her husband, arms in the air. “She’s won the lottery!”

You thank the heavens and every deity that exists that no one’s around to be witness to your embarrassing parents. “We haven’t even met him yet!” Your father says spitefully. “Don’t be excited!”

“Don’t scare him away.” She commands, poking his shoulder with a pout. “Our daughter already does a good enough job scaring people away. Remember when she threw dirt at that neighborhood boy, Ricky? He cried and never came over to play again. I don’t need you to do that either.”

The bickering between them doesn’t quiet down and so you shush them harshly.

Yoongi is in a white, ironed button up. His top is tucked into his black dress pants and his hair is neat, face freshly washed. “Nice to meet you.” As he approaches, while still catching his breath, he bows his head. “Good afternoon, Mr. L/N and Mrs. L/N.”

“And you are?”

“Min Yoongi.” He lifts up his head, giving a gentle smile as his pupils flicker to you. “I’m Y/N’s good friend.”

“You’re Y/N’s friend?” Your mother fakes a shocked inhale. “The one we’ve heard about so much? Why it’s such an honour to meet you! We must’ve misheard on the phone then. It wasn’t Yoonji. It was Yoongi. I am so sorry for the mistake. You know how phone static can be, especially in the area I live in.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

Who is this person. You don’t know him at all. Where’s the grumpy Yoongi that ripped away your blankets and kicked your ass this morning?

Your father clears his throat. “You look like a strong, dapper, young fellow. Healthy?”

“Very.”

“Good.” Your mother interjects. “Please take care of our daughter. She can be so clumsy.”

You open your mouth to retort but Yoongi’s beaten you to it. “I will.” His arms are behind his back, shoulders broad and he wears the perfect smile, corners upturned pleasantly.

“Hold on a second…” You drag him away, clutching his wrist and walking ten steps from your parents. Your mother looks satisfied and your father is curious. Yoongi looks just as amused. You want to tear your hair out by the fistful. “What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi gives you a pout and he blinks, tilting his head. His expression reads ‘what do you mean?’ as if you’re attacking him for no reason whatsoever. You know he’s bluffing innocence. Min Yoongi is as far from being a little lamb as you are from being an evil dragon. “I told you I wanted to meet your parents.”

“As Yoonji! Not like this!”

“No. Exactly like this. I want to meet them as Yoongi.”

“But...why?”

“Because.” His face is unreadable, an intricate set of codes that your mind can’t analyze. He simply walks back to your parents, joining into their conversation and you drag yourself to him.

“What’s your major? What do your parents do? What do your job prospects look like?” She leans in, “are you thinking of marrying my daughter?”

“Mom! He’s just a friend!”

Yoongi tells your parents his major, what his own parents do, his family background and a vague outline of his future plans. “And I’m not sure if your daughter has any feelings for me.”

“But you might?”

“Mom!” You scream out in exasperation, cheeks puffing out and in a shade of fuschia. She responds ‘alright, alright’ and eases back. His eyes have pinned on you and he laughs at your reaction. You stare back at him incredulously. Yoongi’s so kind to them, understanding and patient that it boggles your brain.

Your mother soon asks to be escorted to the bathroom. When you notice that your father’s standing with his arms crossed next to Yoongi, you open your mouth. But upon having no solutions, you give up. As you walk away from the scene, you can only hope that your roommate won’t say something wrong and they won’t break out into a fight and kill each other.

“Oh ho ho…” Your father catches Yoongi’s eyes watching you. “You like that silly daughter of mine?”

“I uh-”

“You can’t fool me! I know those eyes anywhere! I was once a young boy too, you know! I’m aware of your intentions.”

It’s the first time that Yoongi’s ever been flustered and he shakes his head. “I...I don’t want her just for her bod-”

“You love her.” Your father doesn’t apprehend what the other man was trying to say. And Yoongi’s so thankful that he never said it out fully.

He replies without hesitation.

“I do.”

“Well I ain’t gonna give my blessings so easily. Hmph!” The middle aged person looks away childishly, reminiscent of how you can act sometimes. Yoongi looks up at him, blinking with his rounded orbs. His cheeks puff out and his lips naturally pout, a look that you’re weak for. “Don't look at me like that!”

It seems to work on your father as well.

“Like what, sir?”

“I can’t do it.” Your dad sighs tiredly, dropping his arms. Then, he smiles. “Did I play the role of a scary father well enough?” He pauses and then breathes out heavily. “Y/N’s our only child. We care about her. I hope you do too.”

“I do.”

“She’s probably giving you a hard time. Isn’t she?”

He answers in all honesty, “a little.”

“Then I don’t need to give you a hard time. You’re not a bad kid, kid. I can feel it.” He slaps his stomach. “Straight in my gut.”

Yoongi nods carefully. “Thanks?”

Then the two men find you running towards them at full speed, not wanting to miss out on what they’re discussing. You almost trip on your shoes and a rock but you catch yourself. Your dad chuckles and the younger man smiles at you. “I hope to see you sometime in the future.”

Yoongi looks at him and he continues, staring straight ahead. “The holidays or maybe Thanksgiving? Come visit.”

//

It feels strange.

Many things have been odd lately but walking alongside your best friend around campus as Yoongi and not Yoonji tops the list. It’s the way it makes you feel nervous, not from potentially getting caught, but from the way he looks at you every so often. And he doesn’t just look. His eyes linger. Yoongi gazes at you.

It’s the way you’ve fully become aware of the height difference, the low timbre of his voice when he murmurs to you, his calloused fingertips when it grazes against your skin. It’s the way butterflies have swooned in your stomach, your heart has picked up its pace and you’re hyper aware of each movement, hitching your breath. It’s the way his hands are larger than yours, secure when he catches your palm, holding it. Yet, like the way you know him, Yoongi’s acted like nothing’s happened, looking away and clearing his throat. At the same time, his fingers intertwine through yours and your grip tightens.

It feels like you're dancing on a line.

Not sure what to exactly call your relationship. Not sure how you feel about him. How he feels about you.

“Thank you.” You bite down the feeling of disappointment when he lets go and shuts the door to your dorm room. “I really appreciate you being nice to my parents. You didn’t really need to do all that.”

“Of course I would do it for you.” He scoffs, tugging off his shoes.

“You’re not really obligated to do that much for me.” You swallow hard, back facing him as you stand between both beds. “We’re only best friends.”

There’s a long silence.

When you turn around, the dim yellow light at the entryway and the glow of the street lamps outside seeping in, provide you with enough luminescence to see the frown and hurt written across his features. “Yoongi?”

The tension is thick. It feels like you’re suffocating, wrapped around in close intimacy, not knowing what to call the person who stands before you. Despite being a meter away, he’s gotten too close. Since when did this happen?

His voice croaks out in a pained murmur - “Why are you so stupidly dense?”

“What?”

“I’m insanely-” He takes one step closer. “ -attracted to you.” Another step closer. “So much so that it drives me crazy.” One more step. “And I don’t want to just kiss you.” He takes the last step, standing right in front of you. Yoongi’s a mere hair away. His soft whispers are deafening, echoing in the hollows of your mind. “I want so much more.”

For the first time in your life, you’re a witness to Yoongi being on the verge of tears.

You can finally see him. “I do want you."

“Do you want me because I’m Yoonji, your best friend?”

“No-”

“Because I’m your roommate who happens to be a male?” He chokes up and blinks past his foggy eyes, looking up at the ceiling before at you again. “Just because you’re attracted to me? Would any other man aside from me do? Or do you want me as Min Yoongi?”

“I-”

“And what about Jimin?” He chuckles breathlessly. “It’s so annoying. You’re annoying.”

“What?”

“Every time that guy is brought up, you forget about everything.” For a split second, you would think Yoongi’s acting irrationally jealous but you know him too well to think that. He’s genuinely hurt. “About us.”

“You wouldn’t be longing for another person if you wanted me for me.” Yoongi stares at you, his warm brown irises pleading for an honest answer, for you to open your heart up. “Do you want me, Y/N?”

“And not just me but as a boyfriend, someone that I can hold and love openly. Because if it’s you….I don’t think I can handle anything less than that.”

The explosion has detonated. The final words have been spoken. White noise plays in your ear. Yoongi steps back, leaving the room. You’re left with the pieces of your own emotions. His heart sewn, truest and most sincere declaration permeating into your skin.

Time has stopped.

//

Yoongi doesn’t return. You’re not sure where he stays or where he goes, especially when he’s not in the form of Yoonji and could become easily caught. You don’t get a wink of sleep that night either, but when morning comes, you decide to leave. If Yoongi wasn’t coming back because you were around, then you’ll make sure to disappear.

“God, it’s so difficult being me.” Seokjin opens the door, shutting it behind him. He puckers his lips in his handheld mirror, smiling his dazzling grin before the reflection finds a small curled up person in the corner, hair over their face. He screeches, jumping like a flailing fish while he spins around. “Mother fucke- I mean….Y/N?”

Your eyes peek from the curtain of your locks. “Hey….Seokjin.”

“Are you crying?” The narcissistic, school idol puts down his mirror, collapsing onto the floor in front of you. “Do you need me to sing to make you feel better?”

“No!” You jolt your hands out instantly. “I...I’m fine.”

“Where’s Yoonji?” He looks around, scanning the premise but the somber classroom is completely empty.

A whimper leaves your voice, “why?”

“You’re always with her.” He retorts with a huff before running a hand through his hair. “And aside from me, the best looking one in this school, the second in line for looks has to be her. I can’t deny Yoonji’s attractiveness.” He leans in closer with a sly smirk. “Don’t you think we’d make such a perfect couple?”

You giggle at his blind confidence and he seems to have an ego boost from your laughter.

Jin leans in even closer to you. “You want to hear my vocal training? I can go up to really high pitches.”

“I’m okay.”

He nods and inclines back. “Do you think I’m attractive, Y/N? Attractive enough for Yoonji?”

“Well.” For now your mind has been taken off the situation at hand and you decide to entertain Seokjin for a while. “She’s hard to impress.”

“Look at these rings.” He lifts both his hands and flutters his fingers. “Do you know how wealthy I am? How expensive these pieces are? One thousand dollars.” He slips one off his thumb, placing it in front of you. “Two thousand.” He places a silver band down. “Three thousand.” He places yet another and another, naming the prices off the top of his head.

You wonder if he’s insane. If he’s just saying random numbers out loud or if he’s truly that careless to be taking them off. A thought flashes through your mind that if it were Yoonji, she’d grab the jewelry and book it to a store, cashing them in without batting an eyelash.

“You know…” Jin finally looks up, meeting your eyes. “You’re really pretty up close.” You visibly gulp, questioning where this was coming from. The college boy even leans in, flickering his pupils to your lips and for a moment, you’re afraid he’s going to kiss you. But then he smiles.

