#i know most of the men on tour are if not friends then friendly with zverev

[jabeur]

i need to say something just to get it off my chest

[shiggyscumrag]

To fuck or not to fuck?

Synopsis- After joining the x men you train with them one on one till you are inevitably forced to train with Logan. During a rough training session a heated argument arises and there’s only one way to break the tension.

Warnings- open wound mentioned, blood mentioned, cussing, penetrative sex (pnv), cum play if you squint, light slapping, oral (male and female receiving), choking, gagging, a bit of crying, over stimulation, nicknames babe and princess used frequently, no pronouns are used for (y/n), I’m sorry if I missed any!

AN- look I’ll be honest I just wanted to write a situation where you hate fuck Logan 🙌🏻 also this is probably not gonna be lore accurate but does it really matter when it’s smut with no plot? NO!! so enjoy fuckers ;) I did channel Deadpool energy for this character bc why not? Also the characters power involves using their voice to manipulate the people around them into doing what they want. ily pookies 💋

Look you didn’t want to be a stupid X Men. You made it very clear since day one you just wanted to continue living your “civilian” life and to keep blending in. Of course it didn’t work out that way. Professor X was the one who pulled you out of this almost normal day to day life and threw you into his rich ass mansion full of freaks. Ok you’re a freak too but you’re not trained like them. You should be out working your five to nine barely making ends meet in your shitty one bedroom apartment, but no. Now, you’re tasked to help “save the world” from worse mutants than you.

Reluctantly, you decide since you have no choice being here, why not make something interesting out of this new arrangement? After the tour of your fancy new “home” (really a school/headquarters), it’s time to meet your new coworkers. Friends? Eh too soon.

It was a little intimidating with them all lined up staring you down when you walked into the final room of Xavier’s tour. Storm standing to your far left, Cyclops beside her, Rogue, Beast and finally the Wolverine. One by one they gave a greeting, some more friendly than others. Until Logan (you later learned) just muttered a “whatever” and left. Pushing past you while staring you down. Jesus, what’s up with that guy?

You decided it wasn’t worth it to fight on your first day so you let it go. Then weeks passed, with week after week going slowly from one mutant to another teaching you new techniques. When eventually the mutant you dreaded training with the most was up. The one and only Wolverine, Mister Logan Howlett. Bit of an ironic name you couldn’t help but chuckle at when Xavier introduced him officially. Since Logan was avoiding you at all cost the whole time you’ve been here you weren’t exactly familiar with his anger issues.

“What’s so funny bub?” You could see his claws starting to peak from his knuckles and didn’t stop another chuckle.

“Knives for hands here doesn’t even know me and he wants to shred me already. You sure I’m safe here?” You say as sarcastically as you can, really emphasizing the safe part. Xavier gave a curt nod and turned to Logan.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Leaving the room right after, you and Logan were dumbfounded. You finally let out the cackle you were holding back hunching over when the door finally closed.

“Ha!! You got in trouble!!” You stood up straight clapping your hands together “You should really start playing nice.”

“You’re real fucking immature, you know that?” He said his claws slowly peaking out more after each comment you make. You start to smirk.

“Yeah? Well I am 100 years younger than you sweet heart, so who’s really the immature one?” You could be less cruel and not want to irk him on, but that wouldn’t be interesting. Plus we’re here to train. so might as well get it started.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan stops holding back and releases claws in one swift motion.

“What happened to this being a safe space?” Before you could continue being a smart ass he lunges at you.

Dodging you stop talking and actually try to use the training you’ve gotten to kick this guys ass. I mean what’s his fucking problem? You haven’t said a fucking word to him and he thinks he can just treat you this way with no consequences? Well fine douchbag you can get exactly what you want.

“You’re really fast! I can’t believe you’re like a thousand years old!” You say giggling as you move right in time to avoid a punch to the nose. “Now that would’ve hurt!” You spin around him kicking him straight in the back knocking him down. A quick groan and he’s back up in a flash.

Dodging and weaving his swift lunges and jabs, with a yelp you fall to the floor after he kicks your feet from under you. After being quickly tackled and claws threatening to break the skin right above one of your major artery’s you let out a small whimper.

“Are you finally going to shut the fuck up?” Logan growled a top of you teeth beared chest heaving and forehead sweaty. That was kind of fucking hot actually.

“Let’s just stop and talk this out, yeah?” You say holding your hands up next to your head giving him a big toothy smile.

Logan was more than a bit confused when his body started to move and his claws retracted. In his mind he’s screaming at his body for stopping. Pissed off at the fact he’s isn’t in control. Standing you dust yourself off and start again before he could get his control back.

“Now before you try to attack me again, let’s just take a breath and calm down. You’re fine by the way. I just have control over your body temporarily.” Anger flashes across his face and it hits you that it probably wasn’t the best idea to start with that.

“Since you’ve been a major fuck face these past few weeks you know shit about me. So let me have the pleasure of introducing myself again. My names (y/n) and I can control people with my mouth.” You smile pointing to your lips. He just stares back with slight confusion and disgust. “I tell them an action and they do it. I could hypothetically kill you at anytime too, so let’s be chill.” You say winking at him.

“Well it’s good thing I can’t die.” He says smirking back at you. Funny enough you released him a while ago yet he hasn’t attacked you again.

“You seem to be calm now?” You question. “Is that lesson one?” You poke at him.

“Don’t push it.” He huffs rolling his eyes and walking away. Doors closing behind him you crumble to the ground adrenaline rushing out of you.

A week or so of training later you and Logan still dislike each other as much as the first day you met, but you could feel a tension beneath the hate. A deep seated craving consisting of mostly hate but also a little curiosity. Maybe, even a bit of sexual frustration?

After a particularly long day of training you were quite irritated at Logan. He was being even harsher than he usually is, it was pissing you off. He lunged at you when you weren’t expecting it leaving a deep cut running down the center of your back and you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“What’s your fucking problem today?” Turning to him you stop making him hesitate. “Was I too nice for your liking, Wolvie?” You mock starting to walk towards him, frustration evident on your face.

“It is explanation enough to say that I just don’t like you?” Logan spit as venom coated every word, all while that stupid smirk wore his face. That’s it.

“Down.” Without a second to waste his knees hit the rough floor hard causing a groan to break his smugness. He couldn’t move, only being able to look at you and the anger that filled your eyes. Rage would be a better description. Joining him down on the floor you kneel as you find his chin making him lean closer to your face.

“You don’t have to be cruel Logan.” You pause looking right into his hazel eyes finding that look again. This time there was something different. You couldn’t help but soften slightly as your anger slowly started to fade. Then a sting of pain from sweat seeping into the cut he just gave you reignited the fire. Grabbing his chin harder he winces as you pull him against your forehead, noses practically touching and lips inches apart.

“Don’t let this happen again.” You push his face back hard making him tip over as you release him. Staring him down you finally turn once he stays put and leave.

Half way down the hall you hear the doors burst open with a loud bang and angry footsteps starting to rush after you. Turning you’re suddenly face to face again with Logan. This time your chins being grabbed and pulled towards his face.

“Look I don’t have a problem with you.” He whispers softly while he stares you right in the eye. It’s really hard to stay mad at him when his kitty hair is all disheveled and he’s flushed like a school girl who just got kissed for the first time.

“I didn’t mean to go as hard as I did.” He muttered out. You chuckled.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to be gentle. Unfortunately for you, I haven’t had the pleasure to figure that out.” With a smirk still on your face Logan swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking down the hall. You wince as your fresh wound gets tugged distracting you from the fact that you’re going opposite of the med bay. Once you pass your room you finally noticed this not so fun fact.

“Hey, the med bay is the other way big guy. I kinda need to be stitched up here.” You say as a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I’ll stitch you up myself. I don’t need the professor all up my ass about it.” He doesn’t even look at you, just keeps walking. You hold in the laugh you so desperately want to let out because you don’t want to fuck this up. This is the nicest he has ever been. That’s right, that’s the end of that sentence with no buts! Except his actual ass being right in your view and if you could add you’d love to be all up in it.

Finally making it to his room he gently sits you on his bed. Turning around without saying a word he digs in his desk pulling out a fairly impressive med kit. Not one of those small ones no, no, like an actual emergency med bag. Your jaw dropped a little and he chuckled. Dropping it on the bed beside you he lifts your chin making you look up at him.

“You gotta take your suit off and lay down so I can stitch you up.” He said pointing to the clean plaid sheets. Looking where he pointed you chuckled.

“Well that’s a bit forward.” He rolled his eyes but this time he had a smile? “Wow I finally made you almost laugh!”

“Shut up and lay down already. I’m getting impatient.” Logan said it as harshly as he could but it came out more light than originally intended.

“Fine but turn around. You’re not getting a free show.” You wink as you give your finger a twirl. Sighing and softly shaking his head he turns around. Taking a moment to scan over his juicy toned muscular ass you then move on to actually do what you had him turn around for. Taking your top off you cup your chest and lay down.

“Alright bubble butt, I’m all yours.” Looking over your shoulder you see him turning around with an eyebrow raised until he finally sees you. His silent judgement turned into something darker. He collects himself and walks over to the bag once again shaking his head.

“Don’t stare at my ass, and definitely don’t make comments about it.” He says firmly, but you can tell he’s not being stern.

“Oh come on, it was right in front of my face! Plus, your hips sway slightly when you walk so it looked extra good-“ a loud whine stopped your sentence short when a sharp needle entered your back.

“A warning next time would be delightful!” You say sarcastically jaw clenched.

“I warned you not to talk about my ass.” That’s all he has to say?

“And once again, your ass was in my face! What else am I supposed to talk about? That’s a hypothetical by the way, it will always be about your ass.” At this point the adrenaline makes the pain in your back go numb. Fortunately, feeling his warm hand on your back kneading the needle through your skin has your panties wet. Luckily he’s fast with his needle work because two minutes later he’s done.

“Alright you’re all fixed up now.” He stands from the bed returning the supplies to his bag.

“Really?” You could have sworn that cut was huge. “Well I guess I’ll get dressed then.”

“Did you need me to turn around or are you going to finally act like I’ve seen tits before? That’s a hypothetical of course.” Mocking you with a cheeky smirk and one brow raised he tosses the med bag off the bed and onto the floor. Arms crossed he stares down at you still lying on the bed.

“Is that your way of asking to see my tits? I’d love to test and see if you’re as harsh in bed as you are during training.” Turning around still holding your chest you give your shoulders a slight shrug. “What’s it gonna be Logan? Hate sex or awkward eye contact in the hallway?”

As quick as he is in training, he’s now right in front of you, your jaw gripped by his hand. He leans down getting right in your face. You can feel his warmth radiating from his skin, it made you shiver.

“Don’t get all shy now,” He mocked. “I don’t hate you.” He looks you up and down scanning every inch of your body, unclothed and clothed. “I will fuck you though.”

“I didn’t think that’d actually work but show me what you got baby!” You say hands falling from your chest and pulling his jaw into a kiss. He kisses you back grabbing your side slowly moving to kneel on the bed. Lowering into the bed you’re now lying down. The pressure not the best feeling on your back you let out a quiet hiss.

“What’s the matter? Is it your back?” He asked gently leaning your back off the bed relieving the pain shooting though out you.

“Yeah, usually I wouldn’t mind missionary but I think your love swipe is begging for us to do something kinkier.” You say winking. Before he can say a word you hook your legs around his waist using your momentum to flip him under you on to the bed. Kissing the shock off his face he pulls back suddenly.

“Who taught you that?” He questioned, jealousy slightly peaking through.

“That’s a personal trick. Consider it a mini lesson of my own to you.” You leave a little boop to his nose finding his lips again before he could ask any more questions. Starting to grind down on him, he grabs your hips rolling them at a slower pace. It was deeper though, way harder. Slow hard and precise. You didn’t stop the moan that fell into his mouth. Groaning in response he squeezed your hips even tighter causing you to pull back. Arching your back while dry humping him you let out a breathy moan. Reaching up you grab your tits rolling your nipples in between your fingers. Still guiding your hips a low rumble growls from Logan’s throat as his head rolled back. A pretty erotic site.

“You’re killing me here bub.” He groaned out as he sat up meeting face to face. He starts kissing your jaw moving down to your pressure point playfully nibbling. You moan embarrassingly loud, you could feel his grin against your neck. That made you want to stroke your ego a bit. Pulling his head back by the roots of his hair you grind down extra hard feeling his hip buck to meet yours. You quietly laugh and push him back down. Crawling up an inch or two to give him one more sloppy kiss before sitting back up.

“Don’t worry baby you don’t have to wait for this pretty pussy any longer.” You’re unbuckling his belt and pulling his boxers down to remove his- holy shit huge cock.

“Damn Logan! They weren’t lying when they said you were huge down unda!” You turn to wink to the fourth wall.

“Usually that would kill the mood but you’re really fucking hot.” He pants out “Now back to what you were doing.” He pulls his pants further down his hips and you begin to stroke him.

Eventually getting to impatient you say fuck it and decide to take him all in one go. Loudly he groans, his eyes meet yours, his pupils fully blown out. At the sight you couldn’t help but start bouncing on his cock. Letting go of your hips he lets you set the pace. Grinding down you curve your hips so he could run against your walls deliciously rough. Getting slightly cock drunk after just a few strides your pace begins to increase wanting more of that feeling. Growing desperate you let out a whimpering moan. Hands falling from your chest to Logan’s chest.

“Logan, please.” You beg desperately. Still riding him you plead with him. You looked so pitiful, he couldn’t help the way his twitched hard deep in you. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“What do you want baby? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You whine out, you want him to take control and fuck the shit out of you. “Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!” You moan out loudly as he bucks his hips up suddenly. Grabbing your hand he intertwines with your fingers squeezing hard and steadying you. Bucking up into you fast he doesn’t feel he is deep enough.

Moving to grab you by your waist he flips you onto your knees face being pushed into his pillows. Drool starts to pool in your mouth form being engulfed by the scent of his sheets. He pushes himself back in quickly making you moan out his name.

“This better princess?” He said with a big smirk “I only want to hear my name come out your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy!” You were half joking about that nickname. Good thing you felt his cock twitch before you let out that nervous laugh bubbling up your throat.

“Fuck me.” He moans out.

“No fuck me-“ cut off once again by his cock pounding into you. Grabbing at the sheets you could feel his hands move from your hips to rest on either side of your head. Hitting even deeper inside you he then grabs your throat with one hand making you sit up on your hands and knees. Still fucking into you he pulls you all the way up to his chest, grabbing his arm for support you feel him tighten his grip on your neck. This euphoria wasn’t going to last much longer because you were gonna cum hard.

“Logan- I’m gonna cum!” You could barely speak between your pants and erotic moans.

“Cum on my cock princess.” His other hand finds your clit rubbing it at the same pace his cock is pounding inside of you. Letting out a loud moan you could feel the warmth building fast.

“Want me to cum inside you? I want to cum with you.” Panting to the pace of his hips he continues “Fill you up like the slut you are.” He growls into your ear. His voice full of lust and desperation.

“Fill me up baby!” You laugh out in between moans. He groans as he feels your walls spasm around him. You feel bliss and see black speckles fill your vision as your cum dribbles down his cock. Reaching back your hands find his hair and dig hard into his scalp. The pain causes Logan to fall over the edge and cum hard deep inside you.

“Oh fuck, can’t stop!” He practically whined out still fucking into you chasing his high. Still rubbing your clit you start to whine out from over stimulation. Before he can stop himself from rutting into you anymore you come again. Almost screaming out a moan you dig your nails into his shoulders. You feel so fucking warm, soaking wet and tight. Logan can’t pull himself away from you. You feel to good.

