#further proof I’m insane for this movie

[willowuponavon]

saw a gifset from the lisa movie (??) with two people on heavy eyeliner and the fem holding an axe (????)

anyways just wanted to say i immediately identified it was cole sprouse bc he was so pathetically emo (jughead jones warped my brain in a way i can't recover from)

Yes it’s Cole sprouse he is pathetically emo and acts so well in this movie in a way that maybe he….lacked in riverdale

But yes axe holding and wonderful moments of them with axes and them killing and loving and it’s bloody and I love this movie

[designernishiki]

as much as a i understand and respect ace kiryu truthers, i really feel like kiryu is the type to really take the idea to heart that sex is something vulnerable and meaningful and thus reserved for someone completely trusted and special to him– someone who feels right. after years and years he’s still never legitimately voluntarily slept with someone, always tries to turn women away or is at least apathetic when they try to get physical with him, never feels that deep and specific bond with a woman– nothing compared to some of his bonds with other men throughout his life. and maybe, hopefully, one day it’ll hit him that there’s a pretty big, glaring reason why no women have ever felt “right” to him.

[helpimstuckposting]

The Category System in TMA

I want to preface by saying this isn’t my theory but I cannot for the life of me find the original post, if anyone knows what post I’m talking about please PLEASE tell me, it’s driving me insane

The theory I saw (a while ago, maybe around episode 10?) proposed that categories 1, 2, and 3 all represent nouns. Person (1), Place (2), and Thing (3)

I’m genuinely shocked this hasn’t gained more traction because I’ve yet to disprove this and every single episode just keeps working with this theory, so I wanted to list out every episode as further proof

Episode 1

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

CAT23RAB2155-10042022-09012024 Transformation (eyes) -/- Trespass [chat log]

Cat1 (person) - reanimated corpse, though I think the focus is more about the person they paid to bring their husband back, which implies there some mystery guy out there with this ability

Cat23 (place, thing) - the magnus institute, and the box with runes that red canary stole

Episode 2

CAT3RBC1567-23092022-18012024 Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]

Cat3 (thing) - the tattoo from ink5oul is the main focus, though other ink5oul episodes are focused on them and use cat1 (which has confused people, but this theory explains that imo)

Episode 3

CAT2C8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (full body) -/- arboreal [journal entry]

Cat2 (place) - the garden is what started changing the man making the statement (also seemed to exist as its own entity outside the regular flow of time)

Episode 4

CAT3C7494-19111831-29012024 Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]

Cat3 (thing) - the violin (the power of the violin still remains even if the object itself changes hands, which means the power lies with the violin and not the people controlling it)

Episode 5

CAT2RB2377-10012023-05022024 Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [internet blog]

Cat2 (place) - the movie theater (or wherever the movie itself is being played, I assume the statement giver did not make it out of that location)

Episode 6

CAT1RB4824-09022024-12022024 Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call]

Cat1 (person) - Needles

Episode 7

CAT2RC3338-03022016-12022024 Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]

Cat2 (place) - Hilltop Center, Oxford (By episode 20, Oxford has been mentioned multiple times, which is why I think the location is significant here)

Episode 8

CAT2RBC3366-12072023-28022024 Architecture (liminal) -/- hunger [coursework]

Cat2 (place) - the liminal space of Forton Service Station

Episode 9

CAT3RB3354-14101998-08032024 Dice (bone) --/-- fate [Magnus Statement]

Cat3 (thing) - the dice (again, the power of the dice remains the same, even when the dice themselves change hands)

Episode 10

CAT1RB2275-06082021-09032024 Mascot (kids) -/- murder [TV interview]

Cat1 (person) - Mr Bonzo, Nigel Dickerson

Episode 11

CAT23RC5246-06012020-11032024 Tattoo (corpse) -/- compulsion [email exchange]

Cat23 (place, thing) - Padstow civil cemetery, tattoo (the reason I believe this isn't a Cat1 despite it being ink5oul is because we know from episode 20 that the tattoos themselves had special powers, regardless of ink5oul and that ink5oul only started getting their powers after they continuously used the pre-existing designs - this is new information that imo further confirms this theory rather than debunking it)

Episode 12

CAT1RB4728-09032024-13032024 Mascot (kids) -/- frenzy [insurance claim]

Cat1 (person) - Mr Bonzo

Episode 13

CAT3RB4622-17092023-14032024 Gambling (application) -/- self-destruction [voicemail]

Cat3 (thing) - the Zorrotrade investment app

Episode 14

CAT1RB4426-01081995-15032024 Transformation (snake) -/- horde

Cat1 (person) - shop keeper that burst into snakes (the investigator describes no other infestation, and only mentions one hole and one possible squirrel, while the shopkeeper causes all other chaos. We also know that the shopkeeper was being considered by the Magnus Institute before being rejected, like Sam, making this shopkeeper a relatively important person)

Episode 15

CAT1RB6451-22062023-22032024 Hunt (aristocratic) -/- compulsion

Cat1 (person) - Lady Mowbray

Episode 16

CAT1RB1565-30102023-25032024 Tattoo (influencer) -/- cardiac

Cat1 (person) - ink5oul (this one was specifically about ink5oul, rather than the main focus being the tattoo itself)

Episode 17

CAT2RC1147-30111997-04042024 Doppelganger (interdimensional) -/- murder

Cat2 (place) - this one people keep focusing on categorizing the doppelganger, but I think the key focus of the episode is actually the Magnus Institute – Oxford Outreach Centre (another instance of Oxford, another connection to Ep7)

Episode 18

CAT1RC2374-20032024-10042024 Memory (derelict) -/- compulsion

Cat1 (person) - Violet Parker, talking corpse; [ERROR]

Episode 19

CAT13RBC1137-21031684-11042024 Transformation (canine) -/- growth (Crystalline)

Cat13 (person, thing) - Isaac Newton, Diana’s Tree

Episode 20

CAT1RAB2534-12042024-12042024 Transformation (tattoo) -/- Social Media (influencer)

Cat1 (person) - ink5oul (very clearly, this episode is about ink5oul and not about any of their tattoos, though they were in the middle of tattooing a corpse. I think the tattoo is irrelevant to this incident, which is why it's only a 1 and not a 13)

Episode 21

CAT2RBC4254-04011998-12042024 Architecture (landmark) -/- corruption (entropy)

Cat2 (place) - Millennium Dome (also happens to be The Magnus Institute, but I think the main focus is obviously the dome)

I think the *only* one that could be argued as not really fitting is MAGP5 - since you could argue the movie is a thing, and it’s not really the theater as the place, but compared to the odds of other theories that have way more holes this one is so spot on imo

This is the theory I’ve been comparing the categories to every single episode and I haven’t found anything to significantly disprove it, so I just wanted to highlight it one more time in case others haven’t seen it!

[pinetreevillain]

Rise Turtle Strength Calculator

Part 2: Purple Bugaloo

Disclaimer: I Am Just A Guy And 100% of this is guessing, googling, and approximation

So!!!! Got a request to determine Donnie’s strength and the journey was an Interesting One.

So let’s start with the most popular

EXHIBIT A: Dumbbell (Insane In The Mama Train)

He pulls it off with ease (relaxed pose, no real effort exerted until he makes the effort of hefting it and throwing it). Going off the size of these dumbbells, they are either 45lbs or 100lbs. This is a big gap! But seeing as the yokai falls over as soon as its removed, we can assume that Donnie is AT MOST tossing a 100lb weight with little to no effort.

UNFORTUNATELY this doesn’t tell us much else since we don’t see the weight hitting anyone/anything other than the traincar door before it teleports away.

So! We must delve further

EXHIBIT B: Donnie’s Equipment

We know Donnie’s tech bō is made from high grade titanium.

TITANIUM IS A LIGHT METAL! Revered for being light weight, flexible, and rust-proof. Used to make medical tools! This make perfect sense as 1) ninjas need maximum mobility and heavy equipment is counter intuitive, 2) melee weapons are supposed to be LIGHT (see reason 1).

However! This does not stop me from calculating the weight of Donnie’s tech bō regardless.

TO DO THAT, i must first calculate the length of his staff (operating under the assumption that both the ninpo staff and the tech bō are the same in size).

BŌ STAFFS ideally are the same height as the wielder. We are going to use this image (cannot find source) as reference, just like i did w Raph (give or take any growth between season 3 finale and movie)

Donnie is 5’3”, and while i’m here, weighs ~140lbs give or take after plastron, muscle mass, and Bones

The average bō staff has a circumference of about 1-1 1/8th of an inch depending on the length. I’m leaning more towards the larger because of the tech bōs gadgetry and hammerspace.

NOW to calculate how heavy a 5’3” metal pole that’s 1 1/8 inch in width of titanium.

Thankfully the internet is Insane and literally has a calculator that calculates this exact thing.

I was able to come to the conclusion that his tech bō probably weighs no more than approximately 1 pound.

Not very heavy!

What about his battle shell?

WELL it depends! For ease, I’m going to calculate it like a backpack.

The average public school backpack is 12-20 lbs full (heavy and 5-20% heavier than a child SHOULD be carrying to avoid back and neck strain).

I’m going to use measurements from this Random Backpack Website I Found and calculate it as a Medium Backpack (larger than standard) with a laptop pouch, and some minor adjustments since his shell covers him from neck to ass (roughly 24 inches, his height is in his legs)

It’s harder to calculate the shell because he has Different kinds and they’re made of different materials.

I am going to give all of these a base of 66lbs + whatever equipment they have

His Mango shell is probably largely padding with minimal titanium lining

Ice Maker shell is probably heavier. Spider Shell, Drone Shell, are all made w titanium so. Assuming Donnie makes EVERYTHING out of titanium

TECH BŌ: 5’3”, ~1 lb

BATTLE SHELLS:

- Mango: ~66lbs

- Drone: ~150 lbs (including whatever is powering it)

- Ice Maker: ~200 lbs (including ice)

- Spider Shell: ~150lbs

🧍

New approach!

EXHIBIT C: APRIL

WE SEE DONNIE CARRYING/SUPPORTING APRIL A NUMBER OF TIMES. A majority of them i am writing off because he is using his tech to assist.

HE IS just holding her up easily in this shot. After some cursory google searches i determined April O’neil to be ~110lbs soaking wet because she’s 4’8”, petite, and the boys fling her around like she’s made of craft foam.

Conclusion: Donnie can lift/throw a fairly decent 110 pounds, and carry approximately 200lbs

This is a small number after raph’s 20,000 lbs, and i can barely lift an 84lbs dog so I’m not gonna sneeze at it. It does however check out for someone who is physically fit and active (and does backflips and parkour and fights enemies four times his bodyweight)

BUT WAIT!!! PINE!!! WHAT ABOUT…

EXHIBIT D: SUBWAY KRANG (The Movie)

Donnie DOES get bonked pretty hard by a subway car and doesn’t Immediately Die. To determine this I had to calculate the Weight Of A Subway Car and the Breaking Point of Titanium.

Subway car: 82,000lbs empty

119,000lbs full

Because the subway car looks like this

I’m gonna call it full.

Titanium has a tensile strength of 63,000 pounds per square inch.

After determining the size of Donnie’s shell off his body, and how much titanium was used, i cam to the conclusion that…

I CAN’T ACTUALLY CALCULATE it because the shell he was wearing was actually mystic/ninpo made and therefore NOT SOMETHING I CAN CALCULATE! It does explain why Donnie wasn’t Rapidly Dispersed upon being bonked by an INSANE AMOUNT OF FORCE.

This very issue crops up again with the other example of Donnie lifting and slapping down the drill on Shredder in the season finale. That was aided ENTIRELY by ninpo/mystic abilities and therefore incalculable.

My counter to the argument that “their ninpo is gone, it’s not mystic anymore” is that Yes They Could Not Access Their Ninpo, but their ninpo-made weapons were still fully intact, and TECHNICALLY still working, the ability to use them had just been locked away

i also humbly believe that Draxum’s Ooze made the boys’ bones EXTREMELY resilient and capable of absorbing force the same way Captain America’s shield absorbs vibrations — my way of explaining why they sustain little to no injury throughout the series.

That being said, it makes the fact that Donnie couldn’t break open a watermelon AND sprains his ankle pretty badly tripping on a fruit EXTREMELY FUCKING FUNNY TO ME.

TL;DR: Donnie can throw ~110lbs give or take, with a lift/carry of maximum 200lb (maybe a bit more before it hinders his movement speed!)

Donnie’s probably not excessively strong but he is CERTAINLY sturdy. Something something rectangles symbolizing stability blah blah metaphor metaphor

[michaelsfavgirl]

"Remember that recorded phone convo where Mike was saying how Joe had called him beggin for money? To call your son, who you abused and scarred mentally, for money because you were financially irresponsible at a grown ass age is just so shameless." - the kicker is, this wasn't the first time he did it either. The fandom really needs to discuss the absolute hell Michael went through at the hands of that man. And how the family would use Katherine as a pawn to get money out of Michael,since she was the only one he actively checked for. And how both Joe and Katherine were trying to convince Michael to do a tour with his brothers.........while he was doing This Is It. All because the brothers wanted money and they knew Michael's presence would increase profits.