“I’m prettier though.”

You scoff lightly and he grins, squeaky laughter leaving his mouth like a child’s toy. Seokjin slips back on his rings and he looks up at you again. “I know why you were crying.”

“You do?”

He pauses for the dramatic effect and then breathes in sharply, whipping his head back. “You were crying because you realized you could never be as beautiful as I, Kim Seokjin, the very best.”

“That’s-”

You never got to spoke much to Jin but he was not unlike the others. Very bold and shameless but also very bizarre, dare you even say….weirdo.

“It’s okay. I understand what it’s like. I’ve cried in front of the mirror before too. I asked how could someone be so gorgeous. Let me show you what I mean.” He suddenly bolts up and in the dark empty classroom with only sunlight coming in through the windows, he slowly walks backwards. “The moonwalk.” Then he twirls. “The spin.” His hips have a seizure. “Hip thrust.”

The odd man reminds you of the type of person your mom constantly told you to stay away from as a child. “Bam.” He does finger guns and you fake an expression of distaste. “Don’t lie to yourself. I can see you smiling, girl.” Jin flips his hair back. “I know I’m good, you don’t have to deny it.”

He takes your hand and hauls you up, making you stand on your feet. And you’re about to thank him but he suddenly pulls out your palm, ripping a pen out from his pocket. “If you wanted my attention, you should’ve just asked for it instead of stalking me and waiting for a chance like this.”

“I wasn’t-” You’re interjected by the ticklish feeling, pen tip gliding on your skin.

“Here’s my number.” He gives you back your limb and you stare down at the scribbles. “Call me anytime.” Jin winks and he opens the door again after his spectacular performance, feeling good about himself. “Oh, make sure Yoonji gets it too.”

You nod stiffly. “Okay.”

As you make your way to the bathroom, ready to scrub off the inscription, you ponder if Jin was truly that strange or if he was trying to make you feel better. If it’s the latter then he succeeded.

“Hoseok?” He’s leaning against the wall, staring out the window with tear droplets cascading down his face. He doesn’t notice you until you shake him. “Are you alright-”

“Oh. It’s just you.” The poignant man wipes away his tears. “I was reading this poem and it churned the deepest emotions within my soul. It touched me to the very core. Open your ears, let me read it for you.”

You can’t walk away. Not when he’s opening his mouth and beginning. “The Dumb Girl.”

And immediately you feel insulted by the title. Was this a personal attack?!

“Hey-”

“Mute. Tongue twisted, tongue tied.” He sighs helplessly, shaking his head. “She could not give an answer. Like the spins of a ballet dancer. Yes. No. Yes. No. Time was let flow. Until he cannot wait. Left it to fate. And thus her lover, fell for a dancer.”

“Heartbroken for she had not spoken. Regret like the cold sweat of a burnt out cigarette.” Hoseok’s voice increases in volume and passion, not caring about the broken cracks in his voice. “Forget; she tried! Forget; she screamed! Forget; she desired! But she could not. For the arms that once wrapped around her, the sweet whispers of the monsieur, were all far from being a blur.”

“Mute she was. Regrets became her laws. For time never takes on pause.”

Hoseok finishes and you’re on the verge of tears. Right when you were about to forget about the whole incident with Yoongi and your friendship now standing on a thin line, the turmoil inside, the answers you hadn’t given...they all come tumbling back.

“Beautiful poem, isn’t it?” Hoseok muses with a look of melancholy. Then, he decides to rip out the entire page of his literature book. You wonder if he was trying to look artistic. If so, he was failing.

“Take it.” Hoseok clutches your hand, putting the paper between your fingers. “It looks like you need beauty in your life at this moment.” He taps the back of your back, urging you forward while he disappears.

You take a hard left, exiting out of the hallway before someone can see you break down.

Unfortunately, you aren’t so lucky today. It seems like you’ve been having terrible luck; horoscope gone bad, tarot reader pulling out the death card and black cats hissing at you.

When you’re making your escape, none other than Jeon Jungkook catches you and follows. “It’s not like I care but it would be annoying if I went about my day and thought about it later.” He mutters under his breath, opening the door to find you sitting on the edge of the emergency staircase. “Hey you!”

You turn around, sniffling and he softens his tone. Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, letting the door close behind him. He takes two steps and slumps down, sitting beside you. The man rubs his palms together and takes one peek; confused at the way you rub your eyes, sniffle and your shoulders that tremble.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing.”

“Liar.” He calls out instantly, voice ricocheting through the empty staircase. “Tell me the truth, alright? I don’t want to waste any of my time. I got things to do….just say it.”

“I-...” You downcast your head to your hands in your lap. “I’m an idiot. I hurt my best friend all this time and didn’t know. I was blind! And I drove them away and now they’re gone!”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re not an idiot. But maybe you are for calling yourself one.” You whimper, holding back from crying and Jungkook rests his chin in his hand. “They’ll come back.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Cause you’re you.” He scoffs again, redirecting his brown irises to look at your face. He seems to study it for awhile until he breaks the silence. “You look ugly when you’re upset.”

He peels off his jacket and drapes it over your head, covering you from potential eyes that could bore into you if they were to open the door. And with the fabric, you’re no longer shaking or shivering. “Stop crying. It makes you look even uglier.”

“Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me.” He coughs awkwardly. “It’s just burdensome to see someone cry. But if you want to show me your gratitude, hook me up with Yoonji. Of course, it’s not like I care about her either but you know, I would be bothered if I knew I didn’t give her a chance.”

You giggle behind the jacket, soaking in the warm moment of sitting next to Jungkook on a stairway, listening to his peculiar comforting words.

//

“Y/N!” Someone calls your name and you smile, swiveling around. The jacket’s still draped on your head but more so as a hat or hood at this point, revealing your face. Jimin’s angelic smile materializes in front of you and you dwell in his radiance.

“Hey, Jimin. How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?” He asks with the same politeness, crinkled crescent eyes and a faint dimple marking one side of his cheek. He’s a celestial being, sweet and kind, adorable and beautiful. The gentle smile and tender aura in his brown-honey hued irises could cure diseases.

He’s the love of your life, every trait you could ever wish for in a lifelong companion. The wishes you had made upon stars as a child, the rubbing of lamps and imaginations of genies, the other side of the wedding aisle - he’s what you dreamed of. “I’m good too.”

“Have you seen Yoonji?”

But never once has he spared you an ounce of attention.

“I don’t know.”

Never once has Jimin looked at you twice, considered you different from the strangers in his life.

“Oh. Okay!” He begins walking away, waving to you. “I’ll see you later then.”

How could you have been so blind?

Even if Jimin is the manifestation of all your teenage daydreams and the epiphany of the boy you drew in the corner of your crumpled homework pages, he isn’t the one. He has always been and always will be the person you were merely infatuated with, the crush and nothing more.

You don’t love Jimin.

“Hey! You!” A shout makes him turn. He smiles at the person running towards him.

“I was looking for you, Yoonji!” Jimin perks up and lolling his head. “Actually, I was going to ask you, and I hope you don’t mind….where your youngest aunt’s beauty salon is.” The cute boy pouts and he stands on his toes, swaying back and forth nervously. He pinches a few strands of his blonde hair and looks upwards with his rounded orbs. “I’m in need of a haircut.”

“Do you know where Y/N is?!” Yoongi hyperventilates, having run all the way from the dormitory to campus when he didn’t find you in the room. “Jimin!”

“Oh! I just saw her.” He hums out with a smile. “But your aunt...Yoonhee….”

“Fine! Fine!” Yoongi gives it up, furiously taking off his backpack to rip a page animalistically out of his notebook. It’s completely jagged but he doesn’t care as he uncaps the pen with his mouth, scribbling out an address onto the sheet, using his propped up knee as a table.

It’s a very unladylike posture and you would certainly scold him if you were here since he’s in a skirt and all.

“Thank you so much!” Jimin launches himself over to the other, wrapping his arms around as his hands holds onto the paper tightly. “You’re the best Yoonji!”

Yoongi cringes and peels him away. “Tell me where Y/N is.”

//

It’s embarrassing. You feel humiliated.

There’s a number graffitied on your hand, the ink completely smudged. In your other hand is a ripped page of a badly written poem. There’s a random jacket over your head, draping you like it’s a makeshift umbrella, except it’s a sunny day outside. And your cheeks are tear stained.

Yoongi holds back a laugh. Your face reads: ‘Why did you leave me?! Look what happened!!’

“Y/N-”

“You had your turn!” You pick up the volume in your voice, pointing at him. “Now it’s mine.”

The seams of his lips meet, silenced at your abrupt loudness. It’s very rare to see you act aggressively. Though, it’s not menacing in the least bit. There’s still a pout at your lips.

“You will always be my best friend. No matter what. It’ll never change. One day, you might not be my roommate anymore but friendship lasts forever!” When you realize people are staring at your shouting confessions, you quiet down. Yoongi chuckles and you skedaddle closer to him.

“Bros before hoes, sisters before misters, friends for life.”

“Isn’t this embarrassing?” He leans down to whisper in your ear, matching your height. Your entire face answers his sentiment but you grumble and he chuckles. “Continue…”

“I love Yoonji. My female friend, the one I met on the very first day.” You look right at him, letting a single smile slip across your features. “But I love Yoongi as well.”

“I’ll accept you for whoever you are. My best friend…...and my boyfriend.”

The words sink in. There’s a long three second, three heartbeats that passes by. Yoongi blinks at you, once and then twice. You wonder if you’ll have to repeat yourself. But then he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease and he spins around. “Finally!”

You laugh with him. To outsiders, it may look like two close friends sharing a happy celebration or rejoicing together in a joyful achievement. But to you and to Yoongi, your dearest friend, this marks the beginning of something special, a change that will no longer make you the dumb girl who was blinded and could never give an answer, who let regret become her laws.

Time begins to move again.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-

Yoongi whines and in a disgruntled motion, reaches out his arm to shut the alarm clock off. As he’s about to drift off again, you shuffle the covers around, unattaching yourself from his grasps. His lids slowly peek open and you’re staring at him with a dazzling smile, one that’s too excited for the early morning and so silly that it makes his heart stutter. You press a light kiss to his cheek and leap up into the air.

“Time to get up!”

He would complain. He would yell at how that damn alarm clock always scares the shit out of him every morning and sounds like a war siren, making him want to smash it on the ground or throw it out the window. He would curse on how you moved too much, woke him up when he didn’t want to wake up, how the sudden absence of your warm body now makes him feel cold. He would grumble of how you’re way too happy in the mornings and how he had to face your morning breath. But still…

You kissed him. So, he’s not really going to complain at all.