“Logan, you horny bitch!” Smirking while grinding back into him you slow his pace down. Moving his hand away from your clit his hands find the inner parts of your thigh. Picking you up slightly to meet his hips even closer than before he groans into the side of your neck. You start to feel the familiar cold metal of his claws poking into your thighs.

“Feel good pretty boy?” You turn towards his face and move one of your hands to his jaw. Before he could answer you start to make out with him while still grinding into him harder. Logan moans into your mouth before pulling away. Finally stopping with his cock still hard inside you he sighs into your shoulder kissing you.

“Feel real fucking good.” Starting to leave a hickey right behind your ear you begin to pull away.

“You trying to go another round or do you need more time to recover hot stuff? I don’t want to hurt that metal hip you know how to move just right.” Squeezing his sides you can feel his abs move under your hands. You moan quietly moving your hands down to his v line. Eventually making your way to his ass giving it a firm squeeze. Turning your head at the same time you find the side of his neck biting down a little rough on the lobe of his ear.

He growls out and you can feel his claws start to push against the flesh of your thighs. Retracting them he pulls out and flips you around sitting you up on your knees facing him on the edge of the bed.

“Bend down and suck my dick loud mouth.” Grabbing you by the base of your hair you slowly started crawling down onto your hands and knees. Ass arched in the air you find the tip of his cock in your face. Pre cum falling from his pinkish tip. You lick your lips looking up at him.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Not getting a chance to say anything else he starts fucking into your mouth. Breathing through your nose you start to lick against his length going opposite of his thrusts. Loud squelching filled the room. It was absolutely filthy, but so fucking HOT! You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver through him. Moaning loud he starts going faster. Tears start to roll down your cheeks and you feel nothing but pure pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum soon. Keep sucking baby.” His eyes are shut tightly and you decide then you want to see him totally fucked out. Sucking extra hard and messy you lock eyes with him when he looks down at you. Moaning loudly he starts to pant.

“Good girl! Fuck you’re really good! Don’t stop!” Using both hands he starts pushing your head down faster and way deeper. His dick was starting to go down your throat. Deep throating him you hold yourself down on his cock moaning out his name. Barely audible for obvious reasons, he pulled you off his cock.

“What’s my name princess?” He smirks holding the base of his cock in his other hand.

“Logan!” Sounding hoarse considering this is the first time you could breathe in the last 5 minutes.

“But I prefer wolf daddy!” Always gotta keep the mood light! Gently slapping you on your cheek he pushes your head all the way down his cock. Gagging from the sudden intrusion you quickly begin to suck on him again.

Logan’s hips bucked into your mouth over and over while his balls slapped against your chin. Slobber running down your chin reaching your throat dribbling all over his balls and down his pelvis. His pubes leading to a happy trail is all you can focus on for the moment. Some of your juice still glistening on his mound. You moan against his dick again finally pushing him over causing him to grip your hair tight. Swallowing every last drop he has to give you. A low hum comes from you as the veins on his chest pop out from the pleasure. God this man was fucking hot. Rock hard abs, a sweat glistened chest with the sexiest chest hair, his perfectly cut arms and beautifully sculpted legs. The full package. And god knows you LOVE his package.

Popping off his cock once he was down you swallow the rest of his cum in your mouth. Licking your lips you sit up meeting his lips so he could taste himself on your tongue. One passionate steamy kiss later you pull back running a hand through his hair down to his cheek.

“I’m surprised you can use that mouth for more than just shit talk.” He chuckles kissing you quickly on the cheek.

“You always have to be able to ride the cock if you’re gonna talk the talk. Is that how that saying goes?” Tilting your head he puts his hand over your mouth.

“Enough of that.” Shaking his head he leaves you on the bed going to his closet. He pulls out a new pair of boxers pulling them on and then grabbing a pair for you. Moving over he grabs a wife beater for himself and an over sized flannel for you. Walking back over he sets your clothes on the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Pointing to your cunt that’s still dripping his cum. “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave a mess.”

Kneeling down he sits between your legs. Without saying a word he starts licking between your folds lapping up all the cum in its wake. Rolling your head back you fall back on to your elbows. Moaning out his name his tongue dives into your hole making your flinch. Hand instinctively finding his hair pulling a little. Finding your eyes he starts to suck on your clit. Flicking his tongue fast up and down, then swirling around you he moans. The noise mixed with being over stimulated already had you cumming again but this time into his mouth.

“God Logan don’t stop!” Riding against his face you stop a minute later once your high has passed. With a groan you fall limp against his sheets. Not even caring about the slight ache that goes through your back.

“I finally got you to shut up.” And without saying a word you’re already out cold. Getting a cloth he washes you up and dresses you in his clothes. I guess he didn’t mind spending the night with you in his bed. You were surprisingly cute when you slept snoring softly and cuddled all into his side. You were warm and soft too. Logan can learn to like this quiet side of you.

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I haven’t posted for a while so it’s hard not to second guess myself. Let me know if you want anymore Wolverine and possibly even Deadpool content?

[beomcoups]

Food Wars pt. 1

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you. 

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom.  Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her. 

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion. 

You need a fucking drink. 

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog. 

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.” 

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug. 

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke. 

You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit. 

“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love. 

It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other. 

You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.

Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie. 

Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.

“We’re here.” 

When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass. 

“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much. 

The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.

“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted. 

“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open. 

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.

He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.  

“Have you ever flown first class before?”

Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”

“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”

“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting—”

You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job. 

You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket. 

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head. 

You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.

“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”

“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”

“Why?”

The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Because I’m far from that.”

You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma.  The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.

You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.

“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”

“You did?”

You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke. 

You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?

“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”

“Oh? You guys arrived together?”

“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.” 

You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject. 

“Did you notice we are flying first class?”

“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”

“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”

Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear. 

“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”

You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside. 

Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The  Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.

You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that. 

“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos. 

“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country. 

“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.

Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.  

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.” 

He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true. 

“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day.  “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”

“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond. 

You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators. 

“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”

You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one. 

“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile. 

“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.” 

Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.

You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth. 

“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable. 

“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.

“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?” 

You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door. 

“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“You’ll see.”

You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?

Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”

You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.

Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”

“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years.  Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”

You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?

You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that. 

“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.” 

“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”

He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on. 

“You look pretty,” he marveled at you. 

“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”

The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.

“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts. 

“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.” 

“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”

“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort. 

“Well, yes.”

“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.

“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.

“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”

You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.

“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.

She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot. 

“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away. 

“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”

You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.

“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours. 

“There is nothing loving going on.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”

When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong. 

You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her. 

Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito. 

“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar. 

It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night. 

“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”

“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash. 

“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”

Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella. 

“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink. 

“Of course, princess,” he jests back.

As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you. 

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.” 

You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask. 

“What got you into cooking?”

You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that. 

Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”

Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”

Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips. 

“Is it okay if I—”

“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”

His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center. 

“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.

Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena. 

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you. 

“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”

Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy. 

Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)

tag: @nonuify

[just-jordie-things]

video games - takuma ino

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11.6k warnings: mentions of blood, drinking summary: ino has been infatuated with his non-sorcerer roommate since day one. but he's convinced she couldn't feel the same way. more info: roommate!au, friends to lovers, gojo hits on you but it's for the greater good ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you // everything i do // i tell you all the time, heaven is a place on earth with you // tell me all the things you wanna do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

How Takuma Ino ended up with a non-sorcerer roommate wasn’t as interesting of a story as his colleagues always thought it would be when they’d first find out.  They were always so eager for the details- was she his girlfriend? Did she know about his career and lifestyle? Was she cute? How did they meet?- and even though Ino would often laugh sheepishly and duck his head to hide his smile, the truth just wasn’t that exciting.

The truth was that as fun as being a jujutsu sorcerer was, it didn’t pay well.  So he needed a roommate in order to better afford rent.  One ad led to another, and soon (y/l/n) (y/n) was showing up asking for a tour.  It only took one visit for her to decide to move in, and they’ve been roommates for the better part of a year now.

Ino always leaves out the part where he didn’t believe she’d actually agree to join the lease with him- when she’d shown up at his door he figured she’d only asked for a tour to be polite.  In his mind there was just no way that a young woman as beautiful and hard working in her field needed a roommate- much less some random dude like him.  She’d been so friendly and easy going upon their first meeting and they seemed to click just right, so she’d shook his hand and set a move-in date that very day.  When she’d left, Ino had collapsed on his sofa with a beer and a bewildered laugh to himself.  Even now, he’s not sure how he managed to make it happen.

“You wanna order chinese? I don’t feel like cooking” 

(y/n’s) call from the other side of the room drew him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over the back of the couch to see her rummaging through the pantry.  Logic reared it’s head, reminding him that they’d just bought groceries so they should probably save the money and eat at home tonight.

But then she gave him that hopeful little smile that he couldn’t help but return before nodding his head.  Logic never won in a battle against something (y/n) wanted.

“Sure” He agrees through his smile.

By the time she’s dressed in her comfy lounging clothes, he’s already called their usual place and made an order.  He’d long since memorized her go-to order and was usually the one put in charge of calling.  He never minded.  How could he complain when everything about their situation was just so perfect? 

The roommate of his dreams, she was.  Tidy, quiet, a great cook, and one of the most pleasant people he’s ever gotten to know, Ino truly believed he struck gold when (y/n) answered his ad.  So even when his colleagues teased him for his living situation, he could hardly care.

And tease him they did.  Gojo was the main assailant.  Often joking about how strong Ino must feel all the time, being in the presence of a weak non-sorcerer human.  How she must think he was some superhero compared to all the lame human men she’d meet at her job or through her friends.  How Ino must be so lucky to have a young lady as his roommate.   Still, no matter how much he messed around, Ino knew that there was no harm in Gojo’s words.  And he also knew that if he’d actually met (y/n), he’d shut his ignorant mouth.

Nanami didn’t invest himself too much in Ino’s private life, he was simply respectful and reserved like that, but on occasion he’d been known to ask about his roommate.  Mostly situational to their occupation- such as what she thought of the nasty cuts and bruises he’d come home with- but once in a blue moon he’d make a comment suggesting it was only a matter of time before one of them developed feelings.  Ino always flustered under the light of those questions and found a way to avoid them.

In the few times throughout his week that he’d cross paths with Shoko, she always made a point to ask about his roommate.  Which was sort of odd, seeing as her work in the infirmary didn’t make them the closest of colleagues, but at first the casual conversation was welcomed.  But it was only a matter of time before she, too, would begin pestering him about making a move on her.

They all seemed to have the same underlying message.  How could you share a living space with someone and not catch feelings for them? And Ino spent a lot of his time and energy trying to convince them that it simply wasn’t like that.  Just because they both happened to be single, and close friends, and sharing a small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean that romantic feelings were bound to happen.  They were both adults, they could live in such a situation and keep their hands and hearts to themselves.

He was a liar, though.

Takuma Ino had fallen completely, head over heels in love with his roommate, and there was no chance of him ever getting over that feeling.

It had taken relatively no time for the feelings to develop.  Shortly after her moving in, she’d made an effort to be close to him.  There wasn’t a moment where he felt like she wanted space or privacy away from him.  She often offered to help him cook, or invited him grocery shopping with her, or out to a movie she wanted to see, and a fast friendship blossomed.  The way she always reached out to include him had him swooning in no time.

Coffee runs, movie nights, and frequent texting throughout their days before they both came home all snowballed into one undeniable truth.  He was falling in love with her.

When Ino had first realized that’s what was happening when his heart would leap out of his chest when she’d scoot close to him on the couch so they could share a blanket while they watched a movie or played a game together, he’d tried to bury it.  Because surely his mind was just playing tricks on him.  Surely he was just excited that a pretty and kind girl like her wanted to be so close to him, and his feelings were strictly platonic.

But then he found himself relaxing just from the smell of her shampoo wafting close to him.  He realized that when he would come home from a late assignment and she’d be waiting for him that his heart was skipping a beat because it was just so perfectly domestic.  He couldn’t deny it for too long at all, not when she so sweetly saved him the leftovers from her dinner and would heat it up for him while he showered and de-stressed from the particularly rough assignment.

The only problem was that he knew she didn’t feel the same way, and he’d been struggling to keep his true feelings hidden.  From her, and from his pesky fellow sorcerers.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) hated when Ino came home late from his assignments.

Not because the squeak door woke her up, or because it meant she was alone taking care of the evening chores.  It was simply because she’d stay up every time, too consumed with anxiety to go to sleep without knowing he’d returned safe and sound.

Which, in all fairness, he always did.  He always came home, and most of the time he’d shoot her a message saying he’d wrapped up with work and was on his way- even when it was one in the morning- like tonight.

She waited up on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with the title screen of a movie she’d watched hours ago playing it’s intro for the thousandth time.  In all fairness she knew he could handle himself, and he’d never not come home, or come back with life threatening injuries.

That didn’t mean he didn’t come back hurt, and that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fuss over him, every single time.

And tonight when he finally stumbles into the apartment, just as the clock ticks past two, she’s practically gnawing at her nails as she rushes towards him.

Despite the way he limps, and there’s blood trickling out of his nose, he gives her a smile, and he’s the first to worry.

“It’s late, you should be in bed” He scolds without any real threat to his words.  This routine had established itself months ago, and he knew damn well that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until she knew he was safely returned home.

Still, he worried about something as silly as her sleep schedule every time.

“Shut up” Is all (y/n) mumbles, beckoning him further into their apartment, until he’s following her to the bathroom.  

She’s faster than him, pulling out the well loved first aid kit and getting everything prepped and ready on the counter while he slowly staggers in behind her.  It was practically the same scene every time he came home like this.  No matter how beat up he was- with a mere scratch or bloodied to a pulp- she was forcing him to sit down on the lid of the toilet seat so she could tend to his injuries herself.

Ino wasn’t sure if it was for her own well being and comfort, knowing that she’d taken care of him and none of his injuries would get infected.  Or if maybe she just didn’t trust him to take care of them himself, maybe she knew that his idea of first aid was slapping a hello kitty band aid on it and calling it a night.

(There was one instance a few months ago where he’d left a hello kitty band aid on the back of his hand that she’d so lovingly placed there, and Gojo didn’t let him hear the end of it for the entire day.  Not that Ino minded.  Every time he caught a glimpse of the pink band aid it brought a smile to his face remembering how gentle she’d been covering the cut underneath, how her thumb had stroked over the sticker so lightly to ensure it was well placed and would do the trick.  He left that band aid on his hand for as long as he could before eventually it lost his adhesive and in turn he lost it)

Either way, he never tried to talk her out of tending to him.  Even when he knew it was too late for her to be staying up just to clean up some silly injuries that were nothing compared to the things that Shoko healed with her Reverse Cursed Technique- but he’d never tell (y/n) about the broken bones or brushes with death.  He’d just keep his mouth shut and sit on that toilet seat while she soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic and gently dabbed at the cuts on his arm.

“Sorry” 

She’d mumble the apology every time she’d make first contact with the injury, knowing how the alcohol tended to sting.  And every time, Ino would give her a small smile and tell her it was alright.

“How was your day?” He hummed as she continued to clean up the few cuts on his arms.  She had his sleeve rolled all the way up and tucked carefully at his shoulder so it wouldn’t be a hindrance.  She hummed thoughtfully before shrugging a shoulder.

“Pretty boring, nothing of note,” She murmured back truthfully.  “Until now” She adds, her eyes meeting his just so he’d catch the hint of reprimand in her tone.