Even now,the brothers and their families are still living off of Michael. Hayvenhurst? Paid for with Michael's money. The Calabasas house? Same thing. Man was actively supporting his brothers' baby mama, his nephews and cousins at one point too. There's a reason why 3T acts like he's their dad, because he practically was.

(Also, Latoya's not seeing heaven either for the shit she allowed to go down in her presence. I haven't forgotten that allegedly her and her ex-fiancé pretty much robbed Michael's home the day he passed. In fact, the same ex-fiancé actually got hemmed up just last year or so by the estate and the police for attempting to auction off three of Michael's laptops,which allegedly contained hundreds,if not thousands of hours of home videos he made per laptop. He sold Michael's passport too,if I remember correctly.

I'll see if I can find the article about it,because the situation is absolutely insane and is just further proof of how his own family didn't see him as a human being. Is it any wonder why he clung to his mom and kids?)

I wonder if they’re going to make the family look better than they actually were in the upcoming biopic? (Probably) I’m glad that the family’s involved but at the same time I don’t want what happened to bohemian rhapsody to happen to Michael. The involvement of the band made the movie more bland and skimmed over very important events in Freddie’s life. Let’s pray our biopic will be decent. 🤞🏻

[daaydreamy]

flora

chapter two - waiting for you like i did all this time

summary - he was slowly wilting away, his cheeks no longer sore because he was frowning instead of smiling.

warnings - none.

word count - 1.4k+

“hey, you’re home!” niall turned his head to watch y/n come in through the front door. “ordered some takeout for you, it’s in the kitchen.” he said and looked back at the tv where he was watching a show, sinking into the couch a little further as he let himself indulge for a little while. 

“jesus, i don’t wanna watch that shit while eating.” she furrowed her brows and grabbed the remote from where it was on niall’s lap, making his brows furrow as he tried to protest, but his mouth was filled with food so he couldn’t. all he did was watch her exit out of black mirror, switching over to her account and continuing julie & julia (she had been trying to finish it but, god, work was exhausting most of the time so she never had time). 

“that episode was interesting!”

“and i bet it was weird too.” she said and took a bite from her food, ignoring the way niall’s eyes were now slits as he looked at her. 

so they ate in silence for a little while on the couch, watching julia child explore france and julie powell try to attempt all of the recipes in julia’s cookbook. 

“i need to talk to you about something.” she said after deciding to tell niall about what happened in the forest. she paused the movie and moved to face niall a little, crossing her legs. 

“okay, what is it?”

“don’t laugh, alright?”

he gave her a weird look, but nodded anyway. 

“okay, so i went to this forest. i was just walking around, you know, relaxing. everything was fine until i saw this… guy. he was just there, which was kinda weird. he told me that, uh, he wasn’t human? and that he lived off of nature… whatever the hell that means. he was- he was really weird, ni, he told me to stay and he asked me tons of questions about what it’s like to live here, i guess, because he had never left the forest. i’m being serious, i swear.”

niall was holding back laughter, covering his mouth as an attempt to hide his smile. 

“i said don’t laugh!”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i told you that i was being serious! dead fucking serious, niall.”

“okay, so let me get this straight. you met a random guy—or alien in the forest? just like that?”

“yes!”

“i don’t believe you.” he chuckled, shaking his head as he finished up the last of his food. 

“i swear i saw him! look, i’ll even bring you there as proof.”

“what makes you think i’d believe you?! you just told me you met some weird forest creature, y/n, i’m pretty sure those things aren’t even real.”

“well, apparently this one is.”

“no way.” he was still laughing and y/n groaned softly. 

“i-i should’ve taken a picture of him so i could show you. i’ll go back and i’ll show you proof.”

“what- you’re going back?”

“i,” she sighed, “i don’t know.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸 

y/n woke up with a gasp.

she was panting softly, looking at the wall that was straight ahead of her. a soft sigh then left her lips and she rubbed her face with her hands, moving to lie down again. she just… dreamed about the guy she met in the forest. in her dream, she was back in the forest and he was trying to show her something, and as he was starting to pull her along with him, she woke up. she didn’t know why she dreamed about him–surely he was doing all of it on purpose.

she turned to lie on her side, sticking her hand under her pillow, and seeing yet another dead flower on her pillow.

was she going insane, or was he some serial killer? it honestly felt like both. every morning, she had woken up to a dead flower on her pillow. every single morning ever since. not one of them were alive, they had all wilted and dried up. she had no idea where they came from and she was starting to worry about what she had accidentally gotten herself into. she had kept all of the dead flowers, keeping them in the drawer of her nightstand because she didn’t exactly want to throw them away, she could show them to niall as proof (he still didn’t believe a single ounce of what she had told him and, well… she didn’t really blame him, what she said did sound absolutely ludicrous). 

she wondered whether she should confront the weird forest man, unable to stop thinking about him as she went on about her day. he was definitely doing all of this on purpose, there was no way he wasn’t. at least, that’s what y/n was thinking. it could have just been niall pulling an annoying prank on her, she wouldn’t even be surprised if he was. 

“niall.”

“yes?” niall took a bite out of his bagel, looking at her confusedly because she looked quite annoyed. 

“did you put these on my pillow?” she asked, holding up the dead flowers. 

“no…? why would i do that?”

“i don’t know with you! did you put them on my pillow? be honest.”

“god, you’re so awfully pissy in the mornings.” he mumbled to himself, “no, i did not. why would i just randomly get dead flowers? don’t you think i’d be a little nicer and get fresh ones?”

she narrowed her eyes at him and he raised his hands up in surrender. 

she was going to confront him. 

𓂃 𓈒𓏸 

y/n was practically stomping on the ground with every step she took, walking closer and closer to that stupid guy and his stupid little bed, clutching the dead flowers she had recieved in her hand. from the distance, she could see that he was just relaxing on his bed, looking up at the sky through the space the trees that surrounded him left. 

she eventually reached him, standing right in front of him. he had sat up as soon as he heard leaves crunching, oh so happy to see that she had come back to see him. he had been feeling quite down since she left, and it was probably the saddest he had ever felt. it was disappointing to watch the flowers that once surrounded his bed wilt and to hold the small dead flowers that had fallen out of his hair. but despite how sad he was, he still had hope that she would come back.

“i know what you’re doing.”

harry’s eyes widened and he parted his lips, unsure of what to say.

“uh, what am i doing exactly?” he asked her confusedly and she let out an annoyed sigh, bringing up a hand and pointing a finger at his nose, making his eyes widen even more, moving his head back a little in case she poked him or something.

“stop pretending! i know you’ve been putting these flowers on my pillow. i bet you even made me dream about you last night, huh? stop doing all of this shit, it’s weird, alright? leave me alone.”

“wh- what?” he asked in disbelief, looking at the dead flowers she was holding up. he then shook his head furiously, “i-i never put those on your pillow, i’m not quite sure what you’re talking about. i told you that i’ve never left the forest, why would i do so now? i never made you dream about me either since i am connected to nature after all, not minds.”

“liar.”

“what? i would never lie to you, that is preposterous.”

“that is preposterous.” she mocked before taking her hand away from his face to rub her cheek softly, looking down at the flowers in her hand.

“i never put those on your pillow, i swear.” he said softly.

“well, where else could they have come from?! look around you, what do you see?” she gestured with her hands, bringing attention to all the dead flowers on harry’s bed.

“i’ve just been feeling a little down.” he murmured, pinching his thigh softly.

“what?”

“e-ever since you left, i’ve been a bit down, hence why everything’s so… lifeless.”

what?

author’s note - hello! i hope chapter two of flora was somehow pleasing for the eyes, tell me what you thought!

[famouslysleepy]

I really need to watch Lightyear again.

cuz there’s the thing? when i watch it during those early screening before it was officially released? i had gotten 0 hours of sleep that day!! was fully wide the whole time tho! stayed awake did not fall asleep once, could hold a full conversation about the movie with a stranger minutes after it ended, stayed awake the whole ride back home plus a couple more hours until bedtime. Did all that all of that, but was still very much running around on exactly zero hours of sleep that whole day.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

zodiac theories for cevans characters

Okay, let’s go, sluts. (I would just like to say that this is all supposed to be fun and no one should be offended. I’m a Scorpio, which means that I’m insane, which mean I’m not actually judging anyone bc I know I’m insane.)

We’re starting with Jake Wyler:

Now obviously it’s hard to determine anything from a spoof movie. But that baby was an Aquarius. My proof? Idk, he was kinda rude and dumb lol. (I mean that in a loving way, you weird ass aliens) And there’s also just the fact that he doesn’t really look like any other zodiac sign and I feel like Aquarius are sometimes hard to identify because none of them ever really look the same.

Kyle from the perfect score:

Taurus. He seems grounded and logical, so that points to an earth sign. But if he was a Virgo or a Capricorn, he wouldn’t have needed to cheat lol. He’s also so against the idea of the SAT system, pointing to a stubborn personality. (I’ve only ever seen bits and pieces of this movie so I could be wrong)

Cellular was basically like a fever dream and I couldn’t pay attention to it. And I haven’t watched Fierce People because I’m scared I’m going to like his character but he is too fucking young for that.

And Johnny Storm:

A fucking Aries. Why? Because fire, but Leo is too obvious. He’s also a little more than hot headed on a few occasions and his impulsiveness is sometimes mistaken as a lack of intelligence. I have a particular liking for Aries and I find them very misunderstood and underrated, also how I feel about Johnny.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? I’m going to say it now, he has a public kink. He likes that he has celebrity status, which totally raises the stakes of getting caught, and increases the likelihood that you guys will get caught since he’s always been watched and followed. And disrupting arguments when he gets too angry to verbally express his feelings, so he just has to fuck you to show you how he feels.

Oh, poor baby, Syd:

That man is trash and too fucking emotional. I also felt like he weaponized those emotions, pointing to him being a water sign. But he’s not a cancer nor a Scorpio. This man who I love but will never be able to trust is a Pisces. I feel like he has that Pisces arrogance when he’s talking to London about god and why she believes in god. Alternate: Leo. Because of those mentioned emotions and arrogance. He was also pretty angry sometimes and I feel like him being a fire sign isn’t too farfetched.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? He has a god complex, meaning his most favorite thing ever is to get you on your knees and choke you with his cock. Things he has been known to do include making sure to get you on your knees in front of the mirror, you’re naked so he has the perfect view of your ass or you fucking your fingers while you get him off. Or recording you on his phone and he loves when you’re noisy and when you look up at him with your sweet eyes.

Mace from Sunshine;

A Virgo. I will not explain myself.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? I can’t really guess a lot but I can give you a scenario. Space sex—what would be more fun? But that means standing sex becomes something you’re both pros at. He loves fucking you against any wall you guys can find. Particularly, picking you up like you weigh nothing, your legs and arms just wrapped around him.

Harvard Hottie:

is hard to pick for bc he was so minimal, but I’d say a Gemini. Living two lives being that he’s so rich but having sympathy and “understanding” for the working people. I got air vibes from him but the other two just don’t make sense. I also don’t trust him so Gemini sounds right.

I will not be doing Paul Diskant bc it’s impossible to pick. All detectives seem like Capricorns or Scorpios. And I can’t do Jimmy bc I have never seen that movie. But if I had to make a guess, is he a Pisces?

my baby, Nick Grant:

Unexpected one, but he’s a Capricorn. I’ll take it a step further though and give him a cancer moon and a Aries rising. I would have said Aries sun but the plan at the end of Push? Nah. Too good not to be an earth sign.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? he uses his powers when he’s fucking you in literally any way he possibly can. it’s hard for him to find opportunity, but he completely goes out of his way to do so.

Jensen

That man is a hardcore Aquarius but Sag moon. He’s an almost himbo with one very specific skill that prevents him from being labeled a complete ditz. But he also has this odd intelligence about him that’s not traditional but somehow has gotten him that far in his life, so it just works.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? hard to say, honestly. Jensen is a hard character for me to pin down personality-wise, but I do think he has a lot of pride in what he does. Tech. So yes, in any way he possibly can, he will utilize tech in sex. That means sexting, that means video calling any time he’s on a mission and can manage it.

Lucas Lee:

that’s a Leo. No explanation necessary.

Mike Weiss:

That’s a Scorpio, my loves. Addict, shitty person, this unexplainable darkness for no god damn reason. The cheating is a little foreign to me (I hate cheating and I could never imagine cheating on a partner and like lying to someone you once loved about still loving them, I don’t think there’s anything more sick than that) but Scorpio men are a different kind of trash so. But also lonely, desperately reaching out to people just trying to feel some type of deep connection.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? obviously, there’s going to be something lacking here if he’s always high or fucked up, but when he can, it’s just going to be the most intense thing for no fucking reason. Sometimes you’re even like ‘can we calm down?’ But I see him loving eye contact, with him either on top of you or caging you in on any flat surface. But he’s also super closed off so I see him just being such a toxic hookup and he keeps you guessing and waiting and you never know if he’s going to want to fuck you again, but he’s also just magnetic and charismatic and you are addicted to him.

And of course, we all know Steve is a cancer.