“Fine.” Every muscle in his body aches but he still gets up anyway. “Good morning.”

Your silly smile still shines brightly. “Morning!”

The daily routine doesn’t differ that much from when you were solely two friends and you called him by the name of ‘Yoonji’. Though a few things have changed. Very much so.

“Can you stop looking?” You huff out, feeling your bare backside being penetrated with his eyes. A long time ago, he would’ve ran away when you chased him in your naked glory, when you even exposed an inch of skin. He might’ve let his eyes wander once, only to catch a glimpse. But now, he was full on staring. And you could feel his pupils and the heavy weight of his breaths. “Are you actually getting aroused-”

“I’m disappointed.”

His sharp syllables slap you across the face. Your fingers that were buttoning up the ruffled blouse halt. Your neck swings around so fast, it might’ve snapped. “What?”

Yoongi smirks. The boy with the sleepy eyes and disheveled hair, has the audacity to laugh at your shocked state when he, himself, looks like a mess...an adorable mess, if you were being honest.

“I’m disappointed in myself.” He continues to smirk, standing up and taking two long strides to you. “I can’t believe I keep forgetting how pretty you are.”

If you were in your sane mind, maybe you’d gag at the greasy line. But when it’s Yoongi...when it’s him looking at you like that with such soft eyes and a fond smile, your heart can only pathetically run faster as if into the arms of the man you see before your eyes.

You’re whipped. And so is Yoongi.

He kisses you briefly on the lips, a simple peck and then he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Too bad I’m prettier.”

There’s the Yoongi you know.

Even to this day, as you’re pulling up a pencil skirt, adjusting your cute outfit in the mirror, you can’t help but let your eyes flicker over. He’s always had better legs than you and his skin has been clearer, his pretty lashes-

“Can you stop staring?” He lifts up his brow, chuckling at the way you’re licking your lips while staring at his crotch covered by a thin fabric of his boxers. When you realize where your irises have instinctively traveled, you let out a ‘hmph’, twisting on your toes to go into the bathroom.

He joins you a few second after, taking the toothbrush with the set toothpaste that you prepared at the same time as your own. You both brush your teeth in synchronized motions without speaking, blinking the sleep away from your eyes. Then like children, you fight for the use of the sink, spitting it out and rinsing your mouth while trying to wash your face properly.

“You don’t need to impress anyone anymore.” Yoongi blatantly ogles at your ass as you’re leaning against the counter, getting closer to the mirror. He’s pissing in the background and you wrinkle your nose.

“I still have to look presentable.” You cover your dark circles with concealer, skipping out on a whole bunch of products, the bottles with thick pigments abandoned. You used to cake up your face, covering each flaw and blemish in case you’d run into Jimin but now things are different.

Your skin can finally breathe - you don’t have five coats of mascara on, a centimeter-thick layer of foundation on your face and a procedure that lasted up to an hour. You finally look like yourself.

“Are you using hair rollers?” You look at him through the mirror in disbelief.

Yoongi has them in his hair, the bangs of his wing curling with the blue roller. “So what? I need to look presentable as well.” Without a care, he takes the blow dryer and whisks it around the strands.

You scoff, hating how he looks so beautiful without even needing to try.

“Done! How do I look?” You're standing at the entryway, slipping on your shoes and ready to leave. You pucker your lips again, checking that you applied the rose shade evenly.

Yoongi blinks at you, once, twice with his rounded and innocent eyes. He tilts his head to the side and when you’re about to open your mouth to tell him ‘nevermind’, he suddenly grabs a hold of your cheeks, pulling you in and kissing you. You gasp before reacting back to him, letting your shoulders lose the tension, melting into his grasps. After a few seconds, he lets go of you and the freshly applied lipstick now stains his own lips.

“That was expensive, you know.” You whimper with a pout, the hue now smeared and missing from certain corners, lips swollen from how it was before.

“Kill two birds with one stone.” Yoongi hums in satisfaction, taking his pinky finger to spread the colour, pursing his mouth. A heat flushes up your face when you realize that he’ll be walking around nonchalantly as gorgeous Yoonji, the pink of his lips directly transferred from your own.

The evidence of your smooch session will be presented to the world and no one will know but the two of you. At best if someone does notice, they’ll think you shared the product like any other friends would. Though, it’s not in the innocent way that friends typically share. “Let’s go.”

You’ve never been happier.

Perhaps it’s the way that your love is returned, that someone cherishes you the way you cherish them. You’re not chasing after someone, helplessly hoping, pinning for their affections. Maybe you’re just in a new stage of a fluttering romance, allowing your heart to swoon over simple words. Your world is covered in rose tinted glasses.

But every time Yoongi holds your hand underneath the desk in class, how he twines his fingers through yours boldly when you walk through halls, steals glimpses of you across from the table at the library - it makes you feel warm...blissful...happy.

And it’s not just because it’s a new romance, not due to your feelings being returned, not that anything will make you this way from your rose coloured universe.

It’s because it’s Yoongi.

“I think I’d still love you if you were Yoonji.”

“Yeah?” He smiles down at his papers, one hand using to rest his head in while the other holds the pencil.

“As long as you’re you…” It’s a bit embarrassing to say it aloud. Hence, you keep your own eyes on the lines between your textbook. “...and I realized that we weren’t just best friends, the outcome would’ve been the same.”

“Hey. You have something on your chin.” He interrupts and you urgently look up at him then down, trying to reach your hand to the skin.

“I do?”

Yoongi nods and then he reaches over the table, grabbing your chin into his hand to plant a kiss right at your lips. You’re just as stunned when he pulls away. “It’s gone.”

A few people who had caught the action giggles and whistles at the sight. The librarian sharply tells them to hush. Yoongi pretends nothing’s happened, focusing back on his studies.

You blush from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, wondering how you’ll ever be able to study with him in a mile radius from you.

//

Your best friend-slash-boyfriend has never been known for being sweet. In fact, your roommate has been known for being bitter. Of course, you’ve always been aware of the underlying moments, the softness underneath the prickly skin. And he’s become even more gentle to you ever since the relationship has been officially established.

His name could become sugar for all you cared.

But Yoongi was still merciless, unyielding and harsh when he needed to be.

“Sto-...p hold...ing back your-…. noises.” He scolds through breathless pants. The both of you had been making out for the past twenty minutes, a string of saliva broken as he parts away from you, swollen lips to show the intensity.

You’re not sure how you got into this position, with Yoongi leaning against the headboard and you, perched on his muscular thigh, straddling him. Before this, there’s only been petting, with his hands travelling up the expanse of your skin, groping at your breasts past your bra and your fingers twisted through the strands of his hair. But today, after stumbling into the dorm room from classes and from hour long lingering stares, the pair of you have difficulty holding back.

“But the others…” You inhale to fill your lungs. “They’ll hear us.”

He smirks. “Let them hear.”

The feeling of his calloused fingertips dancing across your smooth skin sends shivers to your spine. He kisses you again before moving down to your neck, marking it in black and blue hues with hard sucks. You let a strangled moan out, trying to keep quiet for the thin walls. Yoongi gropes and touches you, examining each inch, searching and feeling. You move your hands down to his thighs, thankfully exposed with his skirt that’s now hiked up as well as yours.

Without realizing and with his hand squeezing your ass, hot mouth moving down to your collarbone, you begin rocking yourself against Yoongi’s thigh.

It promptly jolts pleasure into your skin, fulfilling your throbbing core. The thin fabric of your panties is the only thing that covers the direct skin-to-skin contact and it’s already completely drenched, molding to the shape of the lips and folds. “Fuck.”

He squeezes harder and rests his forehead on your shoulder, relishing in the feeling of your wetness sliding on his skin, how you’re getting yourself off using him but without him needing to move a single centimeter. Yoongi clenches his muscle and shifts it slightly, making you whine louder.

Your boyfriend braces himself for another second, ignoring the tent in his underwear before his hand finds the dips in your waist, halting you. “We should stop.”

“Why?” You immediately cry out, embracing him and pulling him flush against your warmed body. “Do...do you really want to stop?”

“Because…” Yoongi exhales staggeringly. “I-...I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But I’m ready. I’m ready, Yoongi. Please.”

When he asks you again if you’re sure, confirming if what he’s hearing is right and he tucks a strand of hair away from your face, you nod and reply with a firm ‘yes’. He smiles and kisses you again. “I want you to be loud. Don’t be afraid to hold back your sounds. I want to hear you.”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He praises, smoothing out your hair in gentle motions. Then, something flickers in his eyes and he rips off your blouse. You laugh at how eager he is and you take the opportunity to strip him of his shirt, disposing it to the ground where the wig lays.

Your lips meet his and he lays a hand on your lower back, making you lay down as he removes your skirt and underwear along with his own. “This is so embarrassing.” You cover your face up before moving it down to your crotch and arm covering your exposed chest.

“You know I’ve seen you get changed? Like probably a hundred times already.”

“Well...It’s different!”

“Is it?” He smiles, positioning himself over you.

“Yes!” You stammer out, looking into his eyes and pouting. “You’re...touching me.”

Yoongi moves another piece of hair away from your face, gazing at you lovingly. “Which is okay, right?”

“It’s okay.” You echo back. “But…” Yoongi pauses at that word and becomes serious. “I’d like to touch you for a change.”

He takes a sigh of relief before sitting back on the mattress, hands balancing his leaning body. Your boyfriend smirks at you. “Go ahead. Be my guest.”

You swallow hard, sitting up and feeling his stare bore holes through your skin. Your hand shakes as you drag down the remaining article of clothing on him, throwing the boxers to the ground. Then, you’re met with a red leaking cock - the one from your dreams, quiet literally. But he’s much bigger than you anticipated.

You slowly wrap your hands around him, a feather light touch and Yoongi seems to become eager, twitching every time your skin makes contact with his. “It’s alright. Like this.” He wraps your hand around yours, setting a pace up and down his length, pumping him before he lets go.

You marvel at his member, how it’s been hidden all the time and you’ve never seen it before until this very moment. The precum is already spread across, making your movements more fluid. His girth feels thick in your hand and you mindlessly mumble out your thoughts. “I don’t think it’s going to fit, Yoongi.”

“Fuck.” He throws his head back, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight. You peel your eyes away from his cock to admire his expression, how he’s completely withering in your hands. It feels powerful, amazing and you speed up, having a sudden desire to lick it.

“Are you going to cum?”

“No!” Yoongi suddenly flashes his eyes open, frowning at you. “Why would I be finished so quickly? It’s just the way you said that-”

“Can I put you in my mouth?” The minute the request leaves your throat, he shuts up real quick. Yoongi stares at you, his adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps. You decide to tease him further. “But I wouldn’t want you to finish right away….so….”