Ino can’t help but chuckle to himself, he’d forever be amused by the way she worries over him.  She may have been new to the world of jujutsu sorcery, but it never failed to humor him how she’d fuss and worry over such minor injuries.  Injuries that Shoko wouldn’t treat even if Ino walked into the infirmary and begged for it.  Surely he’d be laughed at.

“So you’re saying I’m the highlight?” He teases quietly, and (y/n) rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny it.  She chooses the safe route and keeps her focus on her handiwork.  He still laughs at her obvious non-answer.  “Work was alright, though?” 

“I suppose,” She answers.  “Got home early because some people in my department were going out and convinced my boss to join, so they let us all leave early.  That was nice” 

Ino gave her a small frown, but it went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t go?” 

Her eyes briefly flicker up to his, and she purses her lips before shrugging her shoulders in a small movement.

“Wasn’t really in the mood,” She says, and it’s not a total lie, but she averts her eyes shortly after, reaching out to the first aid kit on the counter again.  She fishes around a bit before finding the package of square shaped band aids.  “Besides, I didn’t know when you’d be back” She added.

It deepens his frown, but she’s completely avoiding his gaze now.  He expects as much, seeing as he’s had this conversation with her before.  He encourages her to go out with her friends more, or make new friends at work to hang out with, and she always has an excuse at the ready.  Sometimes her reasoning was decent, but most of the time it was obvious she came up with them on the spot, and it made his heart sink.

Of course he wanted her around all the time, pushing her away was absolutely a struggle for him, but Ino knew that if they continued only spending time with one another, then his feelings would never go away.  It would be hard, but tremendous help if she made a new best friend, or better yet a boyfriend, and then he’d have to get over her, he was sure.

“You shouldn’t avoid your friends cause of me,” He tells her quietly.  “It’s late, you could’ve gone out… if you wanted to” 

After placing a band aid on his skin and smoothing down the corners so it stayed intact, she glanced up at him.  A small knot formed between her brows before she cracked a goofy smile.

“They’re not my friends, Ino,” She chuckles at him.  “They’re coworkers.  I see them plenty enough, I don’t need to hang out with them outside of work- where we would probably still only talk about work” 

As far as excuses went, it was a pretty damn good one.  So this time he gave in, smiling and nodding back at her in understanding.

“Guess that’s fair,” He mumbles, and she laughs quietly again as she opens up another band aid.  “I just… I dunno, I don’t want you missing out of stuff, that’s all” 

“I think I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my time,” She teases, her cheeks warming at the insinuation in her admission.  “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be” 

His heart skips a beat, and as lovely as the feeling is when his stomach flips, Ino wishes she wouldn’t say stuff like that.  It gave his heart the wrong idea, and it was hard to fight with his heart.  He was convinced his brain just wasn’t strong enough to fight the delusion.

“So your ideal night is patching up this idiot, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her in that way that always makes her laugh, and she does, bubbly and sweet, and again his stomach does a flip.  Making her laugh always brightened him up completely.  Like a video game character maxing out his health bar.

“I think I would’ve made a great doctor” She teases back, shaking the box of band aids at him before carefully tucking them back in their spot in the first aid kit.

“You don’t even give me lollipops, how could you say that?” Ino retorts in mock offense- although it would make these little patch up sessions even better if he was rewarded with her close proximity and candy, but he’d accept one sweet thing at a time.

“Shut up,” She says through her giggles, finally closing up the whole kit.  “You’re lucky I don’t do any of the scary stuff.  I’ll leave that for your sorcerer friends” 

“Eh, it might come to that,” Ino shrugs.  He stays seated as she puts the small case back into it’s spot in the cabinet, lingering in her space for however long she’ll let him.  “Shoko will probably get tired of me eventually, you know.  How comfortable are you with stitches?” 

The grin on his face is nothing short of teasing- and he knows he should stop.  He knows that eventually the lines get blurry and he’s not sure how much his teasing is starting to blend into flirting, and with how playful her nature is she’s never afraid to dish it back.  Not once had she reacted in an uncomfortable manner to something he’s said, but that only makes it harder for him to draw that line in the sand.

(y/n) shuts the cabinet and turns to him with her hands on her hips.  A serious look flashes across her expression that he can’t tell if it’s meant to be in humor or if she’s actually about to drop the playful atmosphere.  With a step towards him, she leans over so her height matches his, and they’re face to face.

“Takuma Ino,” She declares, eyes boring into his with an intensity that makes him gulp down on air.  “Unless you want some really funky looking scars, don’t go asking me to stitch you up.  Leave it to your magic friends” 

His anxious expression drops as he breaks into a smile, amused by her choice of words, and her own face softens as she smiles back at him.  It was infectious, the way he smiled.  It could get her to crack even when she was really trying to be stubborn.  A secret weapon of his that (y/n) was pretty sure he used on purpose, but there were some instances she could be convinced that he had no clue of this power.

“My magic friends, huh?” He repeats with a smirk.  

He’d definitely have to tell Gojo about that one when he saw him next.  Surely it would feed into his ego, if not make him cackle.

(y/n) stands up again, her cheeks suddenly feeling a little too warm, before she spins around and heads out of the bathroom.  Finally, Ino stands, stretching his sore limbs and checking over the array of bandages on his arm before following after her.

“Or better yet, just don’t get yourself hurt anymore” (y/n) adds, her back turned to him as she makes her way towards her room.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t thought of that” He shot back in a mocking voice.  He knows she rolls her eyes, even if he can’t see.

“Just sayin’, why don’t you work on that technique where stuff doesn’t touch you? Like that one guy?” 

He has to bite his cheek to keep himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.  She was trying her best to understand how jujutsu worked, even if she was a little off the mark.  There was also something so rewardingly funny about someone not remembering who Gojo Satoru was- even if she’d never met the guy.

“Not exactly how it works,” He replies.  (y/n) turns to him as she stands in the middle of her doorway.  Her tiredness is more evident now in the way she leans against it and blinks slowly back at him.  “Pretty sure I gotta stick with the one I was born with”  

She hums, pursing her lips as she tries to recall all of his explanations for the finicky sorcerer world.  But her mind is foggy with exhaustion and she’s getting a little too swept up in how softly his brown eyes gaze at her, so she shakes her head and finally turns towards her room.

“Noted,” She tells him, knocking twice on her frame before grabbing the handle of her door and pulling it behind her.  “G’night Ino” 

His heart warms as he bids her goodnight, and he lingers in the empty apartment for a few more seconds before making his way into his own bedroom.  

Every minute spent with her felt special and worth basking in, even when nothing significant happened, even when it was a completely normal night.  Just being around her was enough for his insides to melt into a buttery mess.

When he goes to sleep, he hopes to see her in his dreams, where he doesn’t have to feel anxious or guilty about his feelings, and he can be with her freely, without a care in the world.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“There’s gonna be this… work thing… next weekend,” 

He brings it up out of nowhere, although he’s spent a while trying to find a way to say it, he actually blurts it out in the middle of the two of them watching a movie.  So it’s not actually surprising when (y/n) turns towards him with a puzzled look on her face, already reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

Tonight she sits close enough that with his arm strewn across the back of the couch, it could almost feel like they were cuddled up together.  Even though they’re not touching- unless you counted the stray hairs that fell from her claw clip and brushed his arm behind her head.

“If you wanted to come, anyways,” Ino clears his throat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a little more on the spot with the movie stopped and her full attention on him.  “Gojo’s hosting, said anyone can come, I- I don’t have that many details yet, but, um, I’ll probably go, since Nanami said he was-” 

“And I’m allowed to go?” She ends his suffering with her question, her brows raising in shock.

“Allowed?” Ino repeats the choice of word, followed by a short chuckle.  “Of course you are, why do you say it like that?” 

“I dunno,” Her shoulders shrug limply, although she knows exactly why she asks.  “Cause… I’m not like you, I guess” 

Ino’s never given too much thought to their differences.  Besides when he’d realized he’d have to tell her the truth about his career, and they had spent hours on this very sofa while he explained the complicated history of jujutsu, and the ins and outs of curses and cursed techniques.  She’d had her uncertainties, and endless questions, but after that talk, the stark differences in the lives they led outside of this apartment rarely came up.  He could almost say it didn’t matter, but he didn’t want to diminish either of their careers.

Now, as he watches her begin to curl up like she was trying to shrink into herself, his heart falls a little bit.  Did she really feel like she didn’t deserve an invite? Just because she was a non-sorcerer? In his eyes, it certainly didn’t make her any less of a person.  He could almost laugh.  How could a person like her feel that way? Someone so good hearted, hard working, brilliant, gorgeous- 

“Ino?” She presses forward, drawing him out of his derailed train of thoughts.  He blinks a few times as he comes back to the present moment.

“I want you to come” He says, feeling much bolder than he had when he first brought the subject up.

Now she’s blinking back at him wordlessly, eyes going round and a smile tugging at her lips.

“You do?” She asks, just to be sure, even though there’s not a doubt in her mind that he means it, with how genuine and hopeful his expression is.  Warmth blooms in her face, and she hopes that her blush isn’t too embarrassing.

It’s not.  Ino finds it utterly adorable, and quite endearing.

“Yeah,” He affirms with a nod of his head, before pushing a hand through his hair to pull it away from his face.  “I want you to meet everyone.  And I want them to finally meet you, too.  If you want to, that is” 

Her smile widens a little further as she nods back at him, the movement jittery and short, displaying her eagerness in it’s fullest.

“Sounds fun.  I’d love to,” She says softly.  Ino lights up with excitement, sitting up a little straighter as he beams at her.

However, before he can reach for the remote and start their movie up again, she snatches it away, a curious expression crossing her features as she studies him.

“But what do you mean finally, hm?” She muses, the question only half-playful.  Curiosity did get the best of her after all.  “Have they been dying to meet me or something?” 

He makes a face at her that makes her laugh, her eyes lighting up as his expression alone confirms what she’d been thinking.

“Have you been talking about me to your coworkers, Ino?” She teases, her grin practically splitting her face.

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I do,” He tries to play it off, reaching out for the remote again, but she pulls her hand away just before he can take it, subsequently having him lean almost fully across her, his arm outstretched towards the object that could free him of this torture.  “(y/n)” He huffs in annoyance, frowning at her when she still doesn’t play the movie.

“Nuh uh,” She says childishly while shaking her head.  “What do you tell them about me?” She presses further.

He wants to roll his eyes, and huff and groan until she’s annoyed into going back to their movie- which had just been starting to get good before he started this whole thing- but he can’t.  He just can’t bring himself to do it.  Not when she’s grinning up at him and he swears he sees an actual sparkle in her eyes.

“C’mon dummy, they know all about you” Again, Ino tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal.  

(As if he hadn’t gone on a long winded story to Nanami just the other day about how he was going to surprise her with a fruit bouquet of mangos on her nearing birthday, because she’d recently become obsessed with the tangy fruit and demanded they picked up the most overpriced ones every time they went to the grocery store.  Nanami had little to know interest in hearing about all the places Ino had researched who make fruit arrangements and how he hadn’t deemed any of them good enough yet) 

“All about me, huh?” She repeats curiously, before humming, content with the response.  

Then she finally pushes play on the remote before dropping it onto the cushion beside her.  Ino sends a silent thank you prayer to whatever greater force was looking out for his dignity, and settles back into his seat.

He swears when (y/n) gets settled, she’s sat just a little bit closer to him.  He’s pretty sure her shoulder wasn’t grazing against his earlier.

They’re a few minutes in before she speaks up again, her voice merely a soft whisper beside him.

“You didn’t have to be all shy about it.  I talk about you at work all the time” 

Ino can barely keep his focus on the whole rest of the movie.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The work event isn’t necessarily a fancy one.  There’s not a dress code, and despite Ino’s worries with Gojo organizing it, it’s not at some five star establishment he couldn’t even afford to look at.  It’s held at a small local restaurant and bar.  

Gojo does, however, rent out the place for the evening, so the only patrons tonight would be those from Jujutsu Tech, and whoever they decide to bring.

Despite it being business casual at most, it still feels like it’s the most dressed up he’s ever gotten for going somewhere with (y/n).  Maybe it’s just his heart working on overdrive after seeing the simple but sleek black dress she’d chosen to wear for the night, paired with a little mesh wrap that was tied in a little bow at her chest and flared at the sleeves for some personality- but as soon as the evening began, Ino was starting to overthink.

“I’ve never been here before,” (y/n) hums as they approach the venue.  “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this” 

She peeks a glance over at Ino as he’s also admiring the building.  It’s a rather small restaurant, but the architecture has enough character that it’s worth getting a good look at before going inside.  Or maybe he was just stalling where he could.

He looks really nice tonight, she thinks, and the thought instantly makes her heart skip a beat as she takes a few more seconds to look at him.  He’s in dark slacks and a cotton black sweater that looks so soft she’s suddenly dying to pinch the fabric between her fingers to see for herself.  It’s paired with a white collared undershirt for a little extra flair- something she knows she once told him she liked seeing on a man- and without his mask piled up on top of his head his long hair wisps in slight curls around his ears, just barely touching his shoulders.

She knows she’s been staring for too long, but it takes a few tries before she actually pulls her gaze away from him.

“I wasn’t either,” Ino says, and it takes her a minute to remember what she’d even said.  “Knowing Gojo, I was expecting something… worse” 

(y/n) chuckles to herself, before nodding to the door.

“Time to enjoy not worse?” She prompts, and he grins before gesturing for her to follow him inside.

Ino reaches over her shoulder to push the door open, only to follow behind her with a gentle hand on her back guiding her in.  The silk of her dress is so smooth and thin against the light graze of his hand that he can feel the heat of her skin through it, and it takes a mental talk with himself in order to keep him from pressing his hand fully against her back.

She gives him a sweet smile in gratitude, before both of their attention is pulled away by the shrill of cheering amongst the chatter of people in the restaurant.

There weren’t a lot of people- there weren’t many jujutsu sorcerers to begin with- but there were enough to fill the room with a certain level of white noise with background conversation.  All of that was drowned out by a small group of people currently shouting and beckoning Ino and his date over towards them.

Most of the shouting came from Gojo, but Shoko and Utahime seemed to be at just the right amount of intoxicated to join in with loud bouts of laughter.  Nanami is also at the table, politely sipping his drink with a mere nod of greeting as Ino brings (y/n) their way.

“I guess I should have given you some warnings” He says under his breath as they make their way through the slight crowd. 

Most of the managers are grouped together, Nitta giving a friendly wave in passing before going back to a heated argument that made Ino and (y/n) chuckle to themselves.  It lightened some of the tension in (y/n’s) shoulders.  She didn’t want to bother him with her silly anxieties, but she’d been quite worried about showing up to an event full of people who were extraordinary, meanwhile she was merely a salary worker.

Don’t get her wrong, she worked hard and was proud of how quickly she’d moved up in the ranks, but how could she compare that to people with other-worldly abilities? People who actively saved lives? 

“Warnings?” She murmurs, glancing over at him, only to find his gaze already set on her.

“Not- not bad ones, necessarily,” Ino stammered.  “It’s just… Gojo is loud, and nosy, but he’s a good time and he means no harm, promise,” 

(y/n) nods in understanding, eyes flickering back to the table of sorcerers they were currently headed towards.  She had a pretty good idea of which one was Gojo.

“Nanami’s quiet.  He looks judgemental, but he’s not.  Well- maybe a little, but he’s polite.  So.  It’s fine, I don’t have any warnings about Nanami, he’ll like you a lot” 

“Yeah?” A flattered smile spreads across her glossy lips.  It was silly to take pride in being liked by a stranger, but she knew how much Ino looked up to his mentor, and it made her heart flutter to think he believed the man he respected so much would approve of her.