Which is why I have not given that sign to anyone else. I don’t think any other character was as emotional as Steve, nor as kindhearted and selfless, up until it was for that one person that he would have given everything up for. So like, you know, a martyr until he just couldn’t be. I didn’t see that in any of the other characters. I also must say that I have fallen in absolute love with cancers, it’s expected as a Scorpio, but lemme tell you all…it’s hell. And hell is loving Steve Rogers after that ending, am I right?

what does this mean about how he fucks you? obviously we know he loves intimacy and being close and missionary, and he somehow makes it really good. but there’s also the ego of cancers that no one really mentions. I know Steve had a lot of insecurity before the serum, so after? he loves using his body and making sure that you know how strong he is and that you’re watching certain parts of him. he loves turning you away from him, wrapping his arms around you, just grabbing you or choking you. he loves when you focus on his arms.

Colin:

I know what you guys want me to say and I genuinely refuse. No, he’s not a sag, he’s not a Libra. He’s a Taurus. Flirty bc he’s bored. But won’t change his ways because he’s so damn stubborn. Until he does want to change his ways and just expects Ally to fully bend to his plan. But he’s also a really sure character, he knows who he is and knows what he wants always.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? it means he’s stubborn. what does he like the absolute most? edging. 

Mr. Freezy:

Well, the devil, of course. Yes, I believe he is also a Capricorn. He doesn’t mind being alone, he prefers it. He loves his job and he takes pride in being one of the best names there is. However, alternate: Aries, I think an Aries would be trusting enough to take in a partner like Freezy did, and maybe a Capricorn just wouldn’t be capable of doing that. Regardless of sun, he is a Scorpio rising. Why else would he keep that creepy hair and wear those insane shirts? and that ice cream truck? Don’t get me started. He thinks he’s cute.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? that’s he’s fucking crazy. i see him really liking bondage, and like the extreme kind. but i know he can be good w aftercare, i just know it.

Curtis:

Man is a Virgo. He didn’t create the plan on his own, but he was willing to follow it without hesitation. He sacrificed a loved one for the plan, in a way only an earth sign could. But he’s not stubborn nor is he particularly cold. I think, despite the walls he put up, he was very desperate for love. I will give him a cancer rising too. It was that desire to be a martyr and the guilt of simply not being able to do it.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? attention to detail! so, legit, Curtis will learn how to fuck you and learn exactly what you want, what makes you come, what makes you do all of those little things he likes, like crying, begging, whining, before he even lets you do anything for him. he acts like fucking you is his job and all he wants is to be the best at it.

Nick:

Now hear me out because the next time I say this sign, the man is going to be the polar opposite of Nick. But honey doll is a Libra with a Scorpio moon. He’s fucking addicted to love and he can only fall in love so damn fast because he’s an air sign. And I’ll also give him a cancer rising because we saw how hung up he was on his ex.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? as romantic as Nick is, he never wants to stop fucking you. and it’s never quick or simple, he thinks it’s sacrilegious to not spend an entire night on you. butttttt it can be so slow and it’s mostly because he knows how mad it makes you sometimes. i picture this man eating you out until you’re threatening to break up with him if he doesn’t fuck you immediately, and okay maybe that’s an extreme reaction, but he’s made you come too many times and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop unless you make him.

Me from playing it cool, impossible bc it was a pretty gross character. I’m not even interested in analyzing it. It’s just going to sound like I’m coming for someone if I try.

Frank:

my baby! My man is a Leo. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I think that whole calmness about him is a façade. He’s lying to us to lure us into a false sense of trust, then bam, you’re in love with him and he’s ruining your life. And he’s going to keep you around to hook up with you and then continuously break your heart and use Mary as an excuse. The real reason? He’s angry bc he caught feelings.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? before he admits he’s in love with you, he’s a huge tease. a huge fucking tease who constantly taunts you, and at first, it really upsets you because he just reduces you to such a fucking mess and thinks it’s funny, but you soon get over, even start to like when he calls you all those terrible names you would never let another man call you. after, that’s a lot different. he wants dates, serious, elaborate dates, and he loves telling you what he’s going to do to you and making you wait for it. but mostly he just wants to push you to the point where you’re so impatient, you just start taking.

Mr. Levinson:

is a Scorpio. He’s cold and cruel and all to meet his end goal. But there’s also that addictive aspect too, he literally couldn’t live a normal life. He needs to be out there for that specific mission no matter how many people want him to stop. And it’s clear that it’s only death that can stop him. And he’s super self righteous about it, we see that in how he talks to Sammy.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? truly skilled at quickly fucking you and genuinely never leaving you wanting (for anything other than a normal life with him ofc, but seriously, you couldn’t ask for more in your sex life) but you know what the best part of him is? the after-mission sex. he doesn’t say much but he fucks you differently enough that you start to learn what he’s feeling that way. and the best sex? after particularly dangerous missions where you took a risk you didn’t need to or got a little too close to danger for his comfort. he won’t yell at you or try to talk you out of being you, he understands what kind of life you both have, but the way he fucks you makes it clear that the last thing he wants is to lose you. and what’s after sex? soooooo muchhhhhh cuddling!

Money daddy:

We’ve already discussed it! Libra. But you know what? He’s hella evil. Virgo moon, that crazy plan was all Virgo moon. Leo rising, I have no actual reason for this other than I know three men who are Leo risings and they’re straight trash lol. They’re selfish and their actions are usually dictated by their irrational emotions. They always act like they’re right too, and like you’re insane for ever questioning them. And they’re super manipulative.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? nothing good at the start tbh. he’s going to pretend that you’re literally nothing more than a hook up, he’s going to play games and make you jealous, and only if you’re strong enough to stick it out, he’ll admit the truth. (which is that there was never anyone else as soon as he took you out on that first date) but other than that, we all know ransom has a degrading kink. which probably creates a lot of roleplay scenarios where you pretend to be various members of staff and he pretends to be a customer that’s less than pleased with your performance.

The daddy of all daddies:

again, we’ve already talked about it. he’s a Capricorn. But let’s take it further with a scorpio moon. All those walls he put up, all the lying, and keeping those feelings to himself, undeniably Scorpio, along with probably at least 3 other placements. But there’s also just something about him that is comforting and sweet so I’d give him a Taurus rising.

what does this mean about how he fucks you? well, the Capricorn makes him a fucking demon. he just always wants you under him, or at least bound, disadvantaged in some small way. he likes reminding you that he is in charge and that no one is better at it than him. but then that Taurus rising makes him soooooo good with aftercare and intimacy that practically suffocates you on those mornings you wake up together or the rare weekends you guys have before he demands that you move in with him.

[sugaxjpg]

ghosts just wanna have fun; m

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

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

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

✓ Words: 20,062

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook sighed. “I just—”

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

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

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

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

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

He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 

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

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

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

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

Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_________________

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

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

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

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

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

Well, most days it was. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”

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

He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

________________

But that was, ultimately, what he did.

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

Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 

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

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

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

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

_______________

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

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

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

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

Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” You asked. 

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

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

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

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

And that’s when it happened. 

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

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

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

Yep. He totally did that. 

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

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

Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost choked on air. “You what?” 

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

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

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

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

“How?” Taehyung asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged. “You asked.” 

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

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

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

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

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

But desperate times require desperate measures. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”

“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.

He nodded. “Much better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you there,” he said. 

You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 

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

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

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

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

_________________

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

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

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

Yep, it would be a difficult night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he did, and even reached beyond that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.

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

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

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

You smiled. “Perfect.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

___________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he was really about to fall apart. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out of my own place?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

[rustbeltjessie]

I’ve been trying to avoid saying anything about Big Famous Movie Man vs The Ex-Wife He Abused. Initially I was trying to avoid even knowing anything about it, but it has become unavoidable. And it’s starting to make me feel fucking insane, so I have to say something. Without disclosing full details of my own abusive relationships—I’ve written about them before, and I’m sure I will again—let me just say that I can relate to AH a bit because I was in abusive relationships where I was the “crazy,” “toxic” girlfriend. I was slutty, I drank a lot and did drugs, I was bipolar (still am, but generally am managing it better these days), etc. I also was driven at a couple points with a couple different people into reacting “violently.” With one guy, I threw a coffee mug at the wall (nowhere near where he was sitting, by the way); with another guy, I threw a punch at him (but I was so drunk I missed, and even if the punch had landed he was way bigger and stronger than me, so it probably wouldn’t have hurt him much). Both of those guys then used those incidents as further “proof” that I was the volatile, abusive one in the relationship. Because of those reasons, it took me years after those relationships were over to label what I’d gone through as abuse. For the longest time, the most I could say was: “Well, sure, X did or said so and so and it was awful, but I was pretty shitty to him, too.”

I’m not going to say much more about my own past right now, but my points are this:

1. AH might very well be a shitty, toxic person. I don’t care. I don’t care if she screamed at him or cheated on him or took pills or anything else. It doesn’t mean they were mutually abusive, and it doesn’t mean she deserves any of what has happened to her.

2. Sometimes, if you are being abused, you get driven to the point where you react. Even violently. It still doesn’t mean you are also abusive, or that you deserve to be abused.

[princessbatears]

I'm a storyteller both by trade and by hobby, and I understand a lot about how effective television storytelling works, in particular. My background has given me a different perspective than most people with regards to the finale, particularly what happens between Din and Grogu. Normally, I don’t get involved in fandom discussions, but I was encouraged to share my take on this. Spoilers below the cut in case I miss some tags, lol.

When I watched the episode this morning, I wasn't prepared for what happened. Like many of us, I expected a terrible cliffhanger or a neat conclusion like we got in the last season. Instead, Din encouraged his son to become a Jedi, leaving himself (and the rest of us) more than a little devastated. It was brutal. But also brilliant. Din and Grogu's individual and family arcs in this season came to a close in a way more beautiful than I could have expected. At the beginning of the season, Din kept Grogu at his side and protected him, but he was determined to pass him off to a Jedi. In part, this was because he believed it was Grogu's own good, but also because he wasn't ready to accept his fatherhood. We see this in the episode with Ahsoka. Even though he didn't want to say goodbye, he was willing to thrust Grogu upon her. When Ahsoka refused, Din was genuinely relieved and finally admitted to himself that he loved him and wanted him to stay a part of his life. That was further confirmed by the lengths he went to in order to get him back from Gideon.

Meanwhile, Grogu's gone through his own arc. We learned from Ahsoka that he hid his powers out of fear. We also learned that he's very afraid of being separated from Din, who he sees as his family. It's completely understandable. He's young and been through a lot. But that fear also makes it harder for him to train, so Ahsoka rejects him. Grogu himself continues to be a little reluctant to use his powers, needing encouragement from Din (unless it's to steal cookies). When he's captured, he fights the best he can to get away, but that fighting doesn't end up doing him much good because he can't control himself. It's my impression that, by the end of the season, Grogu's realized that he needs to be able to master his powers, not just to protect himself, but to protect Din, too. He's finally ready to step into his strength and become all that he can be, which is why he decides to go with Luke.

Din did not want Grogu to go. Everything in his being screamed that. He even say to Luke, "He doesn't want to go with you." However, when Luke explains what's going on, Din realizes that he must put Grogu's needs before his own. It's in Grogu's best interest to be nurtured in the ways of the Force, as he's always suspected, but now letting Grogu looks different than it did before. It wasn't Din rejecting his love for his son or pushing the responsibility of him onto someone else. He even did several things differently from when he tried to give Grogu to Ahsoka. First, he promises they'll see each other again. Personally, I don't think this is the end of them being together, even though Din says Grogu belongs with Luke (also more on that soon). Second, Din tells him not to be afraid. He wants Grogu to become confident in himself and all he can be. Third, he takes off his helmet to show his boy his face and let him touch him. While this is a huge sacrifice on his part because others also see his face, it is proof to Grogu that they are family and that they will always be family. Fourth, Din sets Grogu down on the floor and lets him walk to Luke. This is vitally important. In the past, he's tried to physically hand him over. This time, he lets Grogu make his own decision once and for all. Grogu walks over to look and asks to be picked up, indicating he truly wants to be trained. Din recognized him as an autonomous being with his own will, and respected and encouraged that, like a good father does. Was it easy? Absolutely not, but it was the right thing to do.

I'm not sure what Season 3 will look like as far as Din and Grogu's relationship goes. Maybe Grogu won't feature as prominently, maybe there will be a time jump, maybe something will happen and Luke will bring him back? I have no idea. None of us do. However, what I do know is that heart of the show is the relationship between Din and Grogu. I believe Filoni and Favreau know this, as does Disney. Grogu has made Disney actually relevant again, he's made them an insane amount of money, and I don't think they're going to let that cash cow go any time soon. So, everybody, please don't despair. It's going to be okay! ❤️

I'd also like to take a moment to discuss Luke. My feelings on this have evolved as I'm processed the episode over the last few hours. Initially, I wasn't very happy. I felt like a lot of people do. Why does it always have to be Skywalkers? Why couldn't it be somebody—anybody—else? Why did that have to do that weird CGI thing with his face that wigs me out? (That, admittedly, I'm still not a fan of, lol.) But with some time, I've realized that Luke makes sense. There's the inescapable fact that Star Wars is about the Skywalkers. They're the central characters of this universe. If Movies 6-9 hadn't been as godawful as they were, I think many of us wouldn't resent this fact so much. We're jaded, understandably. However, I don't believe it's fair to judge The Mandalorian's choice to include him based on other creators screwing him up in a future timeline. So far, Favreau and Filoni have been nothing but respectful of the Star Wars universe and its characters, and I'm choosing to trust them with this. But that aside, Luke is likely the only Jedi in the whole galaxy who would take Grogu as an Apprentice. Ahsoka didn't want him, too scarred by her own experiences and traumas. She also comes with the baggage the Temple placed upon its students, which was, if you have any "dark" qualities, you're untrainable. Meanwhile, in the original trilogy, Luke learned how to become a Jedi even though his legacy was those "dark" qualities. He overcame his own anger and fear and started new Jedi traditions. He's the perfect person at this point in his life to teach Grogu how to master his powers. He is obviously aware of how important Grogu is to Din and he'll take good care of him until the family can be reunited.