“I’ll spank you.” His orbs darken, threatening you.

You scoff at him. “No, you wouldn’t.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. There are sparks, each of you challenging each other. Without answering or retorting, he suddenly lurches out, flipping you onto your stomach.

“You know, I want to take care of you but you make it so damn difficult, Y/N. Why do you have to be such a little brat sometimes and test me?” He makes a firm command, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling in your ears. “Raise your hips.”

You comply and he spanks you once, his palm kissing the skin of your ass in one motion. It’s not too hard but not too light either as if he’s testing the waters out and your reaction to it. “Do you know how long I had to go with you walking around naked?”

Yoongi spanks you for a second time, a bit harder and leaving you tingling. You whimper with pleasure into the pillow, muffling the sound. “How many times I had to jerk it off in the shower because of your teasing?”

At this point, you’ve become hot and bothered. The slickness of your core is beginning to make its way down your thigh. “I was in there every single day for way too long because of you.” He spanks you for a third time, harder and making you moan.

“Yoongi.”

His palm massages the area, soothing the redness and easing the sting. He doesn’t want to push you too far when it’s the first time. And so, he flips you over again, appearing over you and caging you in with his arms. “You’re lucky I like you so much.”

He descends, becoming closer to your throbbing clit. “Can I?” His brown eyes meet yours.

You hum. “You can.” Your boyfriend laps around your folds, sucking on the part you need him most, soft lips on your clit. You moan louder, shutting your eyes tight with your back arching off the mattress, head pushing against the pillow. Yoongi hums in contentment from your response and the vibrations hitches your breath. “It feels so good, Yoongi.”

He licks and sucks, using the warmth and wet muscle of his tongue to spread you apart, going deeper. Your voice increases without even realizing, hands buried in his hair, forcing him closer.

“I’m going to use my fingers.” Yoongi pants, mouth drenched from your juices and making you go bright pink.

“Wait.” You hold his locks before he can dive in again. “Is it going to hurt?”

His blown out pupils soften for a second, half-lidded eyes staring back into yours. “I promise I’ll go slow.” The pad of his finger run up and down your folds, collecting your fluid and with caution, he gently pushes in. Yoongi checks for your reaction and when you nod, he begins to pump in and out with his one finger.

It’s a stretch, a pleasant one that is different from your own hand. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” You manage breathlessly and Yoongi connects his mouth back, sucking again. The tension builds and builds in your lower stomach, the invisible knot tightening. He increases with another finger and you almost burst. You’re nearly there. “Yoongi. Yoongi.” He knows by the trembling of your thighs cinched around his head that you’re close. As much as he loves hearing his name being sobbed out of your mouth, he detaches himself from you.

You cry out from the loss but he comforts you, running a hand through your hair. “Are you okay so far?”

“Yes! Yes. I’m good.” The tears prick at your eyes and though it’s kind of him to keep asking, you’re becoming impatient. “Just please. Hurry?”

“Condoms, condoms!” Yoongi hops to his feet and nearly trips. You giggle at how oddly clumsy he is, frantic like you’ve never seen before from the usual calm demeanor. His hair is ruffled, panic set in his expression, completely bare and naked and vulnerable in front of you.

After a good second of staring at him in a disarray, you finally tell him. “It’s under the bed.”

Yoongi falls down onto his knees, searching for the box with his outstretched arm. When he finds it, he grins and takes one of the hundred packages out. He suddenly is reminded of the first time you met him, how you entered the dorm in confusion and nervousness, spilling a hundred condoms onto the floor. The endearing memory makes him smile.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

He leaps up again after securing the rubber, pouncing at you. You laugh, rolling around until he has you pinned underneath him. Yoongi coos at you, making sure everything’s alright and you reassure him before the head of his cock is brushing against your folds, making you two let out a sigh. He pushes in gently, groaning at your heat and the tightness but still holding back, making sure that you’re taking it well. You pause for a bit until you’re ready to urge him on and he bottoms out.

“You’re so good.” He kisses your forehead. “Y/N.”

Your arms wrap around his back and he gently pushes your knees against your abdomen, causing you to feel him at a deeper angle. You let out a whimper, telling him to move and he complies.

“I wish I could push my cum back into you. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He plunges in deep before withdrawing, setting a slow pace.

You nod against his shoulder. “I-I would.”

“You’d be filled all the way up, spilling but I’d make sure that it would stay in. As much as it could and I’d send you off, make you walk around campus with your cunt filled with my cum.” His dirty words whisper sweetly into your ear and it sends scorching heat to where you’re connected. The pain has outweighed the pleasure, causing you to become less stiff, enjoying the feeling and the moment, Yoongi’s touch that you crave for.

His sweaty hair sticks to his skin, an expression of deep concentration and a grunt that comes from his throat when he picks up the pace. “I’d like to see the look on Park Jimin’s face then. Or Kim Taehyung’s.”

Yoongi becomes rougher, faster and you gasp, clawing at him. “You...you should..do it.”

“Maybe next..time.” He smiles. “Wouldn’t want you to get pregnant. But I’m sure you’d carry my babies, real well, huh?”

“They’d…” You have no idea what you’re talking about, how you managed to move on to such a serious conversation about children but the thought of carrying Yoongi’s, makes you twist underneath him. “...be cute kids.”

“Damn straight, they would be.” His words are both filthy and soothing, dripping with honey and sharp like a cutting edge. One second he’s talking about bending you over the desk, making you cry and orgasm so hard you won’t even know your own name. The next, he’s murmuring about having children with you, how he hopes they’ll be like you and how he could do this again and again for the rest of his life if you want to be with him.

“After this, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you.” Yoongi’s hot breath fans across the bruises on your neck. “I won’t be able to touch anyone else but you. We’d be like rabbits or dogs in heat. You’d carry a litter of my pups, how does that sound?”

“Cute.” You mewl out with a cry of his name when he hits a particular spot that makes your vision go blurry. “I..I like it.”

“I bet you do.” Yoongi forces himself up to kiss your lips. “Maybe some time in the future.”

Wait. Does that mean he actually wants to have kids with you?

The thought that has you smiling doesn’t last long when his hips begin to sputter against yours, going out of control, purely to reach both of your highs. Yoongi’s fingers move down, circling around your clit. You cry out for him and he goes even faster. “I’m going to cum.”

“Go ahead. You can do it.” With a soft encouragement, the tension and knot in your lower stomach snaps, your vision having spots as euphoria washes over. You’re in a daze for a good five seconds, almost losing consciousness from the overwhelming feeling. From your walls caving in, Yoongi also loses it, trying his best to draw out both your orgasms.

He collapses on top of you and when you tell him he’s too heavy, he rolls off.

“Are you okay? Was that okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” He eyes your bruises, patting your hair. You hum and he lays there with you, cuddling your body against his for a full minute, feeling like a pleasant eternity. As you’re about to drift off to sleep, let the exhaustion seep into your bones, Yoongi gets up and disposes the condom. Then, he collects you in his arms, carrying you bridal style.

“What? Where are we going?” You complain, eyes fluttering. Yoongi kicks down the bathroom door, lifting up the toilet seat and setting you down.

“Pee.” He instructs. “It’s good for you. You have to do it after sex or else you might get a UTI.”

You pout, listening to him and cringing when he stares at you as you release your bladder. “I can do it on my own….” You wipe yourself and flush. He says an ‘uh-huh’ but when you get up to the sink, the aches in your muscles and in your core scream out. You stagger and Yoongi chuckles, though he shuts up when you shoot him a glare.

After washing your hands with soap and drying them off, he lifts you up and sets you on the counter. Yoongi wipes you down and then wipes himself down, doing it with the utmost care, apologizing when you flinch from the feeling of overstimulation. Afterwards, he carries you back to bed.

You’re sure Yoongi’s just as tired as you are since he appears sleepy, rubbing his eyes and blinking hard. Nonetheless, he thoroughly completes the aftercare process when he grabs a shirt from his wardrobe, helping you put your sore arms through the holes of his shirt. You lay down as he tucks you in with him, pulling the covers up to your chins.

You mold yourself against him, nuzzling your kind boyfriend. “Thank you.”

Yoongi hums, letting you kiss him before the two of you sleep the night away.

//

Kim Taehyung skips with his feet, arms behind his back. After being trapped in his laboratory, staring at screens and monitors, now he had some free time. He had slept for a good amount of that time but there were still hours left where he could do anything of his choosing. Sadly, he had gone around looking for you but you were gone, not in your dormitory, not in the classrooms he peeked his head into….

It was peculiar. You and him had gone out a few times together to investigate Yoonji and Jimin. But bizarrely Jimin wasn’t going out with Yoonji anymore. Taehyung tried to wrap his head around it and when he asked his roommate, Jimin simply said that he found someone even more beautiful.

Anyways, now that Jimin was out of the way, Taehyung totally had a chance with Yoonji!

He’d definitely swoop that girl off her feet, make his move but when he looked for you to devise the next course of plans, get advice on what to do - he couldn’t find you nor your best friend.

Thus, he’s heading to the humongous library towards the abandoned romance section to see if there’s a book he can pick up; a guide on how to woo the ladies.

But what he hears at the back of the bookcases is...whimpering?

Like a detective, Taehyung pushes his lensless glasses closer up the bridge of his nose and stalks the sound. He gasps. This eyelashes bat back and forth when catches Yoonji’s backside and you - on your knees, face buried in your best friend’s crotch?!

The sound of his inhale draws attention and the both of you turn around. After a second, you peek your head out, eyes widening. “Taehyung?!” You look completely surprised and your cheeks are flushing. Yoonji, on the other hand, is completely unfazed.

“What were you-”

“My shirt was stuck in my skirt zipper.” Yoonji points to the silver zipper, lifting up the fabric sightly and flashing a bright smile. “Y/N was just helping me out.”

“Oh…” That makes sense. He nods and grins a boxy smile as he looks at you. “I was actually looking for you, Y/N! I need your help-”

Your best friend rests weight on one foot, leaning back and crossing his arms. “She’s busy.” He takes your hand and begins walking away. Taehyung nods and waves.

“I-I guess I’ll catch you later then…”

When Taehyung’s out of sight, Yoongi lightly spanks you. You gulp, scanning the premise and luckily no one’s around. He smirks and mutters in your ear, “we’re finishing this later…”

Meanwhile, Taehyung sits himself down on the floor, a stack of books next to him on how to capture women’s hearts. He reads intently for hours, soaking in the information on how to be a bad boy to a gentleman. His head throbs at the contrasting details, not sure which is credible and which isn’t. The genius hasn’t had a moment like this in his life where things didn’t make sense.