“Absolutely,” Ino’s voice is rich with certainty as he nods at her.  “Shoko’s kind of a weirdo, that’s just cause she works in the morgue all day so her sense of humor is… warped.  Utahime is her not-very-secret girlfriend, I’ve told you about that right?” 

(y/n) nods in confirmation.  She may have never met these people, but she felt like she knew most of them well enough just from the late night gossip sessions they’d have after a shared bottle of wine.

“Any questions?” He asked, slowing their steps the closer they got to the table.  

It was just like Gojo to set his little crew of odd semi-forced friends up in the corner where they could have some privacy, even though they were the loudest bunch of the whole gathering.  At least he had the decency to rent the place out so the only people he was bothering were those he already bothered on a regular basis.

“No,” (y/n) said softly, before reaching out and curling her fingers around the sleeve of his shirt, bringing his attention back towards her.  “Just one request?” 

Ino gives her a small nod, halting in place as he stares at her with a grave seriousness in his eyes.

“Don’t ditch me here?” 

He almost laughs at the ask, but he stops himself when he notes the hints of anxiety hidden in her expression.  The twitch at the corner of her mouth, the slight pinch in her brow.  He clears his throat and nods at her, before grinning widely.

“Of course not!” He declares, squeezing her wrist gently before she drops her hold on his sleeve.  “What do you take me for? A gentleman would do no such thing” 

And as they finally approach the table of Ino’s closest colleagues, they’re both laughing, and some more tension is relieved from her shoulders.

Ino’s quick to introduce her, and he goes around the table to remind her of everyone’s names quickly, trying to get the awkward stage out of the way as quickly as possible.  Everyone behaves well enough, or as well as he could hope for.  Utahime’s a bit excitable as she compliments (y/n’s) dress and sparkling accessories, but it helps to break the ice as the two slip into conversation about their favorite boutiques.

Ino wants to point out that the Kyoto based sorcerer never was one for small talk with him, but he keeps his mouth shut solely because (y/n) warms up to her and Shoko quickly and he doesn’t want to throw a wrench in their bonding.

Gojo’s clearly in the middle of some wild and possibly partially made up retelling about a special grade curse he’d exorcized on a recent assignment, so after introductions he resumes his exaggerated storytelling, giving (y/n) and Ino time to order drinks and chat with Shoko and Utahime a little longer.

“You’re pretty brave for coming,” Shoko points out to (y/n), earning a slight glare from Ino, to which she backtracks and waves her hand dismissively.  “I just mean because this is the worst” 

“I don’t think so” (y/n) shrugs with a sweet smile as she sips her drink.

“You don’t know us that well yet, you’ll change your mind later,” Utahime chimes in.  “This,” She gestures towards Gojo, who’s talking wildly with his hands as he reaches the climax of his story.  “Is why I took off to Kyoto, first chance”

It earns a laugh from Shoko and Ino, so (y/n) forces a small chuckle as well, but so far she couldn’t complain about the company.  Sure, the white haired man wearing sunglasses inside in the evening seemed a bit theatrical and high energy, but it was a party setting, right? So she could give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Speaking of-” Shoko gets up from her seat, not so subtly tapping Utahime’s hand, “I need a smoke” 

“Oh, yeah, me too”

Utahime glances at (y/n) and Ino with a raised brow, silently offering them to join, but one look at Shoko’s wide eyes tells them to shake their heads and stay in place.  Even if they did smoke, they were clearly not wanted at this particular break.

Once they’re out of sight, (y/n) turns to Ino, obviously fighting a grin on her face, before she leans in close to talk a little more privately.

“Oh, it’s painfully obvious” 

He laughs back at her, nodding his head in agreement before tapping the rim of his glass against hers.

Their moment is broken up when long limbs stretch across the empty space that Utahime and Shoko had left, and apparently Gojo had wrapped up his story because now he’s slinking towards the two with a coy grin on his face.

“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?” 

(y/n) fights the urge to stagger backwards as he comes close.  He has a wild sort of energy surrounding him.  He’s intimidating, but not in a way that makes her afraid, just very aware of how large and powerful he is.  She wonders if even a non-sorcerer like her can pick up on signatures of cursed energy, or if this was just his raw aura.

But the way he smiles is inviting and the bubbly giggles that erupt from him provide nothing but a feeling of friendliness, as if he was someone (y/n) had known for years.

“Almost a year” She answers, forcing a smile that she hopes doesn’t come across as awkward as it feels.

“Wow, a whole year!” He cheers, raising his glass at the accomplishment.  “That’s absolutely marvelous.  A whole year, huh?” He repeats it again thoughtfully, tilting his head just slightly.

Ino’s not sure if she’s noticed, but since Gojo approached them, he hadn’t once torn his eyes off of her.  Perhaps she couldn’t tell with the dark shades covering his line of sight, but Ino had gotten quite used to reading Gojo’s body language even with the blockage of a blindfold.  

He also wasn’t a complete dunce, he knew that the way she looked tonight made it difficult for anyone to take their eyes off of her.  Even Utahime had gotten that glazed over look after they talked for long enough.  No one was immune, it seemed, but Gojo was probably the only person in the room that sparked a nasty feeling in Ino’s chest with the way he smirked down at her.

The feeling is a dull heat, only ignited into something worse when Gojo pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, bright blue eyes on full display, and now so obviously focused on (y/n).

“How does someone go a whole year living with a pretty thing like you and not make a move, hm?” 

Ino’s face twists up with shock and disgust, which humors Gojo as he begins to cackle, but he still doesn’t spare a glance away from (y/n), who barely reacts at all as she stands before them.  She simply tilts her glass around, slowly mixing the ice around her drink.  She doesn’t crack a laugh, but she also doesn’t give any sign that she’s upset with the unabashed flirting.

Neither of them are given the proper chance to respond to the bold comment, as suddenly Nanami’s approaching them, shooting Gojo a look that made the special grade sorcerer head off with some excuse about a fresh drink.

Thankfully, Nanami completely changes the subject of conversation, and Ino does his best to forget about what just happened as (y/n’s) properly introduced to his mentor.  They shake hands, exchange a few pleasantries, but are ultimately quick to jump into conversation about Ino himself- even with him still standing there.  

A lot of the stories they share are more embarrassing than he’d like, but he’s able to stand it for a little while.  For both of them, at least.  They were the most important people in his life after all, he’d been eager for them to finally meet.

But as soon as (y/n) gets Nanami to actually laugh about her first witnessing his cursed technique over an unwanted bug in the apartment, Ino finds himself using the same lame excuse of grabbing them a couple more drinks before he’s darting away from the downright humiliating memory.

(y/n) giggles and doesn’t even indulge Nanami in the story once Ino’s walked away.  She’d just wanted to make him sweat a little, and clearly his mentor had gotten a kick out of it as well.

“He clearly adores you,” Nanami says, cutting through the light hearted atmosphere with a statement so genuine that (y/n’s) features soften as she takes in his words.  “I’ll give him that.  He’s a good sorcerer, and person.  And clearly his judgment is well founded” 

It’s a… distinguished compliment, that’s for sure.  (y/n) finds herself blushing and she can’t even quite explain why.  Was it the compliment itself or the insinuation behind it? Ultimately she decides to play it off due to the slight buzz she was running on.

“I’m certainly lucky to have him,” She says, and just as she glances around the room to see where he’d gone, he’s already heading back towards her with two drinks in his hands.  “I owe a greater force big time for bringing me to him, don’t I?” She murmurs.

She doesn’t look back at Nanami when she speaks, her eyes too focused on the man headed in her direction.  The blonde sorcerer ducks his head and tries to cough over his chuckling.  It’s a pitiful attempt, but judging the glazed over look in her eyes as Ino comes near, he could probably count on her not having noticed his humored state.

“Thank you” She hums when Ino hands her the fresh glass, taking the empty one from her other hand and placing it on an empty table behind him.

“Did I take too long?” He asks, just quiet enough for her to hear.

There’s a look on her face he can’t quite read, but it’s so lovely he couldn’t even be bothered to try to decipher it as he smiles fondly back at her.

Nanami takes a subtle step backwards as he watches them mirror that lovesick look at one another.

“Not at all, I was just getting to know your mentor a little better,” She tells him, gesturing to Nanami, who had now turned and was walking away completely.  “He has very kind things to say about you” 

She tilts her head at him as her smile grows a little wider.  Ino raises a brow back at her, unable to help the small bit of laughter that escapes him as he holds her stare.

“That so?” He hums, growing amused as he realizes she’s just a little bit drunk.  “Are you having a good time?” He asks, and she knows he’s really asking if she’s feeling the alcohol a bit, but she nods back at him anyways, unbothered by the hidden question.

“I am, I’m glad you brought me” 

His smile softens.

“Me too” 

Utahime and Shoko return shortly after, and soon the four of them are seated at one end of the table sharing all sorts of stories, from work to drama to things they definitely didn’t need to share for being new acquaintances, (y/n) hit it off with the pair so well Ino didn’t want to do anything to reel her in.  He was just relieved to see her getting along with the people of that part of his life.

It also helped that throughout the night she seemed to draw closer and closer to him.  Whether they were walking up to the bar and she kept so close their arms brushed together, or when they sat down and she pulled her chair close to his so that when she was leaning into the table she was reaching across his lap and almost completely in his space.  Ino could almost pretend that she was his date for the night.  He’d weakly mustered up the courage to drape his arm over the back of her chair, but that was as much of a leap as he was willing to take.

Not long after though, she raised her empty glass in his direction, and her free hand reached over her shoulder where his hand dangled off her chair, so her fingers could wrap around his.

“Another?” She hums curiously, still swirling the glass in a small circle.

His hand unintentionally twitches when her soft skin brushes over it, and as if on instinct, she slots her fingers between his.

She’s touched him before, of course, it’s not like he’s never had skin-to-skin contact before.  When patching him up, or bumping into each other in the kitchen.  One thing was certain, though… they never held hands.

And she holds his hand now with that pretty smile on her face as she waits for him to answer her question- wait, shit, how long has it been since she asked him that question?

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get another round” He agrees, and carefully slides his chair back before standing, not wanting to bump into hers.

Even when she stands, she keeps her fingers curled between his.  Ino’s not sure if she’s even aware of it- should he pull his hand away? Or perhaps she was just a bit drunk and didn’t want to stumble in her heels- so keeping his hold on her would be the right thing to do, right? 

She gives Shoko and Utahime a cheeky little wave before following beside Ino towards the bar.  Their hands still clasped together between them.  He wonders if she knows that she’s making his heart race at an unhealthy pace.

But she must know, she must realize she’s still holding it, because once they approach the bar and wait for their drinks, she’s lazily swinging their conjoined hands back and forth as she strikes up a conversation with him.

“This is much cooler than any work event I’ve ever gone to,” She tells him.  “It’s always at a chain restaurant, and there’s a socially acceptable amount of drinks you can have” 

Ino chuckles at the slight pout on her face, and finds himself giving into the slight swing of their arms.  “This stuff barely ever happens,” He shrugs.  “Probably because most people can only take Gojo in concentrated amounts,” 

Her eyes are wide as she nods at him in understanding.  In the brief interaction she’d had with the special grade sorcerer, she already completely understood what he meant.

“But if this doesn’t end in disaster and there’s a chance for another one in eight to eighteen months, you’re invited” He teases.

She lights up like a christmas tree, as if he’s just promised her tickets to a sold out tour of her favorite artist, or a seat on the next shuttle to the moon.  Her lips curl into the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, eyes glimmering with her excitement and honor, and if Ino wasn’t swooning as hard as he was, he might’ve chuckled at the drunken delight.

“Really?” She gushes, eyebrows raising with her hope.  “You will?” 

A breath of a laugh escapes him as he nods, and she rocks on her feet momentarily, too giddy to stand still.  He can’t help but reflect her grin back at her.

They’re handed their drinks, and finally (y/n) pulls her hand out of his.  He tries not to show his disappointment.  Before Ino can think of something clever to say, something that borders the line of teasing and flirting that he’s usually so good at tip-toeing over, someone else joins them at the bar.

Gojo Satoru on a regular day is a menace.  Although Ino didn’t always mind, not like his mentor did.  More often than not, he’d match the energy and get a good laugh in for the day.  But at a work-social event?  Gojo was insufferable.  Ino had already decided this the second he’d decided to hit on (y/n).

Was he irritated for the right reasons? No.  Was he actively trying to get over his feelings for his sweet, perfect, beautiful roommate? Maybe.  Did that mean shit? Absolutely not.

He’s decided that as soon as Gojo purrs out another flirty line- which he’s bound to do judging from the way he’s currently looking at her- that he’s going to take her hand again and drag her away without a word.  His heart starts to race in his chest from the anticipation, knowing that it’s soon to come once Gojo’s done chatting her up about how swell of time she’s having.

As powerful as he was, Gojo Satoru could be a bit predictable.

“You know, I could show you some pretty neat things at Jujutsu Tech if you ever wanted to learn more about sorcery,” He’s good at disguising his propositions as simple acts of kindness.  Ino’s jaw twitches as it tenses, his teeth clamping down together.  “I’m a really good teacher, you know” 

“Oh?” (y/n) scoffs, she’s faster to react than Ino, and for being at a giggly-level of intoxicated, she plays off her scoff as playful as she quirks an eyebrow up at him.  “You should probably save it for your students, then,” She says, and Ino fights the urge to snicker.  Not very well, though, it’s pretty obvious when he purses his lips and his eyes crinkle with humor.  “Besides, I’m taken” 

Ino does a full double take, the joy on his face falling and transforming into one of utter bewilderment.  If (y/n) notices the reaction, she chooses to ignore it, too busy staring down Gojo with a pointed smile that seemed sweet but screamed get lost instead.

Gojo doesn’t seem remotely offended by the bomb drop of a refusal.  In fact, he almost looks amused by it.  He grins from ear to ear as he nods back at her in understanding.

“Of course,” He murmurs, his gaze finally shifting towards Ino, only for a moment, before it’s focused on (y/n) again.  “I wasn’t trying to offend” He says, and it’s genuine.

(y/n) beams.

“You didn’t” 

With that, Gojo nods again, and then he disappears again.  Off to mess with someone else, they suppose.  Ino’s pretty sure Nanami was left unattended and he’s likely the next victim.  If the situation wasn’t so pressing, he’d probably rush off to save his mentor from the torment.  

Sorry, Nanami.

“Taken?” 

He turns to (y/n) with a look on his face that makes her brighten up.  That cute look of confusion mixed with curiosity, she just had to bask in the adorable way his brows would pinch then relax, then pinch and relax, as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.  She giggles, her smile turning toothy as she lets him baffle himself for a few seconds longer.

And then, in that soft, saccharine voice, she murmurs up at him.

“Well, I sort of am, aren’t I?” 

The night didn’t last much longer after that.  Once Shoko and Utahime were tapping out and slowly leaving the venue so as not to be bombarded by anyone- Gojo- (y/n) clung to Ino’s side a little more, and grew a bit quieter as it got later, her buzz turning into sleepiness.  

It wasn’t until Nanami made his departure that Ino decided to call it.  The only other people who were still in for the night were the managers who didn’t know when to quit.

(y/n’s) leaning back in her chair, working on drinking a second glass of water and hardly paying attention to the conversation happening around her.  She’d pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her wrap, but she let the material stay draped over her shoulders.  Ino was convinced that she might fall asleep right there in her seat.