Personally, I loved this finale, especially the last few minutes. They absolutely destroyed me on a human level, but excited me as a writer and storyteller. By shaking the show up like this, it keeps the audience on their toes and reminds us that anything can happen. Din and Grogu's relationship is why people are so invested and throwing this huge kink that creates a massive conflict that the audience is desperate to have resolved. Aside from one of them actually dying (which would have me throw the show in the garbage), very little else could create such a reaction, which is the whole point. I can't wait to see what the creatives throw at us next year! 😃

[chastiefoul]

first kiss(es) | itafushi.

word count : 2.045

in which Itadori tell Fushiguro he is cute. very cute.

---

Itadori and Fushiguro had made hanging out together every night a habit. There is hardly any day where they did not go to each other’s room where they did everything and also nothing. Some nights it would be movies, with Itadori spoiling everything unintentionally. Due to the training he just had not so while back ago, he already knew most of the famous movies were all about.

Itadori would like to call it knowledge but Fushiguro had made it perfectly clear that it was just straight up bragging.

Some other nights it’d also be quiet, with the dark-haired male reading and Itadori playing on his phone. Whether it’s loud or the opposite, it’s clear that these guys enjoyed the company of one another.

Though there is also a rare night like this. Where they both somehow laying on the bed with nothing to do, the sliding door that led outside opened a bit on purpose, just to let enough wind went in. Itadori would sneak a hand to Fushiguro’s raven locks, tracing his finger slightly along the strand of hair. Physical contact wasn’t something the younger male was familiar with at all but unless you had confronted him about this, not once Fushiguro had ever complained the subtle gesture.

Not that he should.

Itadori drew his hand back just to get something out of the boy beside him. Fushiguro that had been closing his eyes for the entire time turned his expression into somewhat of a discontent when the hand that was on his head was no longer there. It did not went unnoticed for Itadori as he chuckled softly,

“You know Fushiguro, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.. But you’re really cute aren’t you?” The salmon-haired man grinned, his eyes glistened with a slight obvious adoration, except of course not really to the oblivious friend of his. At this Fushiguro raised an eyebrow, annoyed. “Haah?” He said, displeasured, though if it wasn’t for the minimum light, it could be seen that Fushiguro’s face has been tinted with the color pink of embarrassment.

“See? That’s cute.” Itadori continued, still smiling. Clearly seeing how happy Itadori was teasing him, Fushiguro turned his back, sulking. “Shut up,” he mumbled incoherently with whatever little amount fight left in him.

“Still cute,” Itadori smiled yet again. “Honestly, you-“ Before Fushiguro’s complaint even reached its end, Itadori grabbed the shikigami user’s shoulder, and pinned him down against the bed. The gesture was perfect in timing, it was not rough nor it’s uncomfortable, it’s just right. At least that’s what Fushiguro think so, cause he shouldn’t know, he never encountered a circumstance such as this before.

Even then, Itadori totally caught him off guard, Fushiguro’s face clearly flushed, eyes running away.

“Yeah, totally cute.” His usual grin came back, looking down contently to a pair of dark blue orbs that belonged to Fushiguro. The gesture irked the raven-haired man way more than it should, he went to grab Itadori’s face, gripping it as a way of getting back at him.

“Ow, ow, quit being so harsh!” Itadori grabbed Fuhiguro’s wrist, stopping it before it’s harming his face any further. “Then quit being an idiot,” Fushiguro said with an annoyed tone, though as if contradicting himself, his one hand went limp, giving to Itadori’s touch completely.

Seeing that as a stamp of approval and an invitation to keep going, Itadori slowly drew his face closer to Fushiguro’s, bringing his gaze to his lips, making it obvious as to what Itadori wanted.

“Can I?” He lingered there for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Fushiguro’s gaze.

The latter man shivered under the usual goofy boy’s stare, though it wasn’t really an expression of scared but more like, excited? He never even thought about getting in a position such as this with his friend let alone finding out that he was actually eager for Itadori to kiss him?

Not letting his pride slid down yet, Fushiguro decided to be mischief about it, though honestly he was just as desperate as the other male to have his lips’ need met. “Can you what?” Fushiguro himself was surprised that he could manage a voice barely above a whisper, considering Itadori’s hot breath pressed against his jaw was kind of threatening Fushiguro’s insanity.

Yet, it was the same for Itadori. When you were pining someone below you to find out he had the prettiest face and had been looking at you with a gaze so desperate underneath those long lashes, it’s kind of decided early that Fushiguro Megumi is a man with a tremendous charm, and an irresistible one at that.

Wait scratch that. Itadori had always known that Fushiguro is beautiful. Stunning, even, if he dared to be dramatic about it. So it wasn’t a surprise anymore that situations like these are bound to happen, exactly like how people around them had been saying.

How Kugisaki had shared a knowing look that the both of them were too tired to interpret, how Gojo had been snickering quietly everytime the two of them were in the same room. Also the time where Inumaki given up a seat besides Fushiguro just for Itadori to sit, and that time too, and many more times after that too.

Everyone had long been involved in that relationship, before Itadori and Fushiguro could even figure out what was it in their chest that felt painfully tight, everytime the room visit occurred.

“Kiss you,” Itadori finished, drawing his lips dangerously close to Fushiguro’s, stopping at just the right distance upon not hearing a yes from the boy below him, though he’s guessing it was just to be annoying. “You always ask too many questions,” Fushiguro let out quietly, just enough for Itadori to hear, and just enough to let him know that he needed it fast.

Itadori smiled into the kiss as the younger male circled his arms around Itadori’s neck, bringing him even closer. Their lips met each other at an agonizing pace, yet it was just right for them and no one else. Though a tad sloppy for a bunch of firsts, it was just as passionate as any other kiss that happened at nights on different places. The kiss between the two was not any less meaningful than the couples that shared a goodbye kiss at mornings where one of them had to leave, it was not any less sweet than a quick surprise kiss they had seen so many lovers done, and it was definitely not less than a kiss that was shared between two platonic friends anywhere in the worl-

Wait. Why are they kissing?!

The teasing- That’s where Itadori usually knew where to draw the line and to not ever cross it, but as it’s been said before, they didn’t get a night like this that much. The dim room, the cozy breeze, the exhausment that could make anyone’s head is not on the right mind, and each other. It was a crazy coincidence that at the same time after staring each other for a good amount, Itadori had known that he will never meet a man more desirable than Fushiguro, and no one will ever has this magnetic effect on pulling him constantly just to be with the said person.

And the latter man has never wanted so much when he grew up, but that kiss that longed for him a moment ago, he felt like he could kill just to have his vacant lips be filled with Itadori’s. No, not just for that night where he was swept off his feet, but for next morning, and also a long time after that.

Realization descended after them at the same time, they both pulled away from the kiss. As painful as it was.

For a solid minute, there’s just silence. Both of them still trying to pick the words that had to be said after that happened. When the both of them finished observing whatever it was so interesting about the bedroom sheets –as they’ve been staring at it so intently- they both said at the same time.

”So-“

“I-“

“You first,” Fushiguro yielded characteristically. “Okay,” Itadori agreed, taking a deep breath somehow nervous, but isn’t it a bit too late for that considering the intense proximity they both just experienced?

“Shouldn’t there be something, you know, before this part?” The pink-haired boy said sheepishly, eyes darted around. Fushiguro was no better, his ears were red all the way to the tip, his heart beat loudly against his ribcage. “Like a confession?” Still, he managed.

“Like a confession.” Itadori confirmed, his gaze finally returned and rested it on Fushiguro’s.”Okay, you go first,” the younger male started—someone had to. “Wha-why me?!” Itadori protested.

“You kissed me first,” Fushiguro stated, “You kissed me back!” Itadori stared at him in disbelief, mostly because how he thought Fushiguro could get away with this with a weak argument such as that.

“Right, shouldn’t that be enough..” Fushiguro stopped halfway, not used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, “proof.. that I want you?” He finished, the last part was barely a mumble. Still, Itadori managed to get that. Of course he did. He never, not once, did not listen to what the quiet boy had to say.

Hearing that, a shade of pink appeared on Itadori’s face, a few darker shade that the one he has on his hair. He smiled through it, grinning from ear to ear. “Me too. I want you too. No, Not just because you said that first, but truly, I’ve wanted you for a very long time. I like you so much Fushiguro, Maybe I’ve just been too scared about this confrontation because of the change it might bring to us, or to you. I guess I was scared you’d look at me differently and honestly that would be worst thing to ever happened.” He reached out to the slender finger Fushiguro owned, holding it gently. The neediness and urgence that was once there has turned into an act so prudent.

That tugged some of Fushiguro’s heart strings, the rarity of a warm feeling engulfed him. “Stupid, the only change I’m going through right now is that realizing that turns out I can like you more than I already was.” His heart is full, to some extent, though it’s a very scary thing to admit, that Itadori has become such an important person to him that it is not possible for Fushiguro to be whole anymore without him in his life.

Without any further prompt, they both knew that words are no longer needed. Itadori reached out, this time with certainty and spring on his hands, Fushiguro just closed his eyes surrendering his lips, but how surprised he got when the one who made contact with the other male was his eyelids, so gentle, exceptionally incredibly loving, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with heaviness inside his stomach.

The kiss didn’t stop there, feather lightly trailing along the dark-haired male’s jaw like teasing because Itadori knew it wasn’t enough. Fushiguro was more sure of that because he could feel the smirk forming beside him.

Yet before letting Fushiguro has anything to protest against him, Itadori pressed a soft kiss, exactly like the one Fushiguro had been hoping for. He couldn’t help but smile and gave in, their mouth moving in an attempt to match each other. Honestly? They had no idea what they’re doing but it felt so damn good. The genuiness of a first kiss (well, second if you counted the impulsive teenage boys’ hormones) flew right between the two of them, there’s this rawness that felt like an electric spark every time their lips met each other. They couldn’t get enough, even though it was clear from the conversation they just had that doing this is something they’re gonna do a lot in the future to a point where they could already hear Kugisaki groaning and rolled her eyes at them, looking so done.

They pulled away, faces still extremely close to each other as if it pains them if it’s the opposite.

Still smiling, Itadori asked, “Now what?”

Fushiguro pretended to ponder for a moment, “Do that all over again?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They laughed, before leaning in yet again.

Let’s just say, those are a lot of kisses for a first kiss.

[vagabondreamer]

After the Fall (4)

Pairing: Lucifer x Angel! Fem! MC

Word Count: 2k

Series Summary: Angel! Fem! MC is part of an exchange program that sends her to the Devildom for a year.

Chapter Summary: MC spends some much needed time with Simeon, Luke, and Solomon.

Author’s Note: I totally headcanon that angels are touch-starved.

***

You wanted to shove his pride right down his throat. Throughout the week you had to endure his smug expression and his little comments that were meant to embarrass you, but it just made you mad. Being in the house was driving you insane. Mammon was always glued by your side trying to come up with money-making schemes, Asmo kept flirting, Satan was always asking about the history of your people - as if he didn’t have brothers more knowledgeable than you - and Beel, well, Beel was about the only person not driving you insane. You had barely seen Levi at all, so he didn’t really count at the moment.

Class had just ended, and you could already hear the boisterous Mammon waiting outside the hall for you. Needing a little break from the boys for the weekend, you looked to your angel friends.

“Hey Simeon, do you think I could spend a night or two at the Purgatory Hall?” He looked at you with concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel overwhelmed.”

“Of course she can stay over for a sleepover!” Luke was practically jumping out of his seat.

“Well, I’d love to have you over, there just really isn’t any room. Plus, you’d have to ask Lucifer for permission.”

“Why do I have to ask Lucifer?” You were getting desperate. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“He’s going to freak out again if you just leave without letting him know where you are.”

“Fine, whatever, I’ll ask. But, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Walking out of class, you had one mission, and that was to find Lucifer.

“Hey MC, how was class?”

“It was alright. How was yours?”

“Boring. The only thing more boring than class is Lucifer’s lectures.” You laughed at that. Anytime Mammon involved you in one of his plans, it always ended in a lecture for the both of you.

“Speaking of, have you seen Lucifer? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s probably in a meeting with Lord Diavolo.” He grabbed your hand and started walking in the direction toward the council room. You looked down at your connected hands, and a weird feeling bubbled up in your stomach. “Hey! It’s not like I wanna hold your hand! There’s just too many demons, don’t want ya to get lost.”