He wishes you were here right now.

“Hmm….that’s weird.” His mind trails off to the position he found the pair of you in. It’s strange, though he doesn’t know how to exactly describe why it is so.

//

Taehyung can’t return to work.

Not when it’s pressing on his mind. It’s odd. There’s something strange about Yoonji.

Something that Taehyung has never realized before. But he still can’t put his finger on it.

“Do you think there’s something going on with her? I mean...I just never noticed before but there’s something definitely weird.”

Namjoon chomps on his banana, putting it deep into his mouth. He chews, leaving remnants all over his skin and smearing his dirty fingers into his chaotic hair. The boy is monkey-like, giggling like an idiot. “Like what?”

“I don’t know- wait. Shut up for a second.”

“Okay.” Namjoon stops with Taehyung, continuing to eat his banana as he watches the latter man lean against the janitor’s closet with a frown.

“Is that...? I think I hear crying!” Taehyung pushes up his glasses and scratches his head. “Should we get someone?”

“Nah.” Namjoon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand in a barbaric movement. “It’s nothing. I cry in the janitor’s closet a lot too. It’s nice and cool and dark in there. Once I got stuck. I couldn’t open it for hours but I realized….I didn’t twist the door knob.”

Taehyung ignores him and knocks on the surface. He tries the knob but it’s locked. He leans in close and then it becomes silent, as if there was nothing in there at all. Did he mishear? Was his ears playing tricks on him? Maybe he was reading too much and working too much lately. That had to be it.

There’s no other logical explanation! Unless the custodian kept animals in his closet...

He brushes it off and Namjoon continues to accompany him down the hall.

“I can’t believe it…” Two girls come walking in the opposite direction, giggling to each other. “Who turns on porn that loudly? Everyone could hear it and it was like going on all night. God, there’s some real thirsty people around. Didn’t they get tired of watching?”

“I’m surprised they don’t know headphones exist. The RA almost knocked on the door but she was too embarrassed and tired to say something.” The other girl laughs, covering her mouth as she shoves her friend lightly. “But you know...it almost sounded real.”

“Pft.” Her friend rolls her eyes. “How could it be real? That’s impossible! Your imagination’s going too far.”

Taehyung’s head follows them as they disappear, bickering and gossiping with each other. He frowns, letting the words sink in, still confused. At the same time, Namjoon picks his nose, flicking it out the open window, probably onto some poor passersby outside.

“I’m going to go have lunch now!”

“Didn’t you just eat a banana?” Taehyung becomes distracted and disgusted while looking at the tall statured individual. “Do you even go to class? Do you have classes?”

Namjoon shrugs, scratching his head of hair as he makes the wrong turn to the cafeteria.

Taehyung internally and externally sighs.

//

The self proclaimed genius finally finds you when you’re exiting a lecture. He grins and dashes up to you. “Hey, Y/N!”

“Taehyung. It’s good to see you.” You might be dating Yoongi but you still liked to keep Taehyung around as a good friend. You’ve even spoken to Yoongi about it and he didn’t mind nor care. Your friends are your friends, it’s your decision after all. But your boyfriend did express that the idiot genius seemed to have other intentions with you which you adamantly refused.

Taehyung was your friend and that’s all there is to it.

“You know, I need your help with Yoonji! Jimin’s not going on anymore dates with her. This is the chance I’ve been waiting for!”

You smile sheepishly. “That might be a little bit difficult.”

“How so?” He lolls his head to the side in curiosity at the same time the same person you’re both discussing appears at the scene. Yoonji nonchalantly walks up to the both of you, one eyebrow cocked, hands buried within pockets.

Taehyung smiles, about to plunge at the opportunity, ask the love of his life out to dinner but as he looks at you for courage, his irises land on a blue mark plastered on your neck. “Y/N! What are those?!”

You look down before realizing the hickies and marks, covering them up hastily with your hands. “T-...They’re-!”

“She has a boyfriend now.” Your best friend interjects, smiling at you and Taehyung looks between the two of you, trying to decipher the emotions flashing on your faces. “Right, Y/N?”

“I do.”

“Oh…” Taehyung lets out a noise and then he clears his throat. “I mean...that’s great! I just didn’t know. When did it happen?”

“Recently.”

Taehyung nods. “I understand.”

You blush, a bit puzzled as to why the genius appears hurt. He looks up at your roommate, opening his mouth as if to ask something, perhaps for her to go out to dinner with him. But as Taehyung looks back at you, he grows disheartened and nods again.

“I guess I’ll see you later…”

Yoonji waves him off. “Bye!”

You pout at the retreating figure. “Bye, Taehyung!” Then you look to your boyfriend. “That was weird.”

He scoffs and kisses you on your cheek. “You’re super dense.”

You still don’t really understand.

//

You’re munching on a sandwich, sipping a juice box, a carton of soup by your side and a stack of toast to your left. Namjoon sits beside you, swaying back and forth as he plays some game on his phone. He gnaws on a chicken drumstick in his other hand and his phone accidentally slips from his grasps, tumbling to the tiled floor, further cracking whatever’s left of his glass screen.

You wince as he drops his arm down, searching for the device that’s near your foot, his face practically hovering over your skirt. “Hey, Y/N.”

“W-what?” You tug the fabric down and take of a sigh of relief when he finally grabs it, his nose meters away from your thighs like it should be.

“You smell a whole lot like Yoonji.” He comments without thinking much, taking another bite and playing the next round of Candy Crush.

Your entire face from your chin to your hair line turns into a shade of scarlet. “H..how do you know what Yoonji smells like?”

“I like her.” He says shortly as if it serves as the perfect explanation. “She smells like laundry….and coffee…”

“Mint and orange citrus…” You finish off without needing to debate for a single second. It’s a scent that you’ve memorized, that you find comfort in, that you’ve drowned yourself in on cold nights where the chills seeped into the window cracks.

Namjoon doesn’t question why you smell like Yoonji. He becomes distracted, a mind of a goldfish and attention span of a dog in a park with a thousand squirrels running around.

Yoongi finds you after his classes are done, grabbing lunch and seating himself across the table. You don’t say much, mind still preoccupied with your previous conversation with Namjoon. And you eat like a starved man who’s lived on a desert for centuries, focusing on gulping down all your food before your lecture begins.

“Well, aren’t you hungry?” Yoongi smiles as he stares at you, watching as you fit the rest of the sandwich in your mouth.

“I’ve been…” You clear your throat. “...working out lately.”

He smirks. “I bet you have been.”

“Wow!” Namjoon notices and he gawks at you. “You can sure fit a lot in your mouth, Y/N!”

Your boyfriend’s smirk grows even more, “she can. Can’t you, Y/N?”

You flush, rubbing and shifting your thighs together while his gaze becomes darker. Namjoon doesn’t notice. Instead, he challenges you. “I bet I can fit even more!” He peels another banana, shoving it down his throat. The two of you ignore him, having an unspoken conversation through stares.

Namjoon chokes, pounding his chest. Luckily (or not), he doesn’t die.

//

The professor at the front podium reads off of the textbook in a monotone voice. On any other day, you would’ve been bored to death, falling asleep with your head bobbing up and down but you’re wide awake. “Hey...Hoseok.”

The English Literature major looks up at you, having been absorbed in the poetry. “Yes?”

It’s a problem that’s been pressing on your mind for the past few days. You didn’t really have anyone to consult, anyone who would truly understand your issues. The best you had was Hoseok who seemed rather insightful and intelligent, who didn’t ask for details or pry deeper. He could give you an unbiased opinion. “It’s something about….sex drive.”

His eyes glisten and his entire body turns to you. “Ah. The lust that drives our decisions. What about it?”

“I have a friend…” You clear your throat. “Who has a friend who has a boyfriend...and this boyfriend is really sweet and kind and she loves him a lot. But the two of them are always engaged in….”

“Sex.” He says it plainly when you become embarrassed. “Go on.”

“Yes. And now my friend’s friend is worried that her boyfriend really only wants her for her body. I mean...they have a lot of sex. I’m not sure if it’s even normal. Like three or four times a day? O-...Of course, I wouldn’t know out of first hand experience but that’s what I heard.”

Your body is so sore that it isn’t even funny anymore. Everything aches. The skin around your breast, collarbones and neck is bruised in colours of blue and purple, shapes made from his lips. Your breasts, themselves, are tender and your ass is raw, hurting every time you sit down. Your thighs are inflamed, sensitive and your core still throbs. As much as Yoongi takes care of you each and every time, asking you if you’re okay...you haven’t been quite honest. You didn’t want to disappoint him after all.

“Let me read you something. I think it’ll help.” He flips through his notebook. “Lost in lust. Between bedsheets and car seats, a gust from her lips onto his member, it is a night to remember.”

You wonder where he’s going with this but Hoseok continues. “How he thrusts in deep, making her adjust to the leap. It’s enough to combust - after each and every thrust.” He exhales and shakes his head, holding in his tears. “ But alas, their lust was their destruct. For they never discussed and thus did not trust. Never spoken a single word, a proclamation of true love, and from the ocean of sex, there was nothing above.”

There’s a long second of silence. “What?”

“Communication is key.” Hoseok says plainly. “Communication.”

He should’ve just said that in the first place instead of reading out a full poem. But you guess it’s Hoseok’s passion nevertheless. As long as he doesn’t burst out crying like he usually does, you’re relieved.

//

The afternoon sun slowly begins to tuck itself over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and pinks, beams pressing through the glass to your shadow on the floor. You’re studying for some upcoming tests and papers or at least trying to….every other minute, you’re glancing up at the door, waiting for your roommate to return. It’s unlike Yoongi not to be here when you are and he didn’t respond to your text messages either. You can only be curious and worried to where he is.

Alas, at seven o’clock, the door creaks and you perk right up from your drowsy state. “Yoongi?”

“Hey.” He smiles, slipping off his shoes and carrying in a plastic bag. “Nice to see you too.”

“Where did you go?” You shove your books aside, letting him sit on your mattress.

“Nowhere..” Yoongi swallows and then he looks at you for a long time. Before you can inquire if there’s something on your face, he reaches over to begin unbuttoning your shirt.

“H-hey…” You lift your hands to his, nervousness eating at your skin. It hasn’t even been five minutes since his return and he wants to go at it already?! You haven’t even recovered from the morning’s roughhousing. “Yoongi..I-...”

“I went to the pharmacy.” He interrupts without realizing, unbuttoning your shirt only halfway to reveal your bruised collarbones and the marks left on your chest. “It’s soothing cream for your skin. I know I’ve been too rough with you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

His fingers lightly tap on them and he makes sure to be as gentle as possible. Your face grows warm but not in the same way as when he usually touches you. This time, your heart swells inside your chest and you feel an urge to keep Yoongi close to you, in a way that is beyond lust.