In the last couple of minutes, he’s glanced over to find her staring at him five or six times.  Eventually he can’t hide the way his smile betrays him, and he mumbles a ‘what?’ under his breath at her.

She giggles back at him, airy and carefree, before she leans over to brush a lock of hair that curled around his ear.  A noticeable blush dusted over his cheeks as soon as her finger grazed his skin, even though the motion is just her drunken form of platonic affection, she leans so close that he can smell her perfume, and even once she’s tucked the piece of hair behind his ear, she lingers there for just a minute longer.  The lump in Ino’s throat is too large for him to talk through, so all he can do is hope his eyes aren’t ridiculously wide as he stares back at her, before she settles back in her seat again.

He thinks he might cancel his upcoming haircut appointment.  Even though it’s length was starting to get a bit annoying, he might try out the longer hairstyle for a while.  And if (y/n) continues to reach out to give it a little tuck behind his ear then that would simply be a minor bonus, wouldn’t it? 

It dawns on him after he spirals on the thought for a while that the night should be wrapped up soon.  It was time to get back home where he could chug some water and hopefully forget about how much he’d embarrassed himself tonight.

“Hey,” Ino murmurs, tapping the back of her hand gently to get her attention.  Her eyelids are heavy as she glances over at him, a small smile gracing her lips.  “You ready to go home?” 

(y/n) wakes up a bit more at that, nodding her head and tucking her arms through the sleeves of her wrap.

They slip out not long after that.  Ino keeps his arm around her waist, murmuring something about keeping her upright that he’s not even sure she hears before she’s leaning against him, slowly walking along the sidewalk on their way to the train station.  The walk and ride home is mostly silent, but it’s comfortable.  He wouldn’t ask for anything else, as long as she was tucked into his side like she belonged there, like he was made to hold her like this.

He’s not sure if the heaviness in his heart is because he’s so full of love, or if it’s because he knows deep down that this would be the closest to having her as his as he could get.  Nonetheless, he keeps his hold on her secure until they’re back in the safety of their apartment.

“Thanks for the fun night, Ino,” She murmurs after kicking her shoes off by the door.  “Let’s definitely do it again sometime, ‘kay?” 

He can only manage a small smile and a nod of agreement back at her.  

“I better get to bed, I’m going to pass out,” She lets out a tired little laugh, but before heading off, she steps closer to him, hand reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze.  Again, he gives her a smile, about to bid her goodnight as he usually does, but before he can say anything, she’s leaning up and pressing her lips against his cheek.

She kissed him.

He blinks, and she’s already pulled away, still smiling before she’s headed off to bed with a quiet goodnight hanging between them.  

Needless to stay he stands at the door with his shoes still on for embarrassingly longer than necessary, his fingers ghosting over the spot on his face her lips had just blessed.

He was set back a few paces in his whole getting over her plan, tonight.  In fact, he might’ve been knocked all the way back to square one.

Oh well, there was always tomorrow to try again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should really make a move on that roommate of yours, you know” 

Nanami’s sudden advice has Ino swiveling his head away from lunch, nearly giving himself whiplash as he stares at his mentor in shock.  They hadn’t even talked about the event last friday, so far their talk today had been strictly work related.

(Except for when Ino saw a cat across the street while on a patrol and he insisted that Nanami named the stray before they went on their way.  That was less-than work related)

“What?” The word comes out in a mere squeak, disbelief evident in his twisted expression, but he’d heard Nanami perfectly clear.  The man nods again, chewing thoughtfully on his food before swallowing, and continuing on with his moment of advice.

Nanami didn’t often feel the need to give his pupil guidance outside of jujutsu sorcery.  Ino was quite capable of taking care of himself, for being a young man with an odd form of income, he’d always taken care of himself well.  

Now, however, the 7-3 sorcerer felt the need to involve himself with this one.  And he wasn’t afraid to tell his apprentice that he was being an idiot.

“She’s a quite lovely young woman,” Nanami continues, and Ino already feels himself begin to blush.  “It was a pleasure to meet her.  I can see why you like her so much” 

Ino gives a shaky nod, still suspicious of where this was all headed, and why Nanami was pushing him to make a move- or so he’d said.

“Yeah…” Ino agrees unsurely.  “(y/n’s)... great” 

Nanami hums as he nods his head, adjusting his glasses before sitting up straighter in his seat, giving Ino an unsettling amount of direct attention.

“She’s clearly infatuated with you,” The blonde sorcerer says bluntly.  “So what’s holding you back, hm?” 

Ino opens his mouth, but when an excuse doesn’t immediately come to mind, he shuts it again.  He gapes a few more times, and Nanami is patient as he waits to hear whatever terrible excuse he comes up with, but eventually it becomes clear that Ino’s been stunned into silence, so Nanami takes over again.

“You’re a capable young man, Takuma.  Whatever is holding you back, it’s time to let go of it.  I only had to talk to her for a few minutes to know that that young lady is in love with you” 

Ino’s still gaping like a fish, but as the words sink in, he snaps his mouth shut, and swallows the lump in his throat.

“What- uh- why are you telling me this?” He stammers out.  

Nanami sighs softly, a small smile gracing his lips.  It was heartwarming to see the shy young love blossoming before him.  At least, when it wasn’t obnoxiously ignored by Takuma.

“Because it’s obvious when you two look at each other.  Usually that means it’s time to fess up” 

“Wait wait wait,” Ino put his hands up, leaning over the table they shared as he wrapped his mind around the sudden advice.  “Are you giving me… romance advice right now?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Nanami grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.  “But you’re ignoring it” 

“So you agree it’s romance advice-” 

“You love her, don’t you?” Nanami interrupts him then, brows raised pointedly as he waits for the confirmation.  It was a simple yes or no question, wasn’t it? 

When Ino shuts his mouth and swallows hard, Nanami accepts that as answer enough.

“Then don’t you think you should tell her?” 

“I…” Well, he couldn’t exactly argue with such sound advice, could he? And he certainly wasn’t about to argue with the mentor he respected beyond belief.  “I just don’t want to ruin a good thing” He admits quietly.

Now, even his ears feel like they’re on fire with the admission.

“And if you never say a thing and eventually she moves on to someone else? You wouldn’t regret your choice?” 

Ino frowns.  He should have known Nanami was only going to hit him with logic.

He finishes his lunch quietly, a silence settling between them as Nanami feels as though he’d said what he needed to say.  Ino was clearly thinking it over pretty hard- seeing as he was making his thinking face throughout the rest of their lunch break- and now all Nanami could do was hope his words would stick.

At the end of the day he wanted to see his pupil happy.  Takuma Ino was a good egg, and he deserved happiness.

It would also help if he didn’t have to sit through another event where they made heart eyes at each other for two and a half straight hours.  But mostly that first thing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ino’s nervous when he approaches the door of his apartment that evening.  It was a nice night, his final assignment didn’t go too late, and he made it home at the early early time of seven p.m.

When he does unlock the door and let himself inside, it’s not a surprise to be instantly greeted by (y/n), who grins at him from the kitchen.

“Ino!” Her smile stretches from ear to ear when he walks into the apartment.  She’s in the kitchen, wearing the silly but cute duckling themed apron she wore anytime she was in the kitchen, even if she was only using the toaster, she’d put that apron on.

So cute, he sighs as he leans back against the door, at a loss for words.  So domestic.  (y/n) looks puzzled by him staying at the door without coming in all the way, or saying hello.

With a concerned knot between her brows, she drops the utensil in her hand on the counter, and makes her way towards him.

“Ino?” She calls worriedly.  “You alright?” 

“Yeah- yeah, I’m fine, just tired, s’all” He stammers back, finally pulling the beanie off his head and dropping it on the small table they keep by the door, then kicking off his shoes.

(y/n) frowns.

“Long day?” She lets out a sigh, then wraps her arms around herself as she awaits whatever terrible thing he has to share.

Jujutsu sorcery wasn’t always about unique talents and powerful people, she’d learned quickly.  She’d seen Ino return home with a weight that only failing innocent people could place on his shoulders.  Tonight, she assumes that the lost, glazed over look on his face is due to something of the sort.

“It’s not like that,” He says as he watches her expression sadden.  Ino forces a quick smile as he shakes his head at her.  “Don’t worry about it” 

She doesn’t look at him any different, still frowning, still waiting for him to tell her what’s on his mind.

“I am worried,” She murmurs gently.  She doesn’t want to push him, but she needed him to know that she was there for him if he needed to get something off his chest.  “Did something happen-?” 

“No- no it’s really not…” He tries to explain to her that his anxiety tonight has nothing to do with work, but he doesn’t yet know how to tell her that it had everything to do with her.  He wasn’t sure how she’d take it.  Wasn’t sure if it would come out right.

Growing more concerned by the second, (y/n) takes a larger step closer, her hands reaching out for his out of instinct.  He flinches slightly when she first takes hold of them, but he lets her.  He lets her squeeze onto them and pull them close to her.

“If you need to talk about it-” 

Ino doesn’t like the way she looks at him like she could break just thinking he was in some sort of pain.  So before he can refine the words in his mind, he blurts out what had been plaguing him.  

“What did you mean the other night when you told Gojo you were taken?” 

It does the trick, because her expression morphs instantly.  She’s staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, lips still parted around the rest of her question that she now drops completely.  It catches her so off guard that she’s dead silent for a few seconds.

“And then you said you sort of were- what does that mean?” Ino’s prepared with another question, and she worries he’ll keep piling them on before she could come up with the proper answers for them.

Her face feels warm, and a nervous smile spreads on her lips, followed by a small chuckle that dies in her throat.  It’s a cute sound, anxious, but cute nonetheless.  It makes the corner of Ino’s lips tilt upwards upon hearing it.  It was a natural reaction, smiling whenever she would laugh.  He couldn’t help it.  Seeing her happy, even in a state of nervous energy, set butterflies free in his stomach in a way he hadn’t felt since his childhood.

“I… I meant…” She’s stuttering, voice failing her the longer his honey brown eyes are staring into hers.  “You know what I meant” She finishes the thought quietly, barely under her breath.

He softens, and then melts before her.  His hands squeeze her with the smallest amount of force, barely there, but enough for her to feel it.

She’s blushing, her cheeks a rosy shade of pink that’s so lovely he almost can’t stand it.  He leans towards her, watching as her eyes grow a little rounder upon the close proximity.

“(y/n),” He murmurs, so soft she wouldn’t have caught it if the syllables of her name didn’t brush against her skin with his breaths.  “I need you to tell me, alright? Because-” He pauses, his eyes flickering between hers for a moment, and she swears they dart down to her lips before raising to her eyes again.  “- because I need to know I’m not seeing things and- and making them up before I do something stupid that I can’t take ba-” 

“How stupid?” She cuts him off, pressing closer, as if it could get her an answer faster.  It might work, because she barely finishes the question before he’s replying.

“Very stupid” He breathes through the words, like it pained him to even say them.

The faintest of laughs fall from her lips, before she tilts her head and gazes up at him fondly.

“Who knew you thought twice about stupid things before you did them?” She teased.  It’s so soft, so sweet, that he cracks a smile.  It washes away all of his nerves, and his stupid idea doesn’t seem so stupid anymore.

Tugging on her hands, he pulls her closer to him, until she’s practically tripping into his chest, but he doesn’t care when they collide unceremoniously.  He’s already letting go of her hands so that she can brace them against his shoulders, steadying herself, and just in time before he’s cupping her face in his hands and slamming his lips against hers.

As sudden as the kiss is, (y/n) meets him with the fervor of a long awaited passion.  Her hands squeeze his shoulders, latching probably too tight but if it hurts he shows no sign of pain.

His lips are so soft, despite being chapped and his kisses being rushed, they were so gentle against hers that she could feel her knees wobbling.  He’d probably tease her for it later, but right now she couldn’t care.

He kisses her like they only have a limited amount of time.  As if they’re not at the entryway to their shared apartment.  His hands slide from her cheeks to the sides of her head, into her hair, holding onto her with a firm grip- as if she’ll slip away from him at any moment.

But the truth was, this was heaven.  She could stand here and kiss him and be kissed by him for hours.  Days, even.

He only pulls away from her when his body has him gasping for air, chest heaving, lips hanging open as he pants, she has to giggle just a little bit at his desperation.  Even if she matched it as well.

Their noses are still pressed together, and their hands remained latched onto one another as they both caught their breath.  Ino shares her laughter once the haze over his mind clears up and the reality of what they just did sinks in.

“So,” He mumbles, heavy eyes finding hers, making her fight the urge to steal another kiss.  “Stupid?” 

With a smile she tries to bite back, she shakes her head at him.

“No,” She murmurs back.  “Not stupid” 

Dinner is forgotten on the counter, going cold the longer it remains that way.  

Ino beats her to another kiss.  It feels like ages as they stand at the door embracing one another, kissing in between fits of giggles and sweet confessions, and kissing just to kiss.

He understood exactly what she meant when she’d said she was taken.  Because, well, he sort of was too.  Long before now.  His heart was stolen the day she responded to his ad, and with it their fates sealed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s better than i ever even knew // they say that the world was built for two // only worth living if somebody is loving you // and baby now you do. ]

[colourstreakgryffin]

hii! could u write headcanons of Alastor x Male (preferly) Overlord Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is rough? and since Alastor loves dancing and singing, maybe Reader is shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings?