You rolled your eyes. He was always a little dramatic. It’s not like you had never held hands with anyone before, but you were a kid back then. Angels didn’t really hug or hold hands as adults, it was always deemed a little too inappropriate - even if it was platonic. You liked the bubbly feeling, even if it was coming from Mammon.

Mammon led you down a long hall, at the end sat a set of large doors.

“Make sure ya knock before goin’ in.” Geez, if Mammon was the one to say that, then it must be pretty serious. “Think you can get Lucifer to take ya home?” You nodded and he went on his way.

Standing in front of the large doors, you gave a hard two knocks; the sound resonated in the halls. You could hear shuffling behind the door, and it swiftly opened up, showing Barbatos.

“Can I help you, MC?”

“I need to speak to Lucifer, is he here?”

“Can it wait until after the meeting? He’s with Lord Dia -”

“MC!” Speak of the devil.

“Hi, Lord Diavolo.” His smile and energy was contagious, you couldn’t help but smile back. But in the background, you could see the familiar scowl. You knew you had to make this quick. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just -”

“It’s alright MC, come join us, we were just talking about student affairs.” He ushered you in, leading you to a seat right next to Lucifer. You felt completely out of place, and Lucifer’s stare wasn’t helping. “Before you speak, I just want to say I am sorry about what happened. You should know that those boys have been taken care of.”

And in that instant, you were taken back to that horrible memory. Your hand reached up to feel the scars that reside permanently on your face. You knew you were being irrational, Lucifer was just doing his job and the marks on your face would’ve been questioned - but you couldn’t help but be angry. Why did he have to report it? You looked over at him, expecting to meet his gaze, but his eyes were focused on Lord Diavolo. It seemed like he didn’t expect Lord Diavolo to ever approach you about the subject - he seemed pissed off. You took a deep breath and shoved the memories back down.

“Thank you.” Is that what he wanted to hear? His concerned smile looked genuine, and his apology sincere. But why did it feel like you couldn’t tell him what you really felt? By all means, he was royalty, but he wasn’t your ruler. Maybe it was because of how Lucifer treated him. He was clearly upset with him, yet he wasn’t expressing it. You wondered how he must’ve treated Michael - it’s no wonder Michael was so fond of him. And it’s no wonder why Michael would never treat you the same - you weren’t Lucifer and you would never be.

“So, MC, what did you want to talk about?” It felt silly asking for permission for something so trivial, especially in front of the future king.

“I just wanted to spend some time with Simeon and Luke. Over the weekend?”

“Is everything okay at the House of Lamentation?”

“Of course. I just think it would be good for me to be around them, too.”

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea.” You looked to Lucifer, you were asking him permission.

“You heard Lord Diavolo.”

“Thanks,” you told both of them. You left the room and waited right outside the door for Lucifer to be done with his meeting.

***

Lucifer had escorted you home to pack an overnight bag, and then brought you to the Purgatory Hall. Not much was said, both of you were in a bad mood due to the meeting. You said your goodbyes, and he reminded you to text him if you needed something. Walking inside, the presence was immediately different and it reminded you of home.

“Hey guys!”

“MC! I’m so glad you could come!” Luke rushed over to you - he was covered in flour.

“What are you doing, Luke?”

“I wanted to bake for you! And, since you’re close to Michael then you can tell me if it’s good enough to give him, too!” He urged you towards the kitchen; the countertops were filled with sweets of all sorts - it would be a dream come true for Beel.

“I wouldn’t say I’m close to Michael. He kind of just orders me around.”

“Ah, you’re so lucky you’re next in line to be an Archangel!”

You just nodded, and started taste testing. It was a huge honor, and almost never happened to angels. But even then, you didn’t feel lucky. Your path was forged for you, the sole reason for your existence was to take Lucifer’s spot, and for some reason that bothered you.

“Luke, are you done now?” You could hear Simeon call out from a different room.

“Yes! You can let him out now!” You gave Luke a questioning look. “Oh, Solomon’s not allowed in the kitchen when I’m baking.”

Simeon and Solomon both walked out of the room, and sat by you at the table.

“He likes to add his own flavors,” Simeon explained further. “It’s usually not very good tasting.”

“Ya know what? I’m offended,” Solomon feigned hurt. You giggled at their interaction. It had only been a short while, and they were all getting along so well. “So, did you get tired of being around the brothers already?”

“Well -” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t tired, but they weren’t exactly all that bad either. “Each one is just...a lot. There’s a lot of big personalities.”

“Yeah being around Asmo alone is a lot, I can’t imagine being around six more,” Solomon said half jokingly.

“Six?”

“Oh, right, five.”

“Luke, these treats are divine!” Simeon changed the subject quickly. Why did it feel like talking about the seventh brother was a crime?

“Yeah, I think Michael would like these.”

“Really?!” You just nodded and smiled. After all, you did come here to try to not think about the brothers.

The rest of the night consisted of dinner and watching movies until Luke and Solomon passed out. Simeon placed blankets on top of them and called you to his room. It was spacious, and had a couch in the corner.

“You can take the bed,” Simeon said as he started to prepare the couch to be slept on.

“What? No, I’m not taking your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“MC, it’s no big deal -”

“I don’t want to feel like a burden every time I come over.”

“You plan on coming here more often?”

“Well, only if I’m welcomed.”

“Of course you’re welcome.” You quickly laid on the couch, forcing him to go lay down on his bed. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Just a lot has happened in these few weeks.”

“You’re feeling new things...am I right?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“I volunteered Luke to be a part of this program - but don’t tell him, because he doesn’t know that.”

“Okay.”

“I did that because I think it’s important for young angels to see things from...a different perspective.” You nodded in agreement. “I see things differently because of the war. And because I wanted to see things differently.”

“What are you saying?” He hesitated for a moment, as if calculating his next words.

“All I’m saying is it’s not a bad thing to see the other side.”

You meditated on his words. He had known the brothers for a long time, so it made sense to have some sympathy over what happened; but why would you sympathize with all demons? How could you forgive any demon? The marks on your face was proof enough that they did bad things.

“Simeon?”

“Yeah?” He yawned.

“Do you ever feel like...like you don’t have your own life? Like, your purpose is someone else’s?”

No response. You turned your head to see Simeon fast asleep.

***

Simeon walked you back home. The walk was filled with small talk, and your stomach turned at the thought of being alone with the brothers once more. He must’ve seen the look on your face, and tried to reassure you.

“Just try to get to know them better. You should try to get to know Levi, too.”

“He’s always stuck in his room, how am I supposed to get to know him if I don’t know the secret phrase?”

“Secret phrase? Oh, yeah, I know it.” You laughed, thinking he was joking.

“Oh you’re serious? What is it?” He proceeded to tell you the password, and informed you that it was from TSL.

You gave him a hug goodbye. The shocked look on his face said it all.

“I’m sorry - I know we don’t do that - but wasn’t it nice?”

“It was, MC. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Bye, Simeon.”

You walked into the house, and headed up the stairs to your room when you saw a wild Levi out in the open. Now was your chance, you knew you had to catch him now or never.

“Levi!”

“AH!” He shrieked and beelined to his room, dropping some snacks he was carrying.

“Wait!” You made it to his door just as he was closing it, and stuck your foot out to stop him from shutting it. “I know the secret phrase!”

“Ha! There’s no way a normie like you could know it!” You then repeated what Simeon just told you moments ago. Levi stopped trying to close the door, but barely opened it up, eyeing you instead.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Why would you want to know a yucky otaku like me?”

“Well, I’m here for a year. And I’ve already talked to the rest of your brothers.”

Levi opened the door more, allowing you to step into the shadows of his room.

“Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

After the Fall Tag List @ptv-hades

[kairos-polaris]

Revelations and not so secret crushes

A little gift for @bunathebunny . Also @miraculousmelodies , like I promised

People make mistakes all the time. And it's okay! Failure is a part of progress and if you never fail, then you don't do anything at all.

One may argue that mistaking potions for milk and eating someone's special macaroons wasn't this type of mistake. "He should have been more careful," they say. But did you try to make coffee in a kitchen littered with potions while also being sleep deprived? No? Thought so.

The last paragraph was specifically written for Dick's younger brothers, Jason Todd and Tim Drake. Those two decided that it was a great idea to make fun of their dearest elder brother and his very unfortunate mistake. And even if Tim was perfectly aware of struggles that came with making coffee while being sleep deprived, he didn't have to worry that white liquid may be a potion, not milk.

But in the end Dick was very grateful for that small mistake. It has resolved several conflicts and had very unpredictable consequences.

***

It was morning. Just a normal winter morning. You know, when it's too dark and far too cold and you don't want to leave your bed? That was a morning like that.

Normal men don't get up at six a.m but Richard "Dick" Grayson wasn't one. And it's good, because his family was neither normal nor sane.

"Being normal is boring," his girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would say. If it were someone else, Dick would wholeheartedly agree with them while hanging upside down from the chandelier in the manor.

But because it was Marinette, Dick had to immediately assume she hasn't been sleeping or eating healthy for the last 48 hours. Usually, he was wrong, but he did enjoy taking care of her.

Another proof that shows how much Dick Grayson isn't a normal or sane man is vigilantism. You see, normal people deal with trauma by talking about it with a therapist or their friends. And do you know what did Dick do? He donned his family's colour and decided to beat up criminals. What a great idea! And Bruce Wayne allowed it because, apparently, fighting crime is an appropriate hobby for a nine-year-old boy. (Don't worry, Brucie, we know that Dick Grayson is too stubborn and he forced you to make him your sidekick, we don't blame you much)

No matter how much not normal or insane Dick was, he was a good man who wanted to help people. That's why he didn't complain to Bruce about being tired after patrols. Much.

It didn't mean he didn't complain to Marinette though. Hugs and kisses were an added bonus to her being a very good listener. But that morning Marinette was too busy to even notice him. Dick tried his hardest to swallow his disappointment. He knew how important every commission was to Marinette. It was her passion and her life.

He sighed with the most miserable expression he could muster but Marinette didn't even look up. She continued sewing and ignoring his brilliant performance. Dick huffed with annoyance. How could she ignore him when he was sitting on their bed looking so sad and exhausted and hot?

***

Kitchen was the best room in their apartment. It was also the safest one because of Marinette's protection charms and spells. There was always a faint smell of pastry and delicious food.

Preparing coffee was completely mechanical. His tiredness didn't let him comprehend his own actions. That's why he didn't notice the strange taste of the drink as he should have.

Dick immediately felt better after finishing his coffee. He felt like a burden was lifted from his shoulders. It made him think about Marinette. His lovely girlfriend. He wanted to, no, he craved to see her. He could bet she smelled amazing.

Marinette was still working when he entered their room (she preferred her bedroom to any office). His heart swelled with tenderness at the image before him. Marinette was biting her lip, strands of hair in her face. She was also wearing his sweater, which made him roll his eyes, because it was the very same sweater he had lost. She was so concentrated that she didn't even notice him entering their bedroom.

Dick slowly approached Marinette to not spook her. "I love you, Cupcake," he confessed out of blue. Marinette jumped at the sound of his voice making Dick cringe internally. "I'm sorry for startling you, Mari." The woman just laughed and took off her glasses. Apparently, sewing in deem light isn't good for your eyes. And how could she know that?

"No, don't be sorry. I should pay more attention to my surroundings," Marinette suddenly stopped mid sentence. "I'm sorry for ignoring you earlier, Birdy. Do you want a hug?" Dick grinned at her offer and immediately scooped her in his arms.

"I know it's been a stressful week. What do you think about staying in bed the whole day? We can watch a movie. We can watch the Ladybug one and make fun of inaccuracies. Or any other superhero movie," he ranted excitedly. Marinette laughed a little and pulled back slightly. Dick's was adorable, but Marinette had a feeling that he wouldn't appreciate her laugh.

"I have to finish this dress for Clara, you know that," Marinette sighed tiredly. She really wanted to take a break and spend the day with her boyfriend. He always knew when she was too tired to continue working. Maybe, today was a day like that?

It was unfair to keep Marinette from her passion and Dick knew it. But! He wanted to spend some time with his wonderful girlfriend. It wasn't his fault she was the cutest person he has ever met. And he still couldn't make her choose between her passion and him. Dick sighed and started moving slowly to let Marinette out.

"Hey, I didn't say no," Marinette laughed at his hopeful gaze. "Yes, I would really like to spend more time with you."

And that's how Marinette found herself suffocating in a tight grip of her boyfriend. She actually didn't mind it. Feeling his weight on her body was the best feeling ever. It reminded her that he was with her, grounded her, when she was too concentrated on her work.

Marinette didn't really focus on the movie that was playing. Something was off and she couldn't focus. Dick was talking but she couldn't understand a word so focused on her feelings.

"...Marinette? Marinette?" Dick's worried voice drew her out of haze. She could see concern in his eyes so she tried smiling as reassuring as possible. Dick didn't seem convinced but hard lines on his face relaxed a little bit.

"I'm sorry. I dozed off. Cuddling with you always makes me sleepy, you know that." Dick sighed and hugged her even tighter. "What were you talking about?"