“So…” He re-buttons your shirt again, setting the container aside in case you want to apply it on your thighs or elsewhere. “I was thinking...if you wanted to go out on a date…”

“A date?”

“A proper one.” He hums. “A movie, dinner...maybe a walk in the park?”

You can’t stop your grin from taking over your face. “I never took you much for a person who likes walks in the parks, Min Yoongi.”

He scoffs and smiles, looking down at his lap and crumpling the bag together. “I’m not.”

“But maybe for you….I don’t mind.”

//

It’s pitch dark outside. The moon hangs in the air, allowing silver light to melt with the golden glow of lamp posts. Taehyung stretches, eyes exhausted from staring into microscopes, poking organisms in petri-dishes. He hangs the white lab coat on the hook, grabs his bag and switches off the white fluorescent lighting. He stifles a yawn, beginning to twist around the halls to make the treacherous march back to the dormitory.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do you care?” The sports major huffs out, having been standing partly out of the hallway. He looks right back at him. “I was doing some last minute working out. Are you heading back?”

Taehyung nods and the other nods too. “I guess we could walk back together then. Not that I care about you or anything but it’s more convenient this way. Wait for me….or not. It doesn’t really matter to me..”

“Sure.” Taehyung’s left baffled, waiting out at the hallway and looking through the glass doors of the gym. Jungkook puts back his weights, swiping the towel off of a machine to wipe his forehead. He drapes it on his shoulder and takes his duffle back, swinging it behind him.

“Let’s go.”

The two of them walk alongside each other in awkward silence, having not much to say. Taehyung takes peeks of the other boy but doesn’t say much else until they pass by a coffee shop that’s still open. “Did you eat yet?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I guess we could grab something. Only because it’s on the way obviously.”

Taehyung smiles and opens the door. “After you…”

“Thanks.” They study the menu in some more quietness, letting the background simmer of conversations fill the in between. As they purchase their own pastries, they wait for their drinks at the counter.

“I like your glasses…” Jungkook admits and Taehyung immediately lights up. It’s like the sun has entered the orbit of his dark world, as if his soulmate has been found and his heart has begun to beat for the first time.

“Thanks!” He enthusiastically grins. “I like your face. It’s very biologically symmetrical. Did you know symmetrical faces are considered to be more attractive? It’s scientifically theorized that it may be a link to superior genes. So, I guess in a way....you have superior genetics.”

Jungkook blushes at the compliment. “You’re an idiot.” But after a full second and a skip heartbeat, he mutters back, “I like your face too. It’s also very symmetrical.”

Taehyung’s orbs double and his brown irises shine like sunshine beams. “Thanks!”

It’s an unlikely combination. Though, it’s one that oddly works well together. Jungkook ends up stripping off his jacket to throw to Taehyung when they walk back and the latter offers to help the former study if he ever needs it. Jungkook agrees but plainly because he needs the help.

There’s no other reason. Definitely.

//

Why do you love Yoonji?

It’s a question you’ve asked yourself time and time again. She wasn’t the kindest to you when you met nor the nicest roommate you could ever have. The girl had a sharp tongue, sassy at every single remark, biting in her words and bad-tempered. Yet, you saw underneath the facade to a more vulnerable person who cared a lot despite the venomous exterior.

She became your best friend, someone that had you hanging onto every syllable, cherishing and adoring her like an absolute queen or a sister. In turn, she doted on you, letting you get away with things that others wouldn’t even be able to suggest.

“You never called me back.” Seokjin walks with you, raising an eyebrow. “Too intimidated too? Don’t worry. For you...I’ll make an exception.” He winks and you twist your face in distaste.

Your best friend scoffs. “She’s not interested.”

His jaw drops. “What?”

Out of nowhere, Hoseok turns from the other hallway and joins, flipping through his literature book. “Y/N. Yoonji. I have this poem you should hear. Listen. The two lovers-”

“Don’t want to hear it.” Your roommate pushes the book away and Hoseok looks up suddenly, appalled that he could become silenced.

Namjoon comes barrelling down the corridor, phone in his hand, almost tripping. “Yoonji!”

“Shut it.”

Jimin pops his head out of the classroom he was studying from to see the commotion. He catches you and Yoonji together and he angelically smiles. His warm brown irises crinkle into half moons, a sweet expression that matches his cute and generous aura. He waves and you smile, waving back to him. Your heart doesn’t flutter anymore at the simple gesture.

Jungkook who was listening to music, looking out the windows, pulls out his earbuds. “Oh. Y/N and Yoonji. It’s not like I was waiting for you two or anything but have you guys seen Taehyung? Again, it’s not like I care but-”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

At that exact same time, Taehyung walks in from the outside, wearing his white lab coat and goggles on his head. He scratches his ruffled hair before his eyes move towards Yoonji. Instantly, he looks over to you and smiles. “Yoonji! Y/N!”

Jungkook steps out from the shadows. “Taehyung….” His expression is unreadable.

Taehyung blinks back at him, a turmoil of emotions that he cannot decipher clouds his once clear logic. “Jungkook. I-”

“So we’re just saying each other’s names now?” Your best friend rolls their eyes, pulling you along. “Let’s go.”

All of them come barreling towards the pair of you. Seokjin demands an explanation as to why you won’t call him, Hoseok desperately wants to read out his new poem and he’s already shedding tears, Namjoon wants to ask directions to the cafeteria and if Yoonji wants to join. Taehyung and Jungkook are just staring at each other in complete silence while Jimin watches with his elbow propped on the window ledge, chin rested in his hand, amused at the chaos.

Your roommate screams, tugging you along as you laugh. You turn the corner, disappearing in front of their eyes.

“Where did they go?!”

“Yoonji?! Yoonji!”

“Over there!”

The realization punches Taehyung’s body and soul like a freight train. It comes from nowhere. The enlightenment descends down from the Heavens, blessing his mind. He whips his neck over and gasps.

Jungkook immediately is on guard. “What’s wrong?”

“I know.” The genius mumbles, piecing together all the evidence one by one. Everything he’s heard to everything he’s seen. From the flawlessness of your best friend to how oddly silky the black strands are….as if it were fake.

The one secret of Yoonji. What you’ve been keeping hidden. It all adds up-

Yoonji’s losing her hair.

……..

Why do you love Yoongi?

No one word could ever describe or even begin to delve into it. You can’t write a list either or tens of novels because you would certainly miss something. You don’t want to reduce him to a few traits, to strung syllables spoken on tongue to try to get others to understand. It’s much more complicated than that and a lot simpler as well.

It’s in the way he gazes at you with softened irises, the shade of melted honey. How his calloused fingertips and rough hands lightly skim over your skin, cherishing you. It’s how he can still be mean but never rude, how he scoffs and flicks you, but kisses you gently. There’s something about how he holds your hand, pouts and whines, jabs at the places that tickle - how you would want to spend every second pissing him off or making him piggyback you.

You never knew your best friend could become even more important in your life.

“Why do they never leave us alone?”

“You have no one else to blame but yourself.” You scold him, looking through the crack of the janitor’s closet. He’s hovering above you, two eyes staring out. The both of you quiet down when the calls of your boyfriend’s name come closer until it fades away. “You’re too popular.”

“Trust me. I’m not the one.” He laughs and faces you, cradling your cheeks in his palms.

You beat him to the punch, leaning in to kiss him. Yoongi grins at you, a gummy smile that makes you kiss him again. “Try to be quiet this time.”

Why do you love Yoongi? You just do.

{Epilogue}

The bell chimes as the door is swung open.

“Good morning-” The girl holding the silver scissors stops in her tracks. The black strands of her hair skim over her shoulder, pink apron tied around the curves of her body. “What are you doing here?”

The boy sheepishly smiles and shrugs. “Haircut?”

She points with her comb. “What are those?”

“Just some flowers and chocolates.” Jimin looks down at his hands and he giggles. “Surprise?”

The girl with the pouty lips scoffs, rolling her eyes and acting unfazed. “Set it aside, lover boy.”

Jimin gets into the chair, wearing the black cape. His nose scrunches when the water is sprayed and he feels ticklish when the strands of his locks fall loose in front of his face after being snipped. He doesn’t notice how it’s going however, focused on gazing at the girl in the mirror’s reflection. It takes twenty minutes before it’s over and she rips the cape away, blow drying his hair quickly.

“Done.”

Jimin looks into the mirror and he’s taken back. His trim has turned into an unrecognizable style. His fringe is straightly cut and it goes all the way until the back. It’s at the same length, chopped shortly above his ears - a bowl hair cut.

“I-” Jimin stares and the girl waits for his reaction. “I love it!”

And he really does. Mainly because it’s her who did it for him.

Yoonhee sighs but a tiny smile sneaks up her lips.

[peachymilkis]

Metamorphmagus (Hogwarts!Taehyung)

Imagine that Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks had a daughter instead of a son. And the daughter is placed in Ravenclaw. Now, what happens when this metamorphmagus runs into the notorious Hufflepuff Heartthrob?

Genre- Fluff/Angst

1//2//?

word count- 2.4K 

“Yah, Y/N, calm down! Your hair is turning bright red!” Your good friend, Lily Potter, gently touched your shoulder, causing you to flinch and calm down. Your hair finally returning to its normal color. As you calmed, you noticed that everyone in Hogsmeade had turned their attention to you. “Shit. Let’s just go.”

You dragged Lily out of Hogsmeade and made your way back to Hogwarts. “I’m really fine, Y/N. It was just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it eventually,” Her voice quieted down.

“I hope.”

“Look, Lily. You’re my best friend. Of course, I’m pissed off right now! He knew you liked him and he played you. Jisung’s a fucking idiot.” You ranted, feeling more angered and annoyed as you talked and thought about Jisung making out with some Slytherin. You couldn’t help it, Lily was like a little sister to you. She was family. Her along with her brother, James, and her parents, who treated you as one of their own. Lily let out a small sigh and grabbed your hand into her slightly smaller one.

He wasn’t worth it anyway. I’ll find someone better.” She let out a cheeky grin, causing your mood to lift a bit, your hair turning a light shade of blonde. “Sometimes, I just wish I got my dad’s werewolf genes. My emotions show so easily with just my hair, it’s frustrating, really.” You both laughed and made the rest of your way towards Hogwarts.

-----------------------------------------------------

You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before due to the fact that you had stayed up in the Ravenclaw common room all night, learning about muggle culture through a cellphone that your grandmother had brought you from the muggle world. You suddenly had a huge interest in muggle music and dancing. But luckily, you didn’t have much work to do and you had a free study period so you took the opportunity to take a nap in the library.