You know what! I am gonna kill two birds with one stone and make us an Ink Demon! Overlord. So, we’re basically like Baby Bendy from the second BATIM game. Don’t know it? Look it up. One side is harmless and adorable and the other side is monstrous and vicious— however. Here, it’ll just be causal demon form than evil demonic Ink Demon form! Anyway. Let’s goooo. I’ve been doing a lot of GN for Alastor, this time we got a man! I don’t know if you want us to be romantic, I am just gonna guess platonic

Alastor- Follow Me

You look pretty cute and friendly. Black and white, cartoony, with adorable stereotypical demon features like arch-like horns and a long-thin tipped tail. Most importantly, your entire body is made of ink. Only your clothing is touchable, otherwise, your ‘skin’ is so soft, liquidity and stains anything it touches. For that reason and one more, you harden yourself up and avoid conversation

Alastor, the Radio Demon, is not a fan of making friends with men. He prefers women, they are just easier to talk to. However, you’re not as vile and unlikeable as most men with your personality is. You’re the strict, stern, responsible one of the Overlords, ordering the other Overlords to pay attention to Camilla Carmine

Alastor doesn’t know why but he finds you interesting

Your uncontrollable Ink Demon side is extremely violent and merciless so you had to develop a thick shell, in order to make sure nothing can make it trigger at random. It’s too much of a risk, hence why you behave in the way you do. It’s a self-defence mechanism and it’s a protection method to everybody else around too

Alastor doesn’t even care that you’re untouchable. He will touch you anyway, getting annoyed by the black ink forming your body in a in-fact, solid fashion, getting onto his sleeves or hand but he ignores it to converse with you

Alastor also ignores the gruff warnings you give out when he approaches you. That you’re dangerous and that the Ink Beast will try rip him to pieces if it’s let out. If anybody thinks Alastor would be scared of the Ink Demon, they have another thing coming. He’d actually like to face off this Ink Beast one day

It looks like, to every other Overlord, that Alastor is talking to a brick wall when he talks to you. Since you’re not responding not even looking at him, just focusing on Camilla and her statements with the most bland and rough expression, not a single hint of a grin. You’re the opposite of Alastor and yet, he’d like to befriend you

Alastor keeps trying and trying without even halting. He’s quite the persistent man and when he wants to befriend somebody, he won’t stop until he gets what he desires and at this moment, it’s to make friends with you, rather you shut him down and bark at him to stay away

Alastor finds your overall appearance cute. You look like you were drawn for a kids cartoon in the early 19th century. Possibly around his own time of the 1920s-1930s. You’re bendy and mendable, you defy all laws of logic and have cartoon physics on your side. You’re like if a kids cartoon demon tried to be a big bad mafia boss and ruled a part of Hell itself, and he isn’t filtered when it comes to this opinion. He straight up tells you all that

Alastor, overtime, ends up succeeding like the little I don’t take no for a answer brat he is in getting you to agree in joining him out to the Hazbin Hotel and accompanying him for a nice little tour. Throughout the tour, he notices that some music in the Lobby is blasting and without even hesitating, he drags you over to join him into a dance

“Come, my dear sir. Let us dance this tension away!” Alastor chimes out rather excited, immediately leading you into a half-messy dance performance with him as the head. You just stumble along, slightly gritting your fangs in discomfort but it won’t be acknowledged by Alastor in the slightest. All he cares about is putting a smile on your face

Alastor laughs warmly as you attempt to try keep up with him during this dance he had dragged you into. You’re clearly quite timid, not enjoying the way the Deer Overlord dances and sings but you either don’t care enough to shut him up or you are too kind to try shut him up

Alastor likes to tease you about your behaviour and your looks. He isn’t frightened or intimidated at all by your beast side and you’re too colourless and squishy to be scary, he does actually view you as a wonderful friend. Even whilst you’re cold and dismissive, he can get you to acknowledge him and be polite to him so it’s a win for Alastor in the end

It’s been a long time since Alastor got a male friend so he can be more crude and snarky with you, without actually needing to be sensitive, like with his women friends

“My good fellow. You don’t need to act so broody. Smile now, you’re safe and whatever you are worried about, it’s not going to do anything to you or me or anybody in this Hotel”

[phoenixblair666]

It Only Takes One Second: A Logan Howlett X Fem!Reader Story

This story takes place in the X-Men trilogy. It's a romance between Logan and Fem!Reader, where the reader goes through a traumatic experience that allows her mutant powers to emerge. She goes to Xavier's school in search of sanctuary but finds Logan instead. When He helps her learn how to use and control her powers, he creates a valuable new member of the X-Men, but what started as helping a new recruit find their footing, turns into a blossoming romance.

Authors Note: This story will be in multiple parts. As of now how many parts, is to be determined. Feel free to ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Enjoy! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Word Count: 1,326

Reading Time Approximately: 5 Minutes

WARNINGS: Mentions of Traumatic experiences (Car crash), Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Nightmares, Fluff

(Part: 2) Nightmares

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

Walking into the school left you with a peculiar feeling, almost a sense of calmness. The school was old and worn, but comfortable as you entered the entrance doors, the man you had just met following close behind. The large room was empty, with no students wandering the hallways. Just a room with a set of stairs that split in the middle leading up on either side.

The sound of a small motor echoed through the room, quickly catching your attention. As you crank your neck to the right, you are greeted with a large smile and crinkled eyes. A friendly-looking gentleman rolled towards you in an electric wheelchair, his clothes displayed a professional appearance, a simple suit, and tie. He is bald and slightly aged, maybe in his 50's or 60's.

He watches your eyes and without speaking you hear his voice. He was speaking directly to you in your mind, a private conversation, leaving out the first man who welcomed you in. "Hello, (Y/N). Welcome to the school for the gifted. I've been waiting for your arrival, and I'm delighted to see that you made it here safely." Your eyebrows furrow together as you give the man a strange look mixed with intrigue and fear. 'How in the hell is he in my mind' you think to yourself, jumping when he inevitably replies. "I am a telepath, my dear. I can hear your thoughts just the same as I allow you to hear mine. You see, every person here has a unique gift. Mine just happens to be telepathy. My friend over here, Logan, can grow a set of claws from his knuckles and has an astonishing ability to regenerate." He nods toward the man you now know as Logan.

Logan shakes his head and scoffs, realizing the internal conversation has mentioned him. "You know, professor, you could introduce people with real words. Just regular talking is an option that most prefer." He smirks at you, waiting for a response that he can hear. The professor looks between the both of you, giving a gentle smile. "Well then, (Y/N), this is Logan, Logan, (Y/N). And since you are so interested in the conversation, my boy, I am tasking you with assisting our dear (Y/N) in finding a room." Once again Logan scoffs at the older gentleman. His gruff exterior seems to match his personality just the same. "I've got things to do. I was just in the middle of something very important, world-saving even." The professor watches Logan intently, inserting himself into his mind. "Whatever it is can wait. Help her now, please." You watch both of them have their silent exchange before Logan sighs and turns to you.

The professor rolls his chair towards you, gently taking your hands into his. "Take your time settling in, my dear. Logan will give you a tour of the school. When you're ready, please join me in my study and we will discuss everything that's on your mind." You softly smile down at him, feeling safe from his endearing approach. You whisper a quiet, "Thank you." before he rolls down the hallway. You turn to face Logan and that feeling of safety quickly dissipates under his stern eyes. He takes a few large strides toward you, making your heart race, but he only brushes passed you. He turns around, watching you stand completely still. "You coming, bub?" You gather your bearings and give him a subtle nod before following suit.

The day goes by with little words shared between Logan and you. He guided you through the halls, showing you where you would be staying, then the kitchen, the gardens, and finally the training center. At the end of the long hallway was a large circular metal door with an X across its front. He told you the room was called Cerebro and that it was strictly off-limits to anyone but the professor. You didn't question him and silently followed along. He left you by your bedroom door when he had finished the tour. His eyes slyly glanced back while he rounded the corner, completely unnoticed by you as you entered your bedroom, throwing yourself on the twin-sized bed.

You breathed in deeply while you lay face down on the mattress. Dust and the smell of oak filled your nose while a hint of something else you couldn't put your finger on mingled with the scents. Your eyes began to feel heavy, after all, you had endured a long tiring, journey to make it here. And for the first time in weeks, you felt nothing. Nothing at all. You welcomed the feeling as it began to lull you into a gentle sleep, deep rhythmic breaths turned into soft snores as you finally rest.

As you slept, fleeting images formed in your mind. Your car falls further and further, water flooding your mouth and nose as you gasp for air. You could feel your body being thrashed around as rigid rocks tore through your flesh while the merciless waters pulled you under. You scream, only for them to be muffled by water filling your lungs, leaving you close to death as you suffocate.

And then you wake up.

You shoot up from the bed, still screaming as you panic from the nightmare. A sheen layer of sweat coats your skin, making your hair stick to your forehead, while your breathing is labored as you try to ground yourself in the real world. The world where the traumatic experience had become something of the past, and you came out alive and well. As you continue to try to comfort yourself, you don't notice the whirlwind of air blowing through your hair and on your skin. Tears begin to break from your eyes as you cradle your knees into your chest, resting your head on them. The wind begins to harshen as you sob, it shakes your bedframe and the dresser on the other side of the room, making them scrape across the old floorboards.

Your door flings open. Its Logan. He covers his face in the crook of his arm, while the winds lash at him relentlessly. He takes heavy steps forward, combating the force that tries to push him back. When he finally approaches you, he places his large hands on your shoulders, pulling you towards him. "(Y/N)!" he practically yells your name, trying to pull you from your current state, but it's muffled by the aggressive whooshing of air. He shakes you, finally able to make contact. As your eyes meet him, you can't see his face through the thick tears that pool in them. "(Y/N), you're okay! Hey, Hey I'm here, you're okay."

The winds begin to slow as you hear his voice. You look down at your hands, seeing them turn white as they ball into tight fists. You let out one last strangled sob and then everything goes quiet. The room is calm, as the furniture halts in its place. Logan continues, to hold your shoulders, watching your face intently. Your body feels exhausted and you're lightheaded by the end of everything, causing you to collapse into his arms. He catches you, gently pushing you up so that he can meet your eyes. "(Y/N), what happened?" he asks, searching your face. Once again, tears begin to break from your eyes, staining your cheeks as they drip onto his forearm.

"I'm sorry." you choke, looking down and resisting his heavy eye contact. "I'm so sorry. I had a nightmare." Logan frowns, and deep creases begin to form on his forehead as he debates his next moves. He was definitely no stranger to nightmares, in fact, he was well accustomed to them. You feel a lump form in your throat, preparing yourself for his imminent scolding, but it never comes. He hangs onto you as he racks his brain for what he wants to say. He finally settles on comforting you through this time of need. "Y'know, I have nightmares too."

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

Previous | Part 3: Adamantium

Tag List:

@badbishsblog

[atlasdoe]

THE HOGWARTS CLASS OF 1978 - pt 20

JAMES POTTER

Name - James Potter

Blood status - Purebloood

Date of birth - 27th March 1960

House - Gryffindor

Academic achievements - Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Quidditch captain, Headboy

He was killed by Voldemort trying to protect his wife and son after they were betrayed by their secret keeper

Cannon

Both of his parents were elderly even by wizarding standards

Having been conceived so late in his parents lives, he was raised in a doting household with little material limits and pampered a great deal. Hence, it was no surprise that he's grew to be proud. arrogant and boastful but deep down still a good person

At some point during his school years, James took a photo of Hogwarts Castle at sunset and gave it to Remus

At the age of sixteen James' parents allowed Sirius to move in with them so he could escape his family

Both of James' parents attended his and Lilys wedding

In around 1977 he and Sirius were involved in a motorbike chase with two Muggle policemen. Although the chase started off as a bit of fun, it turned more serious when the pair were attacked by three men on broomsticks

He and Lily defied Voldemort three time

At some point between 1979 and 1980 James' parents died of Dragon Pox and he inherited the cast Potter family fortune from them which enabled him to comfortably support his family without the need for a paying job

James also used his wealth to support a Remus who was en employed due to his status as a werewolf

Headcanons

Pansexual

Growing up, whenever his parents had to go to work or out with their friends they would drop them off at the ice cream shop where Florean Fortescue would watch him for the day as he also took care of Alice. Barty Crouch Jrs parents also did the same

Usually, when they were really young theyd only just sit in a booth together and colour and play hide and seek in the shop (which theyd always get in trouble for) and as they got older theyd be allowed to go around Diagon Alley but only if they stuck together and would stick to the village only. (And theyd have like everyone there keeping an eye on them because Alices father is well known and liked so nobody would let anything bad happen to them anyways.)

* Alice goes to Hogwarts first and when she comes back she is telling stories upon stories about school to the point where James and Barty would tease her about always talking about Hogwarts and nothing else.

* James goes next and gets sorted into Gryffindor along with Alice. While at Hogwarts Alice watched James like a hawk for his first few weeks, she really was the older sister he never had and she was so excited to share Hogwarts with him. She gave him a tour and told him everything about everyone and wanted to know all of his thoughts

* When Barty joined he was sorted into Slytherin and made it his mission to get James and Alice to leave him alone. He wanted to fit in and he had no trouble in doing so. He made sure that he acted his worse around James and Alice and no matter how hard they tried they weren't getting him to change

* Alice gave up on Barty before James did

* James became friends with Dorcas Meadows when they were in their fourth year during a game of seven minuets in heaven

* James had wanted to befriend Dorcas for a while, mostly because she was Remus’ step sister and James thought they would get on most

* Dorcas was hesitant to be his friend at first because of not only the history and common knowledge f James hating all Slytherins but just because she didnt think they would be good friends, but she did accepted his hand of friendship

* That night they came up with three ruled for their friendship also 1) No house slander off of the Quidditch pitch 2) No telling on each other to Remus and 3) Only say "I love you" if its for a dramatic goodbye

* Since that day James and Dorcas began to build a bond. One that went further than house colours and rivalry. From the friendly nods that they gave each other in the corridor to the countless times that Slughorn now had to call them out for talking too much. Something had sparked between the two that only grew into a friendship that neither of them could ever deny

While Lily and James were in hiding James got a letter from Dorcas which she sighed off with "I love you" James knew what it meant but couldn't do anything since he was in hiding

He was a little bit pissed off that he didn't make Prefect in his year since he thought he had it in the bag. He started working more in his academics after that and improved so much that he became Head Boy

While Quidditch captain he chose who was on the team based on his friends. He told everyone that every position was up for grabs but there was no universe where he wasn't having Sirius, Alice, Frank and Mary on the team

Everyone was his friend but he was not everyone's friend. There was only a few people who James truly cared about

Those people were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Alice Fortescue, and Frank Longbottom

His first crush was Patricia Rakepick who was in her fifth year when his was in his first

He secretly dated Regulus Black during his fifth year and Regulus' fourth. The only people who knew was Sirius, Alice and Pandora Ollivander. James and Regulus had an agreement that James could tell Sirius if Regulus could tell Pandora. Alice found out about them after walking in on them kissing

Regulus started ignoring James after Sirius ran away because he was mad at James for letting Sirius stay with him. James attempted to get Regulus to talk to him but gave up completely when rumors that Regulus had joined the Death Eaters started going around the school

He and Lily got together during the summer before their seventh year

When James and Lily got married they went all out. They had a wedding weekend in the country side and has a massive reception that everyone they knew was invited to

[ghostboneswrites2]

Doe Eyes || Ch.1 - Woodbury

Overview: You (y/n) are taken captive by the Governor and recruited as one of his fiercest soldiers. As you slowly uncover the atrocities committed behind the walls of Woodbury and at the hands of the Governor himself, your already questionable loyalty begins to dwindle. When Woodbury falls, your only friend (a sassy, formerly rich farmer's daughter type named Brandy) decides to take the offer from the rival group to join them at their secure home in a prison. Despite your apprehensiveness -- and your preference to be out on your own -- you decide to tag along with your friend and seek refuge with Rick's group. You become a valuable, able-bodied asset to them, and that's when a certain crossbow slinging southerner becomes a part of your life.

Story begins in S3 and ends when Aaron finds the group to take them to Alexandria. It is mostly canon compliant. Lots of canonical dialogue. This story is finished. There is one OC: Brandy

18+ MDNI || Warnings: Story contains TWD typical violence, profanity, deaths of major and minor characters, gore, etc etc.

Chapter list

        "Well, so far, so good, except the dehydration. I'm going to give you these electrolyte powders. Drink them twice a day in a glass of water, and make sure to drink plenty more in between." The doctor lady told you, handing you six slender packets. "Someone will be in to show you around."

        With that, she walked out of the room and you just sat there, stunned. A doctor? In today's world? Where the hell were you? Maybe you were dead and this was some kind of strange DMT trip before your lights went out for good.

        The door opened and in walked a tall man with a fake smile. He was the type to work at a law firm or something. 

        "Good afternoon." He greeted cordially. "Name's Philip. Most people just call me Governor."

        "Governor?" You snorted. "Like 'ello gov-nah'?" You joked, mimicking a sad excuse for a British accent.

        "Funny." He chuckled, but something told you it wasn't actually that amusing. "Come on. I'll show you around, then I'll take you to where you'll be staying."

        "Staying? I don't know about that. I was doing alright on my own." 

        "Alright?" He considered your words for a moment, slowly pacing his way toward you. "Wouldn't you rather be doing well? Great, even? Just let me show you around, give you a place to stay for a day or two, and then if you still want to go, fine. We'll send you off, maybe give you some supplies to get you started."

        "What about my weapons?" You inquired. When they took you, you had a .38 and a crowbar. You'd become pretty efficient in the arts of melee since the world fell to shit.

        "Of course. You can have 'em, and we'll even give you a box of ammunition for that pretty piece of yours. It's nice, by the way. Where'd you get it?"