"I wanted your opinion about the next Titan's mission. You see, Wally has offered this strategy…"

Marinette listened to his every word very attentively. His excitement was obvious in every line and small movement. He was proud of Wally and his ideas, he wanted to share it with her.

"Do you know that you've spent more time complimenting Wally than actually relaying his strategy?" Marinette asked with a teasing smile. His face and neck were immediately covered with red spots.

"I… I… I have a crush on Wally!" Dick blurted out and Marinette felt like all air from her lungs disappeared. Colour left Dick's face immediately after realising what he had said. He started babbling how much he loved her, how important she was for him, he kissed her cheeks and hands. But all Marinette could focus on was that… she had lost a bet. Jason would be unbearable for the next several weeks. Or maybe even months. Marinette shuddered at the thought.

"Marinette, please, say something. Please. I'm sorry," Dick was clearly panicking and for a moment Marinette wanted to prank him. Pretend that she was hurt and then explain that it was because of her bet with Jason. But it felt too cruel, so she took his hand and smiled reassuringly.

"I knew it," she said, and Dick's bewildered expression was worth her honesty. "And it's okay, because it's possible to love multiple people at the same time. You loving Wally doesn't mean you don't love me." Dick stayed still for a long moment before leaning to her and knocking her breath out with a kiss. Marinette tried to lean away but he chased her lips every time, continuing kissing her.

"I love you so much. I don't know what I have done to deserve someone like you, but I will keep you until the end of the Universe," he whispered into her lips when they finally pulled a part.

"I love you, too. And falling for you felt like the easiest thing in the world," she said breathlessly, making Dick snort. He let out an involuntary whine when she leaned even further away.

"Why were you so upset?" Dick asked after several minutes of silence. Marinette murmured something into his shirt but he couldn't understand a word. "Can you repeat it please? I didn't understand a word you've said."

"Because I've lost a bet," she repeated just barely louder, but thankfully Dick heard her clearly this time.

"A bet?" he asked with the most confused and bewildered expression possible.

"You see, both Jason and I knew about your crush on Wally. And one day we were bored, so we started talking about you two. Jason said that you would blurt it out during an inappropriate moment but I thought you would sit me down and explain everything. So now, because of you I will have to give Jason 10 dollars," Marinette explained, carefully gouging hir reaction.

Dick prepared himself to hear a lot of different explanations. They varied from "I was surprised and didn't know how to react" to "I am unhappy with this and everything I said was for your comfort". He did not expect that the reason for her surprise was a bet. A bet. With his brother. His brother who also knew about his crush on Wally.

"How… How did you two find out? I thought I was doing a great job concealing my baby crush."

"Oh, it was so hard! You totally don't look at him with a stupid lovesick grin. And you totally don't laugh at his stupid jokes. You don't hold hands and touch each other all the time. You don't look both at me and him when you make jokes or laugh. Oh no! You do all of that and more!" Marinette exclaimed with a fake surprise.

"...I do?" Dick asked, his voice so small. "And you really don't mind it?"

"I really don't mind. As I said before, I'm secure in our relationship and I know that you love me. Also, I really like Wally. You have a good taste," Dick's smile at her words was brighter than thousands of suns. He picked her up and started spinning her around. Marinette's laugh filled their apartment, and in that moment Dick knew everything was going to be alright.

***

Later, much later, Dick was panicking. Everything sounded so easy when Marinette was with him. "Just go and confess to him,"she said. "I'm sure he feels the same," Marinette said, patient as ever, when Dick was panicking about every possible negative outcome.

"What if he rejects me? What if he wants me to break up with you?" he asked Marinette then. He tugged his hair from the frustration, but Marinette just smiled and took his hands.

"If he rejects you, I will hold you until you feel better. We will eat ice cream and watch cheesy movies. And Wally is a good person, I'm sure he would never ask us to break up." Dick briefly thanked all gods for giving him Marinette before leaning in to kiss her.

"I love you," he murmured into her lips.

But now he was alone in their apartment, because, unlike him, Marinette had a job to do. Dick sighed the tenth time in a row. He didn't have to worry about Marinette's reaction to his confession, because she was the one who had asked him out. "I don't hesitate anymore," she had said with a brilliant smile.

Well, Dick knew one thing for sure: he was a coward and would never confess to Wally without Marinette being there. And he couldn't ask anyone for advice. How does one explain that they are in love with two people at the same time? Should he just google it?

His musings were interrupted by a series of long knocks and a loud voice. Was it Jason screaming. "Hey, Dickhead, asking someone to hangout with you and then not showing up is such a dick move!" Yes, that was Jason. Dick scowled before remembering that he had invited Jason and Tim to spend time together.

He grinned and leaped out of the bedroom. Hanging out with his brothers would be a perfect excuse to not confess to Wally! A great timing on their part.

"Hey, guys..!" he was rudely interrupted by a shirt thrown into his face.

"Get dressed, Dickie bird. I don't want to see proofs of you and Pixie having a healthy sexual life." Dick flushed bright red when he realized that he was naked. He ran back to his bedroom followed by both Tim's and Jason's laugh. God, how embarrassing.

***

Wally was bored. He felt like he could die from boredom. And the day had started so nicely. He woke up early and prepared himself a very tasty cup of tea. Wally finished every small task around his apartment. He started reading several different books but none of them piqued his interest. There was nothing interesting on TV.

Wally sighed again. And again. And again. He felt like an aristocrat, laying on his coach with a wine glass full of water in his hand. The only thing missing was a manor. And nicer clothes. And servants. And wine. Actually, a lot of things were missing.

Jason's invitation to hangout felt like a blessing. Finally, something interesting to do. His heart totally didn't flutter in his chest when he found out that Dick would be there, too. No, sir, no. Dick was his best friend and nothing more. He was also dating Marinette, Wally's another very good friend.

Wally was the first one to arrive at the bar Dick had offered to meet in. It took all of his mental strength to not start bouncing from all the energy.

"Hi, Wally," Wally's smile dimmed a little when he realized it was Jason, not Dick. "I thought Dickie would be here first. You know, considering it was his idea."

Wally nodded at Jason's words. He thought he would have at least several minutes alone with Dick, who seemed to avoid him lately. And if he did pay attention to Wally, Marinette would always be there. It wasn't a bad thing per se, because Marinette was amazing, but Wally wanted some alone time with his best bro.

"I wonder why," Wally mussed at loud. Jason smiled in agreement and started talking about neutral themes. Wally could do that. After a day of pure boredom everything was interesting.

Twenty minutes later Tim was there, but Dick was nowhere in sight. Wally frowned. Did something happen? Dick would never miss family hangouts.

"You are late, Replacement," Jason chided Tim, conveniently forgetting he himself came later. Wally laughed at the sheer hypocrisy, but it was a very Jason move.

"Well, Dick is not here, so I don't think it counts," Tim shrugged. He was holding a half-empty cup of coffee (what else could it be?) and clearly needed more sleep. Wally internally shook his head. Sleeping as little as Tim was surely wasn't good for his health. Where were Dick and Bruce looking?

"Where is Dick anyway?" Jason asked, letting out an annoyed huff. "Did he do that so Timmy and I could hang out together? Not a very smart move, because I can just leave now and he will never know."

"He could have just forgotten about it," Wally suggested. He was met with two doubtful gazes. "Yeah, it's very unlikely. Something has happened and he can't leave?"

"Why didn't he say anything then?" Jason asked. He was leaning down on the wall of the bar with a small frown. "We should call him or Marinette."

"Marinette is working so she can't know where he is. We should call Dick directly," Tim said, already holding his phone. He was the one who dialed Dick, but Dick didn't answer not after the first call, nor the second, nor the third. Wally was worried. Dick always answered when someone called. Something must have happened.

"I was right. We should go and check on him. Should we walk or should I run to his apartment?" Wally asked, worry laced in his voice.

"Let's ride. I parked my car nearby," Tim said and turned around, walking to his car. Wally looked at Jason who just shrugged and went after Tim. Well, it seemed like he didn't have a choice then.

The ride to Dick's apartment felt longer than it should have. Wally was burning from all the anxious energy. What if something has happened to Dick? What if they were too late? What if Dick just didn't want to see them? Wally didn't know what would hurt more.

The apartment's doors were locked, which was a good sign. It meant that nobody had broken inside. It also meant that they couldn't enter. Fortunately, Tim had his own key so it wasn't a problem. ("Marinette gave it to me," Tim answered Wally's silent question. "She wanted me to know that I'm always welcome here". "Oh, Pixie didn't give me my own key! Does she not want to see my handsome face?" Jason asked more dramatically than needed. Wally totally wasn't disappointed that he didn't have his own key. It didn't mean that Dick didn't trust him, right?)

The apartment was clean, no visible signs of someone breaking in. Wally looked around, trying to find some clues that would help to understand the situation. Jason yelled something, but Wally didn't pay enough attention to understand him.

Wally turned around at the sound of Dick's voice only to look away immediately. He did not expect to see Dick naked. Wally blushed, thinking about the man's muscles and biceps, small scars on his chest and arms, scratches, and hickeys… Wally paled immediately. Oh, yes, hickeys, because Dick Grayson, his best friend, was dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Wally couldn't let himself forget.

It was easier to think after Dick had left. Now, Wally didn't have to use all of his mental strength to not ogle his best friend. Wally wondered why he had reacted this way. It's not like he had never seen Dick naked before. "You saw him when you were changing. You were both naked then. But here, it's much more intimate," his traitorous mind whispered.

"I'm not waiting for the golden boy to get dressed. I'm going to the kitchen. Pixie always has something sweet there," Jason said and walked out of the living room. Wally looked at Tim who just shrugged and followed his brother. Well, it seemed like he had no choice but to go to the kitchen.

The room was full of light and delicious smells. The table was littered with numerous vials, pastry, herbs, and other things Wally couldn't identify. He breathed out, feeling more relaxed than ever, despite his complicated feelings. Marinette's presence and influence were obvious there, and she always had the way to make people feel better. She was just magic that way.

"Wally! I didn't know you were here," Dick's excited voice interrupted his thoughts. Wally didn't even hear him coming in. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. "I'm really sorry about forgetting our hangout. I'm deeply ashamed."

"You wish I said "it's okay, I forgive you". But I won't! I will always tease you about it, so get ready!" said Jason, while rummaging through a freezer. "Where is milk, Dickhead? I wanted to make a cup of tea for myself, but I can't find anything here."

"Oh, we ran out of milk," Dick replied easily before a panicked expression settled on his face. "Wait… If we ran out of milk, then what did I add to my coffee this morning?"

"Welp, I hope it wasn't one of Marinette's potions," Wally offered sympathetically, but one look at Dick's panicked expression hinted that it was most likely what had happened. And wasn't that funny? Judging by Jason's laugh, he also thought it was hilarious.

"We can call her and ask about the effects of that particular potion?" Tim offered, trying to be serious but burst out laughing. Dick did not appreciate the lack of concern from his brothers. What if the potion hurt him and the effects could never be reversed? "It's very funny, but we really should call Marinette. We don't know how it can affect Dick. It could be really harmful," Tim said after calming down. Even Jason stopped laughing.

They did call Marinette. It must have been the smartest decision in several hours. But she didn't answer. Calling her five more times didn't help. They just were directed to voicemail. Marinette's cheery voice telling them "Hi! You've reached Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm very sorry, but I'm busy and can't answer you right now. You can leave me a message and I will call you later! Bye!" didn't help.

"And what should we do?" Wally asked, interrupting the awkward silence. Well, it wasn't awkward per se, but Jason desperately trying and failing to suppress his laugh did make Dick feel uncomfortable.

"You can try and recall everything that happened. This way we can know how exactly the potion affected you," Tim offered with a small shrug. "Start from the morning and up until this moment."

"I was really tired after patrol last night, so I tried complaining to Marinette, but she was too busy so she ignored me. I decided to make a cup of coffee. I actually felt better after it, but I had this strange need to go and hug Marinette, tell her how much I love her." Wally totally didn't feel a pang in his chest. He wasn't jealous. He didn't want Dick to confess to him, because they were best friends and nothing more.

"What happened next? Or are you hiding something?" Seemingly innocent questions (especially, considering it was Jason who asked) flustered Dick so much he was completely red. He's so handsome…no, bad, Wally, stop. "Oh, you are hiding something."

"Marinette and I cuddled, while watching movies," Dick answered, still as red as a tomato. "And then we had sex!"

Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't… Oh, he was so jealous

This time silence was certainly awkward. Very awkward. Dick was burning from embarrassment. Wally was trying to convince himself he wasn't jealous. Tim was thinking about anything other than his brother's love life.

And only Jason was amused. The day was working out great for him. He won 10 dollars. Yes, it wasn't much, but the satisfaction of winning the bet with Marinette was worse so much more. It would be even better if Dick blurted out that he has a crush on Wally with him nearby. But it seemed that his dearest older brother would rather embarrass himself than confess.

"Is it everything? Because I think you have left out something," but Dick just glared at him. Well, time for big guns. "Were you and Pixie talking about something? Something very important? Something that will have a big influence on your relationship?" he then feigned a scandalised gasp. "Did you confess that you have cheated on her?! Did you cheat on Marinette?!"