“Hyung, I can’t do this. I’m never gonna pass that Potions exam.” Hoseok groaned as he slammed his head against the wooden table. Taehyung let out a deep, breathy laugh. “Not if you keep slamming your head against hard objects. You’ll lose brain cells for sure.” Hoseok glared at the younger one.  “It’s easy! Let me show you,” As Namjoon began to help Hoseok with his potion dilemma, Taehyung let his eyes roam through the vast library. His eyes immediately finding your sleeping figure a few tables away.

“Yah, Jimin. Don’t you know her?” Jimin looked up from his book and in the direction Taehyung pointed to. Jimin’s eyes squinted a bit, trying to get a more clear view of the sleeping girl. “Yeah, that’s Y/N Lupin. Her family is quite famous. Her father was Remus Lupin, a werewolf. And her mother was Nymphadora Tonks, a metamorphmagus. Her parents died when she was a month old. They were killed by a Death Eater. Rumor has it that she’s a metamorphmagus like her mother was.” Everyone at the table had quieted down to hear Jimin’s little summary of your life.

“Wait, Y/N’s a metamorphmagus? That would explain the different hair colors!” Jin nearly yelled out, causing you to flinch awake and look around the library to find out who made such a noise. The guys quickly acted normal but still peeked over towards you. Your hair becoming a lighter red in annoyance of your disturbed sleep.

“Whoa. Her hair changed color!” Jungkook whisper-yelled, his eyes as big as a frightened bunny.

Disturbed and unable to fall back asleep, you gathered your things and started walking out of the library. Without realizing, your face started resembling features of a cat as you glared at Mr. Filch’s cat, Mrs. Norris. You always had a hatred for that cat, as did the cat with you.

You realized as you heard a few gasps from students nearby that your face must’ve been transforming so you quickly ran out of the library and made your way into the nearest bathroom, which happened to be with Moaning Myrtle. Well damn.

-----------------------------------------------------

The next day, as you walked with Lily and James down the halls, you could hear whispers about you. Metamorphmagi are very rare so of course people would gossip. You let out a groan as you let your head drop down while you walked alongside the Potters. Not watching where you were going, your head collides against a strong surface, or more like a strong chest.

“Whoa, are you alright?”

You quickly look up and lock eyes with possibly the prettiest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. Your face feeling like it’s heating up, you quickly look back down. “I’m fine, sorry., I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You internally panic as you see your hair started to change into a pinkish color. You quickly grabbed onto Lily and James and began walking away. Taehyung smiled softly as he watched you speed walk away.

“What the hell, Y/N! You bumped into one of the cutest guys in the school, yet you have no idea who he is?” You had practically infuriated your Gryffindor friend. “Look, Lily, he was surely cute but I’ve legit never seen him before.”

“Aren’t you partners with Park Jimin in Potions?” Lily suddenly asked. You let out a slow nod. “Yeah, what does he have to do with anything?” Lily sighed exasperatedly. “The guy you bumped into is Kim Taehyung! He’s one of Jimin’s best friends!” Your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you brain processed the information. “So he’s one of the two Hufflepuffs that are always around Jimin?” Lily nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” You laughed at your friend’s behavior. “You do realize your father is practically one of the greatest wizards of all time yet you’re a huge ass loser, right?”

And that caused Lily to put a spell on your mouth to shut up.

-----------------------------------------------------

After the day you ran into Taehyung, you began seeing him and hearing about him more and more every day.

“Oh my God, did you see the way he ruffled his hair?”

“He looks like a Greek God.”

“His hair looks so shaggy and long, I want to pull on it.”

You rolled your eyes as you heard the girls behind you speak, your hair probably turning some green shade as you continued writing notes in Charms class. Coincidentally, you happened to be in Taehyung’s line of sight and would often catch him staring in your direction. You just figured he was zoned out. He seemed to look lost, almost like he was in his own little world the majority of the time.

You thought nothing of it and continued to write down your notes.

After class, you were on your way to find one of the another friend of yours, Victoire Weasley, but your destination was hindered by the girls who were drooling over Kim Taehyung earlier.

“Yah, Morphie.” You flinched at the nickname given to you but immediately put up a front of unbothered and annoyed. “May I help you?”

“Why was Taehyung staring at you in class? Did you lure him with one of your morphie tricks? Did you make yourself prettier just to get him to like you?” You scoffed at their assumptions, which lead into a fit of laughter. Your hair turned red from how subtly pissed you got. Your laugh immediately coming to a halt and your face wearing the most stoic expression it could muster.

“First of all, I’ve never spoken to Kim Taehyung. Second of all, I like the way I look enough so thank you very much. And third of all,” Your stare became so menacing, you watched as the girls cowered back a bit in fear. “Call me ‘Morphie’ one more time. I dare you.” Your face grew scales, your eyes becoming more snake-like as your tongue became that of a snake’s. You hissed at the girls and they immediately ran. Your face returned to normal and as if nothing had even happened, you continued your way towards your friend.

What you hadn’t noticed was that Taehyung managed to witness the entire encounter with a look of shock and adoration.

-----------------------------------------------------

“And she was all like, ‘Don’t ever call me Morphie again.’ And his face transformed into a snake-like face, It was crazy!” Taehyung had told his group of friends what he had encountered yesterday. All the guys seemed really into the story. Hoseok’s face immediately turning into one of pure horror at the mention of the word, snake.

“So those girls were trying to call out Y/N just because you spent the entire class period practically drooling over her?” Suga scoffed at his younger friend’s actions. “Girls are scary,” Jungkook stated with an almost terrified look on his face. The rest of the guys agreeing. “With the way Y/N defend herself, I’m surprised she wasn’t placed in Slytherin or Gryffindor,” Jimin said with a light chuckle.

The other guys agreed as well. “It’s because she’s freakishly smart. I hear that she even beat Namjoon Hyung during the last few recent tests.” Namjoon groaned. “We don’t talk about that!” The table was filled with laughter and joking around.

-----------------------------------------------------

Soon enough, winter break came and you managed to convince you grandmother to let you stay at the Potters’ home for the vacation. You always enjoyed staying with the Potters. One, because Harry and Ginny were your godparents so they treated you as a part of the family. And two, because Harry would tell you stories about your parents back in the day.

A week into the vacation, you noticed that a certain shaggy-haired, puppy dog-eyed boy lived a few houses down from The Potter household.

You had decided to take a walk and feel the fresh winter air nip at your face. As you walked down the street, you were suddenly hit with a snowball. You gasped at the sudden contact, not knowing where it came from. You looked to your left, which is where the hit came from and realized that someone was hiding behind a snow covered car.

Upon further examination, your eyes widened as the hair sticking out from the top became familiar. You immediately began walking away. Just as you were a few feet ahead, another snowball came in contact with your back. You internally groaned and turned around. You bent down to pick up some snow. You compressed it with your small hands into a ball and threw it in his direction. You landed a hit straight on his head. “Ow!” He groaned as he jumped up from behind the car. You took the opportunity to make another snowball and fling it at his chest. He came out from hiding, acting as if he had been shot. Your soft giggles filling the air as he dramatically fell to the ground, still clutching his chest.

“I have been shot. Oh, goodbye cruel world! I will enjoy a peaceful life… after.. m..y… d...ea..th.” And with that, he dramatically ‘died’ in style. Your giggles became full blown, stomach-hurting laughs, Taehyung swore he’d never heard something more precious.

Immediately after that, the two of you became close. You both hung out when you could and sent letters to each other in the middle of the night. You talked about anything and everything. You like that Taehyung was dorkier than he let out to be. And he loved that you were so kind yet confident when it came to protecting yourself. But soon enough, your break came to an end and it was off to school again.

-----------------------------------------------------

You decided to sit with Lily and Victoire during lunch in the Great Hall. You had told them about your encounter with Taehyung and how you two had become ‘friends’. Was it safe to say that? You never really established what kind of relationship the two of you had become.

Taehyung had as well told his friends about his encounter over the break with you. They were all ecstatic. “You should invite her to sit with us!” Jin exclaimed happily as he realized you were nearby. Taehyung’s cheeks immediately reddened. “N-no she looks comfortable over there with her friends. She might not want to sit over here.” The boys exchanged knowing looks.

“Hyung has a crush on Y/N~!” Jungkook sing-songed a little too loud for Taehyung’s liking. HIs face and ears reddened even more. “No, I don’t!” He exasperated. “Then invite her to sit over here,” Yoongi stated with a smug grin on his face. Taehyung groaned yet he was still hesitating.

“Ya Y/N!” You were surprised to hear your name being called as you looked up and saw that it was Park Jimin. He seemed to be waving you over. Your eyes widened slightly as most people turned their attention towards you. You excused yourself from your two friends and hesitantly walked over.

“Hey, Jimin, long time no see.” You decided to act normal as you made it to the table. You glanced at Taehyung to see him looking down, his ears were poking out of his hair and you could tell they were tinted a bright red. Jimin smiled his infamous eye smile that had the girls all swooning.

“Yeah, how have you been? We heard you had befriended this puppy over the vacation.” Jimin said, in a tone that was almost teasing. Taehyung finally looked up shyly and smiled at you. “Hi Y/N.” You giggle, your own cheeks dusting pink. “Hi, Taehyung-ah.” The guys at the table giggled. You realized your hair was turning a light pink color again and you tried your best to calm down your emotions. “A-anyway, we were wondering if you wanted to sit with us? Maybe? I mean, you don’t have to. We were just wondering- if you know, you wou-” You cut off Taehyung’s rambling with a short, ‘I would love to’, which had him just as flustered.

You still couldn’t believe that the entire school thought of him as a cool guy heartthrob.

this is just part 1 so i hoped you enjoyed and please tell me what you think of it!

[wordsforfun-blog]

SUNSHINE KIND OF MIND

Susan and Luca have five children. Every year they have a tradition where they go out with one child and let them buy some Christmas presents for each one of their siblings. It has worked really well these past few years and the tradition is holding strong. This year things are going to be different. Luca got demoted at his job. He loves being a software designer and he is good at his job. Sadly, his company has not been doing so well. Instead of firing him they chose to put him in a lower position. A lot of his coworkers/friends were let go so he is grateful to still have a job but the pay decrease is tough when you have five kids at home. Today is his oldest daughters turn to go out with them and she has been looking forward to it more than any of their children. Luca and Susan have been too afraid to tell her about the budget this year and have failed to do so thus far.