        "Oh, I got it when I got my first place on my own." You shrugged. "You know, wasn't in the best area and all."

        "Understandable." He nodded, showing off that eerily friendly grin of his. "Good thing you had it."

----

        "So, what do you think?" He asked. He'd just given you a quick tour of the town. Woodbury, he called it.

        "It's real cute. Never seen anything like it." You admitted.

        "No different than any other little town in the south." He chuckled.         

        "The walls, I mean." You clarified. "The armed guards. So many people. How'd you do it?"

        "Well, Rome wasn't built in a day." He shrugged, feigning humility.

        "It also wasn't built in a world infested with flesh-starved freaks." You retorted. His eyes narrowed. He was growing tired of your observations and the way you questioned everything. It threatened him, really. But he'd seen the way you fought out there. They'd been watching you for a few days, Philip and Merle and whatever goons they'd bring along for the day. They watched you fight two grown men off as they tried to raid your supplies and probably yourself. You took down the biters with ease, one swift blow to the side of the head, and another down on top. You were quick and sneaky. You made it look effortless. You had survival down to a science, which was either a threat or an asset. He hadn't decided. 

        He forced a smile that more closely resembled a sneer. 

        "I'm sure you've got loads of questions. You're a smart gal. However, I have some things that need attending, and you still haven't been shown to your place." 

        "What, like my own house?" You furrowed you eyebrows. He looked around.

        "You see any houses around here? C'mon, it's in here." He said as he led you inside the building you two had stopped in front of. It was a small apartment building it seemed, maybe twelve apartments total, if that. Yours was on the second floor. It was small, but it had everything anyone could need. "There's some food in the kitchen, and running water. Come find me if you need anything. Feel free to wander and make friends." 

----

        When you'd been at Woodbury for a few days, the Governor had cornered you, asking you to make a decision, because anyone who stayed had a job to do, and if you were going to leave, it needed to be soon so not to use up any more valuable supplies. You told him you'd stay, but he seemed skeptical all of a sudden, asking what value you had to offer. Of course, you told him about the only skill you had in this new world. You were a fighter. He seemed to like that response. He assigned you to the wall at first, then he started bringing you on runs.

        That was weeks ago. Just recently you guys brought in two women, Michonne and Andrea. They made it clear they weren't sticking around, so the Governor gave them the same offer he gave you; chill out for a few days then be on their way.

        Andrea eventually decided to stay but Michonne wanted no part of it. Thing was, Philip never intended on letting them leave alive. You and Merle were tasked with killing her. She got away from Merle, and you let her. The two of you had decided to just tell him she was dead and be done with it. Not like she had much of a chance up against their paramilitary militia anyways. That was when you truly lost any trust for Woodbury. The benevolent ruler façade was already less than believable, and the hit on Michonne did nothing but prove your suspicions. 

        Really, the only  upside to any of this was that for the first time since everyone you knew was eaten alive -- or doing the eating -- you made a friend. Brandy was a tan, dirty blonde, supermodel of a woman. She grew up on a very profitable farm. A plantation, really. She was your typical southern belle, or as she would call it, a 'Georgia Peach.' She was sassy and classy and everything in between. She was probably the only person in the world that still wore mascara and lip gloss and carried a purse. You were drinking with her at her place that night.

        "So, what did you do, anyways? Before all this?" She asked, pouring another glass of wine. 

        "Honestly?" You giggled. "I was a clerk at a pawnshop."

        "Wow, a real classy place, I bet." She joked. You rolled your eyes. 

        "Oh, yeah. The tweakers trying to pawn their decade old VHS players for a sack was real classy."

        "I didn't have a job." She admitted as she poured you a glass. "Daddy pretty much gave me whatever. Paid for my college classes." She lamented. "I had a real good life."

        "That's good." You smiled. "Mine wasn't so bad, but I definitely lacked in the rich dad department."

        "Yeah, well, I'm sure you got a lot more life experience than I could ever dream of. I used to wish I could just live like a normal girl sometimes. Life with a silver spoon ain't all it's cracked up to be, you know?"

        "Oh, yeah. I'm sure that was real tough." You snorted.

        "Only when I wanted a boyfriend who wasn't studying to be a doctor or a lawyer." She giggled. "Or that one time they caught me smokin' pot with my friends in high school."

        "Pot?" You raised your eyebrows. "My, my. A rebel, I see."

        "Something like that, yeah." She nodded.

        "Got any pot now?" You wondered. She laughed.

        "No but if you find any, let me know." 

        "So, what's up around here?" You asked, breaking away from the casual banter. She gave you a confused look. "I mean, like, how come nobody gets to leave this place?"

        "Why would anyone want to?" She scoffed. When she realized you were serious, her smiled dropped. "What do you mean? We're free to go whenever we want. Nobody ever wants to, though."

        "I don't know about that." You mumbled.

        "What are you on about?" She asked warily.

        "Look, you cant tell anyone." You said, growing more serious as you leaned forward on the table where she sat across from you. "That girl Michonne, she left. Governor sent me and Merle after her."

        "What, to bring her back? I thought you said nobody gets to leave?" Brandy tilted her head.

        "That's what I'm saying. He sent us to kill her." You whispered.

        "You killed her?" She gasped.

        "No no no no!" You shook your head and waved your hands. "She got away and I let her."

        "Well why the hell would he send y'all after her? What did she do?"

        "Nothing, man." You shook your head. "Not a damn thing. She just didn't want to stay. I don't get it."

[braceletofteeth]

Highschool/or college AU where Moonjo and Jongwoo are sitting at different tables across the cafe, completely alone (despite how packed it is), Moonjo keeps staring at Jongwoo, Jongwoo is alternating from looking at his book to looking up and narrowing his eyes at Moonjo... once Jongwoo starts to look angry, Moonjo smiles in endearment

The rest of the school (or the other og characters) just watch this daily interaction with varying distinct reactions

(srry, your post made me think of this loll)

[[One time Jongwoo throws his book down angrily and goes up to Moonjo but Moonjo is already meeting him halfway, everyone holds their breath waiting for a fight or- or something, because something is wrong with these young men. And to be fair, (Jongwoo looks like he's going to throw a punch.) But Moonjo is all casual with his hands in his pocket- which looks like a foreign movement from him like a doll, inhuman- and he just asks when they meet, "how's your book going, darling?" And Jongwoo sighs long suffering and, still slightly angry as he says, "you would know, you bastard." it's sort of soft too though and very familiar, and everyone is just ????]] rip.

(It's been a while, so, in case you'd like a refresher, this was the post that originally inspired you and I had to turn this blog upside down to find)

Ok, first of all, I love this idea of Jongwoo and Moonjo being at a place where a lot of people can observe their behavior (and get their conclusions of it). I got a little lost in the scenario you created, with the two of them sitting by themselves at the cafeteria, but directly opposite each other, on each other's sight, every day. Like... Is that Moonjo's fault? Does he pick his table according to where Jongwoo is sitting? What did Jongwoo do when he noticed? Did he try changing tables, to see if Moonjo would follow? What kind of relationship do they have? Does Moonjo follow him to other places, just to stare at him too? Is what they have casual enough that Jongwoo won't fight him on it, but not enough that he'll let Moonjo sit at his table?

I feel like I'm one of those students around them, because I too am thinking “the hell is going on here...? 👀”

And speaking about the others!! If you don't mind, I'd like to take a little tour through their tables, because I'm curious about their thoughts on this...

Let's see. I'm putting Junghwa and Seokyoon at the same table, with other unnamed friends around them, because they're friendly people. Seokyoon came from the countryside, and he had some trouble getting adjusted and being accepted in the beginning—for talking too much and without filter—but Junghwa took him under her wing. At school, she's considered an angel of sorts, because she's the first to offer help when someone is going through something.

One of those people had been Yoon Jongwoo. There were a few boys that liked to pick on him because he preferred to stick to himself and was short-tempered; therefore, an easy target. Jongwoo had got in trouble a couple times, because there was no one to take his side. The other boys got each other's backs, Jongwoo was alone; until Junghwa intervened, and spoke up for him. Since then, they are not as close as to be called friends, but there's mutual respect for each other.

Seokyoon is a little closer to him than that. Thanks to his initiative, Jongwoo had opened up to him. He was considered a good talking partner by Jongwoo because he fills the free space when Jongwoo doesn't feel like talking, and listens without judgment when he wants to complain about something that is eating at him. So Jongwoo is grateful, and fond of him.

But both Seokyoon and Junghwa know that lunch time is sacred, and every day, Jongwoo will be over at his own table, no matter how much they (Seokyoon) ask him to join them. Jongwoo uses lunchtime to read, and there are too many people at their table. He doesn't want to bother them, and most importantly, he doesn't want them to bother him. It's just better this way.

They have already noticed Moonjo, of course. There's hardly anyone who hasn't. He's the only other student to keep a whole table to himself, and all he does on lunchtime is look at Jongwoo. (Sometimes he brings an apple, but usually leaves it unfinished.)

He's one of the few orphan teens who go to that school because it's the closest to the city's orphanage. But he's also different from them. The others walk in groups, sticking to each other. They make big plates at lunchtime, like they don't get enough to eat at home. They also don't seem to care much about the school's dress code; while Moonjo's clothes are always pristine clean, shirt all buttoned up.

It's hard to tell if they have estranged him, or if he has estranged them.

Either way, be it another orphan like him or any of the others, Seo Moonjo doesn't seem to be friends with anybody. Except, perhaps, the teachers. The teachers adore him. He's older than Junghwa and Seokyoon, so they never had classes with him, but they have heard about it. The teachers made Moonjo class president. All the other students in his class hated that, but they couldn't do anything about it, because as far as the teachers were concerned, Moonjo was the most perfect, well-spoken, well-mannered young man.

He was just an insufferable asshole to everyone else.

Knowing that, Junghwa and Seokyoon worry. What would a guy like that want with Jongwoo? Surely, not anything good...? They are not even from the same year, and Jongwoo keeps to himself. Where would they have even met, talked, for Moonjo to show interest in what Jongwoo does at lunch?

Seokyoon brought it up directly with Jongwoo once, asking if he had noticed what he had decided to call “Seo Moonjo's suspicious and creepy behavior.” In response, Jongwoo had sighed, and talked at length about how annoying Moonjo is; but he didn't mention where they knew each other from, or why Moonjo seemed to be fixated on him. When Seokyoon offered his help (and Junghwa’s by default) to get rid of the guy, Jongwoo made a face, and said he would deal with it alone.

So here they are, for the past semester, waiting for either Jongwoo to “deal with it”, or to catch Moonjo doing something that they could report or call him out on—something morally wrong, instead of just unnerving.

And they are not the only ones interested in Moonjo's interest in Jongwoo.

A few tables over, Min Jieun is trying to take the right cues to laugh together with her friends, but today she keeps getting distracted by the sight of her ex-boyfriend... No, perhaps that's not the right term. They used to play as boyfriend and girlfriend, when they were kids. That was a long time ago. Then, they were good friends. After, high school started, and they split up for good, each following a different path.

Jieun wanted to be with the cool kids. She wanted to go to the shopping mall, to parties and concerts, and on trips to the beach. Jongwoo wanted to be with his books, in fantasy land. He hated her new friends, and her friends called him a weirdo. Jongwoo had always been over protective of her, too, and she had had enough of that. It was time she lived to her full potential, and she's been doing great since.

But that doesn't mean she's got bad feelings for Jongwoo now. Sometimes, when she sees him at school, she lets herself wonder how he's doing. This is one of these moments. Doesn't he ever get tired of these books? Why is he always alone? Oh, well, she thinks, looking in the opposite direction, maybe not totally alone.

The side profile of that sunbae is sharp, much like his eyes. Not now, resting on Jongwoo's face; but Jieun still remembers how cold they felt when they turned to her for the first time.

That day, she had said some things in the heat of the moment, and embarrassed herself during a conversation. She escaped from the awkwardness of it going to the school's rooftop, where she thought no one would be at. But when she opened the door, she discovered it already occupied.

Jongwoo and Moonjo were close to the edge, but not as close as they were to each other. Jongwoo was scowling and his mouth was open, the sentence he was saying cut short with Jieun's entrance. Moonjo still had the remains of a smile on his face when he turned his face to the door, but it slowly faded away when he saw her. He took just one look at Jongwoo, who had already taken two steps back, his head down, and in his next movement, when he met Jieun's eyes again, his gaze had turned glacial, sending a shiver down her spine.

At that moment, it didn't matter that it was her old friend by his side; she didn't feel safe to walk in with that guy there. Apologizing, she took a turn, and went straight back down.

She didn't think about them for a while—tried not to—, until one day during the last holidays.

Jongwoo and Jieun's mothers have been friends for decades, their houses facing each other, as well as Jongwoo and Jieun's windows. She knows Jongwoo's family leaves on trips to visit their relatives on holidays, and this year had been no different, as her mother had commented something on that week. For that reason, she was a bit surprised when, looking outside while listening to a friend on the phone, she saw a boy pass in front of Jongwoo's window. A boy that wasn't Jongwoo.

A boy much taller, with a gant look, much similar to the one who had sent her a murderous stare the last time she had seen him that close.

She waited there, unable to move, to see if he would cross the window again. But several minutes passed, and nothing of him. Alright then. Maybe she had imagined it. What would he be doing at Jongwoo's house anyway, especially when no one was there? Would Jongwoo have given him the key? Unlikely. The only plausible alternative that she could come up with, is that he could be a thief, and if Jongwoo's mother reported something missing later, Jieun would tell her what she saw. Or thought she saw.

But Jongwoo's mother reported nothing, supporting Jieun's most logical theory—there had been no one there. It was just her mind playing tricks on her.

She can't forget about it, though. She wonders what Jongwoo would say if she told him; if he would believe in her at all. She wonders if he would take Moonjo's side, or hers. She doesn't understand where they stand any more than she understood what was going on that day on the rooftop. Are they friends? Does Jongwoo trust him, or is he afraid? Does he even like him?

He doesn't even like him, thinks a boy at the other side of the cafeteria, at a table with other orphan boys, as it is him. This boy is Kihyuk, and he's still bitter about an event that occurred more than a few months back, when he tried to sit at Moonjo's table, but wasn't allowed to.

Moonjo had never minded that at dinner, when they were at home. In fact, Kihyuk was proud to say that, among all the kids, he is (was?) the one that least annoyed Moonjo. He isn't loud and he keeps himself as clean as he can. He's the one that takes it in his own hands to ensure the others won't bother Moonjo, will stay out of his way. Kihyuk is still relatively new at the orphanage, compared to the others, but he understands the hierarchy, and how important it is to be on Moonjo's good side. From the start, he has always been respectful and obedient.

But on that day, none of it mattered—Moonjo had looked at him like he was a specially nasty bug, that he'd take great pleasure in crushing under his shoe.

Crestfallen, he marched back to his usual table with the others and, mercilessly, they all took the piss on him. It was then that he learned about “Moonjo's Prayer Time”.

That's what the orphanage's director had called it, once the others had described his strange behavior back to her. Kihyuk didn't understand, at first, but watching Moonjo do the same thing, at the same hour, every day, religiously... He had to agree with them, to an extent.

But he still doesn't understand why. What does Moonjo do it for? Is he really praying? What is he praying for—that Jongwoo will look up at him? That he'll allow Moonjo to come over, like Kihyuk wishes Moonjo will let him?

He doesn't even like him, he thinks again, staring at Jongwoo just as intently as Moonjo, wasting away his lunchtime.