Dick's glare was the funniest thing in the world, and Jason's snickers just made him angrier. "Nothing like! I just told her that I have a crush on Wally!" His satisfied expression slowly morphed into one of shock. "I meant to say that I had told her about my crush on Wally! No, not that! About patrol! Yes, patrol!"

"Your crush on me?" Wally asked, his voice small and soft. He clearly was shocked by Dick's confession. He looked even more surprised than Dick was. "Are you serious?"

Tim felt like he was in a tv drama. Secret crushes? Check? Oblivious main characters? Check? Mean brother Jason? Check. The drama of the reveal? Check. Friends to lovers? Check? Another love interest? Check. The only difference was Marinette. That woman certainly wasn't the "evil and annoying wife". He briefly wondered how she had reacted, but judging that Dick was still alive she was very nice.

"How unpredictable, how surprising," Jason stage whispered, leaning down to Tim. This time both Wally and Dick glared, which was somehow even more amusing. Even Tim was cackling.

"Get out of here. I… Wally and I have to talk about my stupid slip. Go!" Dick shouted, basically throwing them out of the kitchen. Tim and Jason exchanged a knowing look and burst out laughing. Knowing that it pissed Dick off made them laugh even harder.

Dick didn't know what to say or how to react. He wanted to wait for Marinette to confess to Wally. She would know what to say and how to explain his feelings better than he could ever do. Her presence would give him strength and courage. He didn't want to blurt it out. Again. He was an idiot and Wally would never like him back.

"So, you like me?" Wally asked with a nervous chuckle. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. Wally could not believe it was real and he wasn't dreaming.

"I..yes. Yes, I do," Dick stated, more confident than before. "You are smart, amazing, and incredible. You have a beautiful smile that lights up every room. Your plans are brilliant, but you don't always see it. You are very important to me so yes, I like you."

Wally felt like his head was spinning from Dick's compliments and the sincerety in his eyes. Blush rised to his cheeks. He was at loss of words. How should he react?! Compliment him back?

"I… I really like you, too," Wally finally answered, his throat dry from nerves. Dick broke in a brilliant, brighter than the sun grin. "How did Marinette react to that?"

"Do you want her exact words or just generally?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Generally."

"Well, she said that polyamory exists and that me loving you doesn't mean I love her any less," Dick answered with the same gentle smile he always had when talking about Marinette. But this time Wally didn't feel envious or jealous. Dick suddenly looked more nervous than before. "Would you date me? You don't have to date Marinette, but I don't want to break up with her, you know?"

Wally didn't know. He has heard about polyamory and open relationships before, of course. He didn't know what to do or how to act. Would he and Marinette have to share Dick? Would they have a schedule, so they could spend time with Dick? Would they have to be together all the time? But Wally did know that honesty was important in every type of relationship so he took a deep breath and explained everything to Dick.

"Well, neither I nor Marinette have the experience of dating two people at once, so we will have to figure it out. Trials and errors, you know?" Dick offered with a small 0shrug. He looked away, suddenly more nervous than before. His main concern was confessing to Wally, he didn't think how the whole thing would work. "We can try anyway."

"We can try, yeah," Wally repeated with a small smile.

"Now kiss!" Jason groaned from annoyance and lack of patience. Dick felt blush from embarrassment (the amount of times he blushed today was concerning). Jason was not affected by his glare at all. "Well, I'm waiting. Marinette wanted to see your first kiss and I promised her to take a picture," he said gesturing to his phone.

"We won't kiss on camera. We can wait for Marinette," he growled before realising that he hadn't asked Wally how he would feel. Dick could hope the sudden realisation wasn't obvious, but judging by Jason's and Tim's expressions they both have noticed. Nothing to lose then. "Would you mind kissing me with Marinette there? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Wally was silent for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "We can try, I guess," he said before realising one very crucial detail Dick had missed. "When did you two return? Because I remember Dick throwing you out of here."

"When Dick confessed to you? I'm not sure," Tim said with the same tone one would discuss weather, not their brother's love life. Jason nodded in agreement. "Now, we can leave you two alone. Right, Jason?"

"Eh, we all have to make sacrifices for the happiness of our elder brothers," Jason said with a dramatic gasp, but nothing new, nothing new. "Let's go, Timmy, let's go. We are not welcome here." Wally could swear he had heard Tim mutter "it's not like I am the one who suggested to leave" under his breath.

"So, are we waiting for Marinette?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. God, having Dick's undivided attention and being completely alone with him was a nerve-wracking experience. Wally locked his eyes on Dick's lips. They looked even better than usual. Was it because he could kiss him now? Must be. "No, I wanted to kiss you for too long to wait even a second more," Dick murmured before leaning towards Wally.

Kissing Dick blew up his mind. It wasn't something Wally hoped would ever happen but desperately wanted to. Dick's lips were a little bit chapped, just enough to notice but not enough to make their kiss uncomfortable. Wally didn't want to lean away even for a second to take a breath. If it was his last kiss with Dick (and it certainly wasn't), he would enjoy for as long as he could.

"It was just like I imagined it," Wally blurted out when they stopped kissing. He felt breathless and higher than ever.

"So you imagined kissing me?" Dick asked with a smug smile. "Well, I am me and I'm awesome."

"Where was the confidence when you were panicking about confessing to Wally?" Dick and Wally immediately wiped their head towards the voice. There was standing Marinette with a teasing smile and a Polaroid in her hands. "Don't worry! I wasn't standing here creepily and watching you two make out! I just took a photo and left immediately. Didn't want to intrude," she explained upon noticing Dick's and Wally's reaction.

"Why did you take a photo?" asked Dick.

"For my scrapbook, my heart. I have a photo of our first kiss, our first date, from the day we moved in, and when we finally organized everything. And I wanted to have photos of every important milestone in your relationship, too," Marinette explained, while moving gracefully around the kitchen. Her chaotic moves seemed to have a complicated system Dick couldn't understand.

Wally… didn't know what to say. Sure, he knew that Marinette wasn't against their relationship, but he didn't expect her to be so supportive and kind. He felt warmth bloom in his chest. He wasn't in love with Marinette, but right at that moment, in hers and Dick's cluttered kitchen, he felt like falling for her was the easiest thing ever.

But they still had some questions for Marinette to answer.

"Marinette, you love me, right?" Dick waited for Marinette to nod in agreement before continuing talking. "I may or may not have drunk one of your potions! But it was an accident!"

Marinette sighed tiredly. Then she sighed again. And again. And again. Wally stopped counting after five consecutive sighs. She pinched the bridge of her nose before talking again. "It's okay. I shouldn't leave my potions in the kitchen if I don't want anyone to accidentally drink them. I'm not mad, not disappointed. Accidents happen and it's not your fault. I just need you to tell me from what vial you took it and how it affected you, okay?"

It didn't take long for Marinette fo realise what potion Dick had taken. And when she did, she burst out laughing. Unfortunately, Dick and Wally didn't share her knowledge of magic, so they couldn't appreciate the irony of the situation without her help.

"I've been trying to make a way to free kwami. Tbe potion you've drunk? It's a result of my experiments. It didn't free kwami but it freed you," Marinette explained before laughing again. And this time Dick and Wally did join her.

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Six

Link to Masterpost

I am... running low on prompts for this! I have one really good one I think I’m going to explore for part seven, and then a few more that go really well together a ways further into what I think the story here is going to be, but almost nothing to tie them together. I COULD just write out that story, but I have so loved responding to your prompts and they really have driven this story to what it is. Feel free to send more my way!

This chapter uses two prompts:

“You’re on level 176.” / “Can you judge me harder?”

and

“You’ve been replaced.” / “All right, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.”

Enjoy!

~*~*~

“You’re on… wow, level 176. How have you not gone insane yet?”

Aelin didn’t even turn to look at the speaker, too focused on the puzzle game she was playing on her phone. “Wow, Rowan, can you judge me harder? You know I’m so very into you judging me for the things I do to stay sane when I can’t even walk.”

“Damn, Aelin, you talk that way to every guy who walks through your door?” the voice laughed.

Finally setting her phone aside, she turned and shouted happily when she saw Sam standing there instead. “Gods, I’m sorry, I lost track of the time,” she said as she rushed—or hobbled, she supposed—to hug him.

“And you’ve gotten worse at telling voices apart,” he laughed. “I guess I should be flattered, though, if you really thought I sounded like Tall, Brooding, and Handsome.”

“You’re not even into men,” she protested.

“If anyone could persuade me, it’d be him. But that’s beside the point. You seriously forgot we moved Girls and Sam day over here so you wouldn’t have to get a ride?”

Aelin grimaced. “Uh, it’s been a long week?”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Nice try. Some of us actually had to work this week.”

“Wow, rude.” Even as she was saying it Aelin tugged him to the couch. “You’re going to have to make that up to me, you know.”

“I know,” he grinned, holding up a small paper bag.

Aelin’s eyes widened and she snatched it from his grasp, tearing it open to reveal several bars of chocolate. “Gods, I love you.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat sounded behind them, and Aelin whirled around to find Rowan coming back from his afternoon run. “You do realize there are more rooms in this house than the living room for that, right? You’ve got options that won’t traumatize your roommate.”

Aelin blinked, and then began to laugh, clutching at the cushions of the couch to keep herself relatively upright. “Oh gods, you thought… you thought we…” She couldn’t even get all of the words out.

Sam decided to take pity on her, grinning over at Rowan. “That’s ancient history. Like, sophomore year of college ancient. We’re better off as friends.”

“Best friends,” Aelin added as she began to recover, holding up the chocolates as some sort of proof of their friendship. “You’ve been replaced, Rowan. You’ll just have to live with it.”

Rowan only shrugged. “All right,” he replied. “We’ll see how you feel about that when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.” Before she could say anything he was walking up the stairs and out of earshot.

When she turned to face Sam again, he was staring at her. “He’s been in your shower?”

“What? No, not like that,” she stammered. “The spider thing was one time.”

“I’m just saying, you never let me in your shower. You like him.”

The door opened again, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief as Lysandra saved her from having to answer. “Are we feeling wine or whiskey?” she asked. “I brought both.”

Aelin frowned. “I’m feeling like if I say yes to either a hovering overprotective buzzard will come down the stairs and tell me it interacts with my pain medication,” she called pointedly in the direction of the stairs.

Her phone buzzed with a text alert almost immediately, and she read it with a laugh. “See?” she asked, holding the phone so they could read the screen:

Said overprotective buzzard would be absolutely correct and doing you a favor.

“Wow, who texts like that?” Lysandra asked.

“He does, apparently. And he can come say it to my face if he has something to say to me!”

Sam laughed beside her. “You tell him, Aelin.”

But the man upstairs remained remarkably silent in response, and her phone didn’t alert her to any further messages, so instead Aelin hobbled over to the kitchen and brought what was left of her brownies out of their hiding place.

“Wow,” Lysandra said when she saw them. “You actually bothered to cut them?”

“It’s not like I had anything better to do,” she replied. It was true enough; she certainly hadn’t been doing much, mostly because Rowan would glare at her until she was resting again if he felt she was overexerting herself. Feeling a flare of irritation at the memory, she promptly snagged one of the squares for herself and bit into it with a happy little sigh.

“All right, so when are we going to talk about the fact that you let your hot roommate into your shower?” Sam pressed.

“Wait, you what?” Lysandra leaned in, eager for details.

Aelin whined, head dropping into her hands. “For the last time, it’s not like that,” she protested. Still, though, she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d helped her into the bath the other day, how his words had been so rough but his hands so gentle on her as he’d…

Aelin yanked her mind away from that line of thinking, hoping she wasn’t blushing but strongly suspecting she was based on the heat she could feel in her cheeks. “You’re assholes and I hate you both,” she grumbled as they both started laughing.

“Oh, Aelin, we love you too,” Lysandra grinned.

“Besides, I couldn’t think of him that way anyway. Do you want to know why I really cut the brownies? He cut one out of the middle of the pan. And I know he doesn’t eat sweets, so I don’t think he even ate it. He’s a monster.” Aelin took the opportunity while she was venting to remind herself of all the reasons such thoughts were a terrible idea. Perhaps this time it would work.

At the very least, it was enough to convince her friends to drop the subject, and she would take what she could get in that regard.

~*~*~

Rowan didn’t emerge from his room until the others had left, and even then he was even quieter than usual as he took his now-customary seat in the armchair. That in itself was odd, but when she glanced over at him she found him looking back at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” she quipped, knowing the best way to get him to speak would be to try to get a rise out of him.

Sure enough, it worked. “You say that as though the very image of you isn’t seared into my retinas at this point.”

“I can’t tell if that’s rude or flattering.”

“Good.”

Aelin snorted. “Gods, are you one of those people who likes to think they’re all deep and mysterious?”

Rowan laughed in reply. “I am neither deep nor mysterious, trust me. You just haven’t asked.”

“All right,” she said. “Why are you staring at me then?”

“I wouldn’t call it staring, but I was just wondering if I’ll have to deal with any more exes you’re weirdly friendly with dropping by unexpectedly.”

“Oh.” This time, Aelin knew she was blushing. “No, Sam’s… Sam’s different. And we weren’t always friendly.”

“No?”