Julia is shorter than most twelve year olds but that doesn’t bother her one bit. People look at her like she is still a kid but she doesn’t feel like one whatsoever. She listens to her parents and keeps her siblings in line, she is not even the oldest child but she is always left in charge when her parents go out. Julia keeps her nose in a book at all times, she walks to school every day in her white soled purple canvas shoes and sways her arm like a pendulum from front to back with the swagger of someone a few years older. She loves going to school and learning and interacting with her teachers and fellow students. She knows she is young and needs to be having fun but she just loves setting a good example for her siblings and showing them that they can have fun and be a good student at the same time.

It is November and the holiday season is in the air. Julia loves to shop for her sibling’s presents. Last year she got her brother a toy that he still plays with today and she wants to impress them each year with her gift giving prowess. Over the years she has bought them various dolls, toys, clothes, posters and so many other cool things. This year she plans on outdoing herself. She has every gift picked out in advance and is ready to get in and get out of each store and be ready to go. On this particular day she is wearing her lucky canvas shoes and a yellow sundress that her mother nicknamed her sunshine outfit. Her mother makes sure to always point out that the nickname is not because of the color of the dress but because to her she is her little drop of sunshine on a rainy day. Julia, her mother Susan and her father Luca are out shopping in the Supermall. Everyone loves it here and you can tell this because of the packed parking lot. To Julia, this is her mall, she has got all of her presents here over the years and it never lets her down, especially during the holiday season. She looked back at her parents as they walked inside. Her mother was so beautiful, he long strawberry hair was draped around her snow white pea coat. Her father was in his normal black suit but he mixed it up with a white tie to match her mother. To her, her parents were the cutest couple in the world and she hoped her relationship in the future would be just as wonderful.

It is very busy today and Christmas music is in the air, song after song carries with it brightness to the tune that lingers in the back of her mind. She doesn’t have the time to sing along to every song or even notice which one is playing but she knows it is blaring in the overheads and she loves it. People are everywhere and everyone is moving a little faster than they normally would be during the year.  The holidays are big in her town and she sees some people looking stressed but for the most part people just cannot stop smiling. This is her time to shop for presents for her brothers and sisters and she waits for this day all year long. She meticulously planned each gift she is getting this year and she started this process the day after Christmas last year.

This mall is the biggest building she has ever seen. It is five stories tall, a large oval shape that Julia and her family have always called The Doughnut. The food court could be considered the doughnut hole and it also contained an ice skating rink. Unlike most malls this one is organized for the shopper instead of from a sales perspective. Each floor is a different color and caters to a more specific demographic such as kids, food, clothing etc. Julia loves the third story, it is bright purple and it has everything a kid could ever want. On the way up the elevator Julia looked out through the glass and across the open space of the mall below. She saw a line of people waiting to have a chat with the bearded man, another line of people waiting for pretzels and many other lines, zigzagging across and between the crowds. A bell dinged and she turned to leave the elevator and commence the shopping. Her mother’s arm on her shoulder just outside of the closing door halted her progress,

“Sunshine, we need to talk.”

“What’s up mom?” She could tell her mom was nervous.

“Well, we, we are really sorry but this year we need to stay on a budget. You can only spend five dollars on the others. That is twenty dollars total, okay?”

Julia was shocked. This didn’t make any sense to her. They always had money. She looked up to her mother with runny egg eyes. The droopy sad look that usually gets her anything she wants. Her mother looked back at her, her round face dimpled with a frown and she knew that she couldn’t push the subject.

Her father stepped a little closer, “Jules please don’t make your mother feel bad. We really wish we could spend more but this year we really have to be careful.” Her father said remorsefully. The truth about his job was just not something he could discuss with his children.

Julia turned away without a word and ignoring her parents calling her name she headed into Toy-Ville. She was mad but she just wanted to shrug it off. This was her favorite store all year round and this time of year that was compounded exponentially, there was no way this store wouldn’t cheer her up. 

The windows were filled with toys she had never even seen, the latest and greatest models were highlighted and they seemed so cool to her. Her eyes were wide with excitement and then she remembered her budget. Instantly, the whole store lost its appeal and this only made her feel worse. The workers had on little elf hats and shoes and carried with them an extra cheery smile. Normally she would have smiled right back but today she pretended not to see them at all.

Luca turned and kissed his wife’s temple grabbing her hand, “I am sorry babe. I really wish we could give them more this year. She seemed to take it pretty well though. I am sorry you had to tell her, I was just too weak to have that chat with her.”

She turned and smiled, “Oh, don’t worry honey. They will all be alright. We raised them well. They know we love them.”

Julia made her way deeper into the store. She heard an electronic trumpet going off from the back of the store and when she found it Julia stopped abruptly at the foot of a brand new shiny display. A black knight on a horse with a red cape in a pretty cool display box and it was the last one, the Epic Knight Five Thousand. The one she had been looking for, it cost thirty dollars by itself. Her parents watched as her shoulders slumped; she turned and walked right out of the store with her head below her shoulders. They slowly followed behind her without a word, clearly worried but they knew they needed to give her a little space. Money was never an issue to their kids before so they knew it may not be easy.

She was furious. That was what she was going to get her brother. He had been playing with his red knight she got him last Christmas for the whole year. He had mentioned wanting another in passing and today she couldn’t get it. She walked the kid’s floor, the whole purple circle with not even a glance into the windows. Her head was held low and her shoulders drooped. The holiday spirit had left her. They followed her as she continued walking.

Luca let out a sigh, “I am so sorry babe. I can’t believe I lost my position and at a time like this.”

“Honey, it just wasn’t meant to be. If they didn’t want you then you wouldn’t be there. The company is having trouble and my heart tells me it will pay off if we show some loyalty. We will be okay.” 

She squeezed his hand and gave him a smile as they turned and followed Julia up the escalator.

“Are you sure we haven’t spoiled them? Look at her. What is she doing? That isn’t our daughter is it?”

“No, she is just disappointed. Remember, she is shopping for the kids. She is not being selfish.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Luca turned and stopped to kiss his wife.

“Guys, what are you doing?” Suddenly, they were in front of Julia and she was peering out from inside a store.”  

Julia turned and walked inside. They looked at each other and followed her into Creatopia. They had walked by it on many different occasions but never stopped in. The employees all wore aprons that were just as colorful as their greeting,

“Hey guys, welcome to Creatopia! How can we help you today?” 

said two workers uniformly and clearly on point for some kind of script they were given.

Susan looked at them with a smile in return, “We are doing okay, just following our daughter.”

The two workers looked to each other. One, a slender man in his mid-thirties gestured to the younger girl, clearly a newer employee that they were going to be her sale.

Luca interrupted them, “It’s okay, we will just be looking. Thanks you guys.” 

He took his wife’s arm and they continued into the store. The associates muttered something they couldn’t hear and went onto the next customer. Susan gave Luca a little nudge with her elbow, 

“They sure seemed happy?”

“Maybe I should get a job here…” Luca said as he gave his wife’s hand a little squeeze.

“Umm, yeah. I would like to see you hold a smile for that long.” She laughed and they both turned their attention to their daughter.

She seemed different all of a sudden. Julia was standing in front of them with a huge smile; in her hands was a bright red and green box with a clear window cut out on the front. Inside of the box was a basket filled with markers, pens, stencils and it was surrounded with different types of things to be crafty with.

“Guys, I know what I am doing.” 

She stood up on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms about the box in a hugging motion. She had found her siblings presents. Luca got down on one knee,” Oh really? Now, what are you going to do with all that? That looks like one present to me.” He winked at Susan so they could both be on the same page.

“Now Julia, you know we are not here to get you a present right? It is time for your brothers and sister to get something from you.”

“No, you guys this is perfect. It’s got colors and papers; it’s even got those little twisty things. I am going to make their presents. I saw this and I got so many ideas. Is it okay?”

They both looked to the tag on the front with the price. It showed twenty five dollars even. They had both been shopping yesterday with her brother and told him no to something the same price.

Susan looked to her daughter with sad eyes the eyes that Julia knew meant no without saying anything, 

“I am so sorry. We just can’t go over. We just told your brother he can’t go over yesterday. Maybe next year?”

Before Julia could react a woman walked up to them. She was older like Julia’s grandmother and she wore a tan fur coat that dragged behind her, 

“I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I have a twenty percent off coupon and I did not find what I was looking for. You want it?”

Luca and Susan were taken aback. Luca played it down, "Oh no, that is okay. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, no problem." 

The woman looked out towards the mall as if she needed to be somewhere fast. She handed the coupon off to Luca without another word and blended with the crowded mall. Luca took a step after her to thank her but it was too late.

Susan looked to Julia, "Umm, did you see that babe. What a nice lady. Let’s check out." a tear in her eye.

They all headed the checkout. Julia still held the box like she would never let go of it, 

"Why hello there, just hold that right there and I can scan it for you." said the peppy cashier.

Julia’s smile lit her parent’s hearts. They headed out and into the mall once again.

“So…?” 

Luca whispered to Julia with a wink towards his wife.

Susan understood his signal, 

“Hey, what are you going to be making for everyone?”

Julia played off the question with a wave of her hand, 

“Don’t worry about it guys. It will be a surprise.”

“Okay sunshine, we can’t wait to see what you do for everyone. I am sure your brothers and sister will be excited to see what you make for them. Let your father or me know if you need any help okay?”

“Okay, I love you guys. I got this.” 

She gripped her bag tight in her hand and walked ahead of her parents, her arm swinging back and forth. Susan and Luca looked on as their daughters body language had changed drastically since they were in the toy store earlier. She was happy. They watched her grow so much in the last few minutes and it warmed their hearts. 

The holiday season had always been a big deal for both Luca and Susan’s families even before they were married so they knew it would play a big role in how they raised their own children. They are happy. Luca has been a great husband for more than fifteen years and Susan has been a wife and mother and exceeded Luca’s expectations on numerous occasions over the years. They went into this particular season with lower hopes for their family’s happiness. This was going to be the first Christmas for all of them with a tight budget.

Today, Julia had taught them something. It wasn’t easy and it took a little luck, but, she made them realize that Christmas is not all about the “coolest” stuff you can get for someone or be given. It is not about impressing people with your light display on your house. It is about family, it is about being together and caring for each other. Julia wasn’t going home with the brightest and most sought after items for her siblings. She was going to give them a piece of her heart. She was going to be thoughtful, considerate and creative all at once. On the ride home Luca and Susan held hands across the car seats. They couldn’t stop smiling and Julia was just the same. Her mind was flooding with ideas. 

There was an endless opportunity for her gifts this year and she may even have some stuff left over for next year’s gifts. Julia looked back on her trip to the mall. She was a little embarrassed for how she acted when she found out about the money issue. She knew she was wrong and at home she was going to have a little sisterly chat with each one of her siblings about the holiday spirit and how money is not the most important thing in the world.