“Gods, no. We dated years ago, like he said. He was… a different person, then. He was going through a lot, and he didn’t really know how to handle it. We were over well before he broke up with me, I think.” Aelin smiled softly as she reminisced. “After that, I think it was… three years later? We were both working by then, and we happened to get hired by the same company. He tracked me down and told me everything. We both left Rifthold together eventually, and Lysandra came with us.”

Rowan shifted in his seat to look at her properly. “I didn’t know you weren’t always in Orynth. Aedion mentioned you were from here, but not that you’d had to move back home.”

Aelin’s smile turned sad. “You never asked.” After a moment, she realized that her words sounded too close to an accusation and rushed to continue. “I mean, I never asked anything about you either. I’m not trying to blame you or anything.”

“I’m certain I would deserve it if you did,” he replied.

“Hey, that’s enough being weirdly deep for one day.” Aelin paused for a moment, thinking about her next move. “What if I asked you one question about yourself, to make us even? Then we can go back to me watching my movie and you making fun of me like we usually do.”

Rowan shrugged, but looked somewhat wary. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve told me what you actually do for a living, or Aedion has, but I can never remember. So what is it?”

Her question was met with laughter, but his green eyes shone with relief. “That’s seriously what you want to know?”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Fine. I’m an editor. This whole time, and every time you’ve seen me working out here, I’ve been reading someone else’s book—or what will become their book, anyway—and tearing it apart so we can make it better.”

Aelin grinned. “Are you one of those mean editors? Like everyone’s least favorite high school English teacher, who makes everything bleed with red pen?”

“Spelling and grammar are usually taken care of for the most part before it gets to me. I just make notes in the margins about what parts of the story work and what parts don’t.”

“Mean notes?”

“Sometimes.”

Aelin finally smiled. “You know, I don’t know what I thought you did do, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

“I live to surprise,” he replied in the driest tone she’d heard from him all afternoon.

“Fine, then surprise me by not making fun of my movie tonight.”

She was met with only silence, Rowan clearly not finding her challenge worthy of a response. But he didn’t make even one sarcastic comment as the movie began, so she took it as a win regardless.

About halfway through, she glanced over at him to find his eyes once more on her. This time, however, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she only smiled.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou

[yelena-bellova]

Winter Song

Plot: Y/n finds that her favorite time of year is much less enjoyable without Steve.

Warnings: Christmas angst, fluff, but mostly angst

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I got this idea a few weeks ago and couldn’t wait to post it. It’s based on Leslie Odom Jr. and Cynthia Erivo’s version of the song, I highly recommend listening to it ❄️ I definitely didn’t proofread this enough and I’m posting it at almost midnight so it’s probably riddled with mistakes 🙈

*Flashbacks are in italics

————

This is my winter song to you

The storm is coming soon

It rolls in from the sea

It was well known among the compound that Christmas was my absolute favorite time of year.

There was no competition in the state of New York, nay, the entirety of the East Coast that rivaled my love of the season. On November 1st I would have the pumpkins and fake cobwebs boxed back up and be stringing lights and hanging wreaths before anyone else in the compound was awake. They’d tease me about it but by the time December actually rolled around, you could hear the toughest of heroes humming ‘Sleigh Ride’ to themselves. Still, no one could measure up to my enthusiasm for Christmas…

Except Steve.

He’d be the one handing me decorations as I stood on a ladder positioning them perfectly. He’d watch every movie and special with me tucked into his side. We’d bake batch after batch of cookies because while they had no problem teasing us, Rhodey and Sam would come through like a tornado and eat all of them. And gift shopping was a day long event that tested the how the super soldier’s strength held up when carrying 10+ bags and boxes.

All of it occurred before the Accords, of course. The storm that rolled in, placed an unmovable divide between Steve and I and left me at the compound and him as far from beside me as could be.

I was halfheartedly stringing lights around the living room, unable to think of anything but Steve. It was snowing heavily outside, the kind of weather that practically demanded all plans to be cancelled for hot chocolate and warm blankets. It was those types of memories that hurt the worst…

————

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

Is love

“It’s a Wonderful Life, hands down the best Christmas movie of all time.”

“But it’s so sad,” I argued, “And the last thing you’re supposed to be during the season is sad.”

Steve looked over at me from his slumped position on the couch of the common room. I’d pulled out my fluffiest flannel blanket and even though the man was his own furnace, he loved me too much to object when I’d laid it over us. I was sitting up gesturing towards the tv as I tried to convince him that whiles his favorite movie was cute, it was too depressing for Christmas.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Steve relented a little, “But what about that ending? You can’t argue that it’s not heartwarming.”

I rolled my eyes, “Okay, I’ll give you that one but I don’t like how we get there. I don’t even like thinking about my life without any of you guys in it.”

Steve cleared his throat and I twisted to see his blonde eyebrows raised.

“Especially my number one elf,” I smiled as I sat back against the couch and shifted closer to him, “You’re the only person who doesn’t think I’m insane this time of year.”

“I’d never let you do Christmas by yourself,” he said, reaching under the blanket to take my hand in his.

It was moments like these that I questioned Steve and I. It was just enough of a picture perfect domestic moment that if anyone stumbled upon us, they’d raise eyebrows and ask if they were intruding. With his affectionate gaze focused on me, our shoulders rubbing together and the unexplainable feeling that behind our time spent together there was…something. If I was being completely honest with myself, I wanted there to be something.

Unfortunately, I could summon enough courage to battle aliens and assassins but not to confess my feelings. “Um, what’s next on the list?” I asked, awkwardly fidgeting with my free hand, “I need to finish making my gift list for when we go shopping if you want to help.”

“Yeah, but can we just…”

“Just what?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

Steve scratched the back of his neck before turning back to me, “Can we just sit here for a minute longer? It’s nice.”

My face probably gave away my enthusiasm for the suggestion, but I still tried to conceal it with a close lipped smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Without needing any further agreement, Steve moved an arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to him. While my mind had drawn a blank, my body knew what to do and nestled itself into his side. I laid my head against his chest and wrapped an arm around his torso, giving me the perfect view of the snowstorm outside. Steve rested his chin on the top of my head and continuously ran his hand up and down my back. The moment was perfect and if I’d had the power to stop time, I’d have been happy to stay in Steve’s arms forever.

Yeah, there was definitely something.

————

They say we're buried far

Just like a distant star

I simply cannot hold

I knew it was a huge mistake to enter Steve’s room, but that still didn’t stop me from twisting the doorknob.

It was exactly as he’d left it five months ago when he left for London to attend Peggy’s funeral. All that had been added was a thin layer of dust across every surface. I dragged myself over to his bed and carefully sat down on the edge of it. The part of me that was still in denial about the entire situation didn’t want to mess up the sheets in case he made a sudden return. I reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the picture frame that had sat on it ever since last Christmas. I had jokingly bought Steve and I matching sweaters with hideous festive designs. The entire team howled with laughter as he opened the gift up on Christmas morning. God bless the man and his inability to deny me anything during the holiday season…He’d put it on without so much as an eye roll and Tony had practically tripped over himself trying to get photographic proof of it.

“You are such a simp, Rogers, and I could not be more thankful for it,” Tony grinned, holding up his phone towards us, “Say hello to next year’s Avengers Christmas card.”

Steve locked his arms around my waist and with no warning, lifted me up in the air. I squealed and rushed to hold on to him, the both of us laughing as Tony won his latest way to blackmail us.

The joy that the photo captured seemed like it had occurred years ago. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that happy or carefree but it had probably involved Steve.

“It’s just not the same without you,” I whispered as I stroked a finger through the dust that covered his face.


This is my winter song

December never felt so wrong

Cause you’re not where you belong

Inside my arms

I wrapped my sweater around my body as I made me way back out to the common room. I didn’t expect to find Tony rifling through one of the many decoration boxes I had set out. While I’d been moping in Steve’s room, he’d taken the initiative in decorating.

“Stark Industries branching out into the holiday business?” I asked with as much of a laugh as I could muster, which wasn’t much.

He was nailing a wreath to the wall when I walked in, “It’s called extreme boredom and this is what it looks like.”

I smiled softly as he turned around to face me, trying to appreciate his efforts. If I was missing Steve, Tony was most certainly missing Pepper. He was trying to keep busy in an effort to not dwell on her obvious absence. “You’re lucky I’m not standing next to you right now.”

“Huh?”

Tony smirked and gestured with his hammer to the space above me. I looked up to see the familiar plastic piece of mistletoe I’d hoped we’d lost dangling on a string. My stomach clenched at the memories the item and the particular archway brought back.

————

“You got that video of Tony tonight right?” Steve asked as he stuffed another wad of wrapping paper into a trash bag,

“Oh yeah,” I laughed, “Drunkenly singing ‘Last Christmas’ to Rhodey wearing a Macy’s box on his head definitely tops our sweaters.”

It was late on Christmas Day, everyone had gone to bed except for Steve and I. We were finishing cleaning and wrapping up leftovers from dinner. It also gave us much needed quiet after such a loud evening.

“I think that’s the last of everything,” I said, admiring the clean kitchen.

“Same here,” he replied as he set the last trash bag off to the side of the room, “You look sad.”

I shrugged and crossed my arms, “I’m always sad when Christmas is over. It makes everyday life seem so mundane.”

“Only you would think that the life of an Avenger is mundane,” Steve chuckled from the archway he was standing under.

“Please, no bows or lights or festiveness of any kind?” I teased as I crossed the room to stand next to him, “Boring.”

We shared a laugh and leaned against our separate walls, savoring the last few moments before the day changed to the 26th.

“Thank you for helping me do all this,” I said, gesturing around us, “I couldn’t have pulled it off without you.”

“Like I said, I’d never let you do Christmas by yourself,” Steve smiled before his eyes drifted up, “Oh…”

I tilted my head to see whatever had caught his eye and caused his cheeks to turn so red. “Oh…”

The mistletoe I’d hung as a joke, hanging above and taunting us. Tony had camped under it several times and refused to budge until Pepper would oblige. Wanda and Vision had found themselves under it and she’d nervously pecked his cheek. It was all in good fun until this moment where I was cursing myself for ever hanging it.

“We don’t…I mean, we didn’t realize that it was…” I verbally stumbled, “It’s not like we knew it was there.”

“Right,” Steve nodded, “We didn’t know. But…isn’t it kind of a rule that we…have to?”

My mouth stupidly opened and closed, “I-I think so. And what kind of people would we be if we broke a Christmas rule?”

“Exactly,” Steve agreed, “So it’s not a big deal.”

“Not at all.”

“Good,” he said quietly before pushing off the wall and taking a step to the middle of the archway. I came to meet him and dropped my arms at their sides, his hands carefully reached for mine till they’d taken hold of them. The awkwardness was quickly melting away and being replaced by an urgency to make the inevitable happen. Steve’s fingers traced over the pulse points of my wrists and his lips curled up as he felt the goosebumps break out across my skin. We both leaned in at the same time, not giving the other a chance to back out because we both knew how badly we wanted to get on with it. Our lips met and all the hesitation and second guessing we’d done in the seconds before vanished. Every time I’d questioned whether or not my feelings were true suddenly turned to a resounding ‘YES’ for an answer. Our mouths moved together as if it was a dance we’d done a thousand times. As much as I wanted to pull him closer, my body was paralyzed by the shock and the only thing I felt able to do was lace my fingers with Steve’s.

It ended all too soon, the both of us pulling away in need of oxygen. Steve pressed his forehead to mine and sighed, he squeezed my hands and brushed his nose against mine.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” I whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n,” he replied softly.

————

“Take it down,” I strained, trying to keep the sobs from escaping my lips.

“Huh?”

“Take it down, Tony. All of it.”


“Y/n, what are you talking about? You love all this crap,” Tony gestured to the room.

The tears were getting harder to try and hide, so I didn’t bother. “Not anymore. If you want to hire someone to decorate, fine, but I can’t look at any of our stuff,” I snapped before dropping my tone to a whine, “Just take it down.”

I fled before he could ask any more questions that I couldn’t bear to answer. I retreated to my room, quickly locking the door and allowing my cries to be released. I curled into myself with my back against the door and let myself fall apart, knowing that the one person who could piece me back together was unreachable.

————

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

Despite my ignoring the calendar and anything that had to do with the season, Christmas Day had arrived. Tony had indeed paid a team to decorate the compound, it was too minimalistic for my taste but I was the whole reason for it so I couldn’t complain.

Tony, Rhodey, Vision and I plus Peter and his Aunt May were seated at the dining room table attempting to make cheerful conversation. Peter was telling us about some recent adventure he’d had patrolling his neighborhood. I tried to pay attention but all I really cared about was how quickly I could escape to my room and put an end to the day. At some point in the evening I feigned a headache, halfheartedly wished the group a merry Christmas and trudged down the halls to my safe haven. I was pulling out a set of pajamas to change into when a muffled ringtone emerged from one of my dresser drawers. While I hadn’t heard it play ever, I knew exactly what it belonged to. I flung the drawer open and dug the phone out from under my clothes. However impossible, there was only one person who could be on the other end of the call.

With shaking hands, I flipped the top of the device up and raised it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

My lips quirked upwards in a watery smile as the voice I’d longed to hear for months washed over me. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”