Far away from that table, there is a short boy with coconut hair and a broken nose, trying very hard not to look anywhere close to Yoon Jongwoo's general direction. He's Byeongmin, and he sits with the upper middle class kids—not because he's one of them, but because Han Jaeho is there, and he's got Byeongmin working under his thumb for the last three years.

They both study in the same class as Moonjo, and they both hate that fucker. In fact, no one in the whole world has hated, hates, or will hate Seo Moonjo as much Han Jaeho does, and the sentiment seems to be mutual, as Moonjo makes his life hell at every opportunity.

Jaeho is always looking for a way to break Moonjo, destroy his life, but there isn't much you can take away from a poor boy, who has no assets, no friends, and no family. He's also too smart, too handsome, and too cold to be made fun of. Had that not been enough, despite looking a bit scrawny, and sickly pale, he can hold himself in a fight too—Jaeho had found that out first-hand, and now he knows better. Not only is Moonjo strong, but he fights dirty, too. Dirtier than Jaeho himself.

But there has been one special card that he has been meaning to use. Because Jaeho knows, he just knows Moonjo is gay. He's gotta be, with the way he sits there looking at another boy every day. He's gotta be. Jaeho just needs concrete proof of it; once he gets it, Moonjo is done.

He's been telling Byeongmin that for months. They just need proof. If Byeongmin finds it for him, he'll take care of the rest.

That's how Byeongmin ended up at the library on a friday that the rest of the classes had been canceled for the day, looking for Jongwoo's “secret spot”. According to the rumor he'd heard, there was a space at the end of the library, hidden away by two bookshelves. Apparently, Jongwoo would occasionally move one of them, that stood before the space between the other bookshelf and the wall, and disappear inside with whatever book he's reading at the moment.

The person who spread the rumor mentioned that Moonjo had been seen doing the same thing.

So there was Byeongmin, walking on his tiptoes, hoping his footsteps wouldn't give him away, and the books on the shelves would cover most of his body, but still let him see what was happening on the inside.

Holding his breath, he saw Yoon Jongwoo on the floor, his back against the wall, and a heavy book on his lap. Next to him, there was an older boy that Byeongmin knew very well.

Moonjo's arms were crossed, his head was supported by the wall behind him, and his eyes were closed. Blinking in surprise, Byeongmin realized that he was probably asleep. He had never seen Moonjo sleep at school before. He looked like a different person.

Byeongmin took his phone out, letting the camera do its job. A picture and a short video. That would suffice.

He was putting it back down, when he noticed Jongwoo's eyes weren't fixed on the pages of the book anymore. He had lifted them up, and was watching Byeongmin from the other side of the bookshelf.

Still riding the high of his mission accomplished, Byeongmin stared back at him, not caring what Jongwoo thought now that he had already found what he had come for. He looked at Moonjo by his side, so frightening when he's awake, now sleeping like a stupid baby, completely unaware of what was coming his way—and he snorted, before turning his back on them and walking away.

He was almost home, past the sunset, when he felt a hand grab his shirt's collar, dragging him away and inside an abandoned building. He tried screaming, but the hand moved to his neck, cutting off his air supply. His eyes, still adjusting to the darkness inside the new area, were just focused enough now that he could recognize the face in front of him.

Yoon Jongwoo had pushed him to the ground and punched his face for what felt like a decade. They both felt it when his nose broke; but that just made him smash it harder, purposefully.

Belatedly, under all the pain, Byeongmin recognized that he should have kept that last sound—the last sound he made at the library, in Jongwoo's presence—to himself.

With his hands still shaking from the effort, and slippery with blood, Jongwoo had turned him over for his backpack, struggling with the zipper for a moment, then spilling all its content on the floor. He found his phone and quickly got rid of what wasn't Byeongmin's right to possess. Striking the phone on the space beside Byeongmin's head, he broke it for good measure.

Flinching away from the sound, Byeongmin tried to bring his hands up to protect his face, but Jongwoo was faster. He took his shirt on his fist and pulled Byeongmin's back from the ground, a finger coming between his eyes. He spoke for the first time since the assault had begun, and promised with a snarl that he'd break the rest of Byeongmin's body if he ever came after him or Seo Moonjo again.

Jongwoo didn't give Byeongmin time to answer, leaving him to fend for himself. Weeping, the boy found enough strength to support himself with his hands, lifting his upper body. He tried to think about what was he supposed to do next in a situation like this, but the pain made it hard to think. He wished he had passed out instead.

Before he could decide on his next move, however, a figure materialized from the shadows, walking in his direction. With horror, he realized it was his class president, very much awake, and not at all surprised by Byeongmin's condition. It seemed like he had been there the whole time, and it had never occurred to him that he could have stopped it from happening... or he simply hadn't wanted to.

Moonjo crouched down next to him, eyes on his level. His hand came in contact with Byeongmin's head, a gentle pressure.

Jongwoo is glorious, don't you think?, came a rhetorical, appreciative question, over the quiet sound of Byeongmin's sobs. The hand on his head closed, getting a grip of his hair. I need to show him how to quiet others better, though.

He brought out a tool from his pocket, forcing it past Byeongmin's lips.

The next thing he remembers is waking up at the hospital, with his face swollen all over. Purple eyes, a broken nose, and two teeth missing from the back of his mouth—roots and all. The police and his parents couldn't get a word out of him about the incident, and eventually he was sent back to school. To Jaeho's table, who got him into this mess, but didn't bother to investigate or question Byeongmin's absence and barely convincible explanation about what had happened to him.

So when again Jaeho says “we just need proof”, Byeongmin stabs his chicken soup with his spoon and doesn't say anything back. Doesn't even glance at the pair of freaks Jaeho is referring to.

He's found all the proof he needs.

—

Oh, wow 😀 Got a little carried away there... But I hope you don't mind me playing with this AU and extending it a little. I'd also like to apologize for taking so long to answer you *bowing all the way down*. This only took the past two nights to elaborate, in a sudden rush of creativity, but it's been almost three years of indecision on what to write here. I'm really sorry for that.

But I also believe you might still be around, so I'm wishing from the bottom of my heart that this will get to you and you will finally get to read your answer, Anon 🥹❤

[midnightfantasiez]

Invitation | Jacob Bae

SUMMARY: never would you have thought to have instantly clicked with the one and only idol Jacob Bae, within a short period. when he finally invites you to take a further step in your relationship with one another, how could you possibly refuse?

PAIRING: idol Jacob x afab! reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: french kissing, pet names, oral (afab! reader receiving), fingering (afab! reader receiving), p in v sex, protected sex (we cheered), man's doing it from behind

WORD COUNT: 2,354

A/N: @zzoguri this was written for you 😚 i hope you like it 🥺

It has been a couple of weeks since your mutual friends introduced you both to one another.

You were in your final years in college and had little to no connections to many boys in your life. You were the type to always hide in the library or the quiet reading rooms scattered throughout campus, wanting to avoid indulging in all of the parties or chaos around you. With that, you were definitely not a regular on the college’s party scene. Attending frat parties or clubs would be the last thing you want to do on a Friday night, choosing to snuggle up in bed with your favourite snacks and drinks while watching your favourite TV shows. 

Naturally, your friends were starting to worry about your love life—convinced that you wouldn’t be able to find someone even until graduation came in a year. Hence, they decided to be good samaritans and tried their best to find one that would suit your type to the best of their abilities. 

Your close group of friends knew how you’ve always had a soft spot for music, and it’s something that you have always been passionate about besides the current course you were taking in college. It was probably pure luck when one of your buddies was mutual friends with an actual idol from one of the most famous boy bands of the year.

Given your personality, she was convinced that you and Jacob Bae were a perfect match with one another. Thanks to her luck, she secured a few tickets for you to attend their ongoing concert—The Boyz 2nd World Tour: Zeneration. 

Wishing that she would finally shut up about meddling with your love life, you decided to give it a go and went to the first day of the concert. Unbeknownst to you, you start taking interest in the man himself. 

It was the way he presented himself on stage—the way his body moved according to the rhythm and vibe of each song perfectly, his harmonious voice that suited each of the songs from the setlist, not to mention the outfits he was given to wear (especially during the opening where he wore a see-through shirt with his hair all slicked back good lord). 

When you finally got to meet him in person backstage after the concert, he was a man you would fall for and would immediately be listed down in your “men whom I surprisingly approve of and will trust with the rest of my life” book.

He was so calm and friendly that he could break off the ice between you two even though you’ve just met, and it was how you were engaged in every conversation you’ve had with him. You definitely were a little upset when they had to call it a night as they had to prepare for the upcoming concerts for the rest of the week. But he managed to grab a few more tickets for you and your friends so that you could come again during the tour's encore and final day. 

Fast forward to the present day, you were at the backstage waiting for the rest of the members to arrive. It took about 10 minutes before all 11 members came down to thank all the staff and visit all the guests that had arrived to support them on their final day. It took a while for Jacob to finally make his way towards you, but when he did, he absolutely couldn’t leave your side in the slightest bit. 

Something in the air made both of you seemingly attracted to one another, even though you had just met for the second time. It was as if you both were drawn to each other, wanting to know more and deepen the relationship you both have created. 

He gently grabs hold of one of your hands into his, caressing it before opening his mouth to suggest the plans for the rest of the day. 

“Say, there is this really nice restaurant not too far from here that I occasionally dine in whenever I feel for a candlelight dinner. Care to join me for the night?” He asked in such a sweet way, how could you say no?

Without much hesitation, you quickly nodded your head before he made some arrangements to inform his managers and your friends that you both would make a quick dinner and that he would bring you back home safely by the end of the night. 

Seeing this as a sign, your friends immediately encouraged you to take up the offer, convinced that this would be the start of a spark to happen between you two. 

For the first time in a while, you actually agreed with your friends on this for once.

It was a rather fancy restaurant that had the Parisian vibes to it. You could tell how it would be a place where idols would occasionally indulge after a long day of work, especially when they have just finished a concert tour. 

Jacob, being the kind gentlemen that he was, ensured that you’ve always felt comfortable and would bring up a variety of topics to talk about—which you deeply appreciated because gradually, he was slowly pulling out from your bubble, getting you to open up to him more. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who showed interest in the other party. Otherwise, it would’ve been an awkward one-sided relationship. There was just something about you that drew in him, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was either. All he knew was that he was desperate to try to get to know you better, and eventually, he definitely thought about taking a step further in the relationship you both have now. 

The dinner went on smoothly and he offered to pay for the meal at the end, much to your disagreement. 

A gentleman should always pay on the first date, no? 

Those words lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

As you both exited the restaurant, he somehow volunteered to be your chauffeur, clearly wanting to keep you as long as he could to himself. 

“If you are free for the night, would you like to come over to my place?” 

“Woah, Jacob. Aren’t you taking this a little too far? What makes you think I’d return to your place that quickly?” You joked. 

“What if I said I have got the best liquor saved just for you, some good music to vibe to, a comfy sofa and a cosy atmosphere to indulge you for the night? Would you agree to my proposal?” 

Now that was tempting. Given both of your similar interests in music (and good liquor), it was very hard to reject the man’s offer. You knew that it should be a red flag for someone to invite you back to their comfort place that quickly, especially when you two are just friends at the moment, nothing else. 

But somehow, you just couldn’t turn down his offer. In fact, you wanted to know more about him too. 

In return, you smiled back at him while taking a step closer so that you were mere centimetres apart from each other’s faces. 

“That is a yes in my books.”

One thing led to another, and you both began feeling tipsy. And before you knew it, you were both kissing one another on the sofa. 

You were both finishing up the last drop of the liquor bottle that Jacob owned among his stash of wines and when you both looked into each other’s eyes, you knew that you were far too gone to even think rationally at this point. 

Jacob bent down his face to yours in slow motion, and within seconds you felt his hot mouth infused with the sweet wine he had just consumed earlier all over your mouth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he then slipped his hands down to the curve of your sides to rest on your hips as he drew you in. You didn’t expect how much of a prodigy he was with his tongue, casually slipping and wrapping itself onto yours. 

God, this whole session was causing you to lose your breath, your pants getting more visible as the minutes passed. Jacob noticed how much you enjoyed it and proposed a better idea. 

“Won’t you—crawl up in my bed—with me.” He asked in between the kisses. 

“What makes you—think that I would agree with that?” You asked while trying to catch your breath.

“For one, you would be cosy up in the sheets and I’ll make you feel good and care for you. Will you accept the invitation?” 

If you did, you already knew where this was going. Having sex when technically this was only your second time meeting one another? It would be absolute insanity. 

But you were already deep in this whole situation and ready to let loose for the night. 

“Show me what you’ve got then.” You challenged the male. 

Immediately, he carried you into his room and laid you down gently on his comfy sheets. He slowly undressed you, only leaving your underwear on as you laid your stomach down on the sheets. 

“Relax, baby. Let me take care of you, hmm?” 

Accepting his proposal, you laid your head on your arms and crossed them on the sheets.

Closing your eyes, you start to hear how he has walked behind you, undressing himself before slowly climbing onto the bed with you. 

Instantly, he bent down and began to fidget with your core, slowly rubbing it, earning a soft moan that escaped your mouth. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” 

You nodded your head and he knew he could proceed onwards with his care. He slowly increased his speed before finally coming into contact with his mouth upon your core, kissing and sucking them.

“Mmmh… yes… keep going, Jacob.” Your moans sounded so sweet to his ears, and that was when he knew his care was effective after all. It was then he decided to insert two of his fingers into your core while he continued to suck on it simultaneously. 

God, you were on cloud nine. It just felt so sickly good. 

“M-more… Jacob… please… don’t stop.” Purely on instinct, you decided to spread open your legs more to give him access to your entrance. And how you’d actually wish him to finger you deeper within. 

It went on for a few more minutes before you both knew you were about to reach your high. Jacob gives you the consent to cumming around his fingertips, and that was exactly what you did when you released your sweet love juice around his fingers. He takes them out from your core before placing them into his mouth, savouring them all without leaving a single drop. 

“God, you taste so f*cking good.” 

Just when you thought he was done, he opened up one of the drawers by his bedside to reveal a condom that he was about to place over his member. He asked you for your consent first to see if you were willing actually to do the deed with him. 

“What makes you think I would say no after you literally just made me cum?” 

He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

Once he was done adjusting his member to the entrance of your core, he slowly pushed in as he climbed further up onto your back so that he was hovering over you completely now. 

“God, Y/N. You’re so tight for me.” 

“Then do your magic and help me loosen up, sweetheart.” You whined, already wanting him to go fast on you. 

“Such an impatient one, aren’t you?” 

With your consent, he instantly picked up his speed and went as fast as you would’ve preferred. There is nothing about going slow and gradually picking up his pace whatsoever. He grabs both of your hips and pounds into you continuously, checking up on you ever so often by leaning in to kiss you on your forehead. 

You just looked so goddamn attractive to him at the moment. Your bareback, the way your long brown hair flowed down onto your back, and god, your moans. He swears he would definitely record them down so that he could listen to them all day at all times if he has to. 

Especially when he needs that motivation right before heading up on stage before a performance. 

 “J-Jacob… I’m cumming…” You mewled. 

“Cum for me then, baby. Do it with me.” He groaned.

With a few more powerful thrusts, you both reach your highs simultaneously and instantly release your juices together. He slowly pulls out his member from you and lays beside you as he reconnects his lips with yours. 

“Our connection is something else, don’t you think? Perhaps we are really meant for one another.” Jacob announced, making himself clear while he was still panting from the intense workout. 

“Gee, I had no idea you were this obsessed with me. What makes you think I’m special in your eyes?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to attend another day of the concert and take you out to dinner if I weren’t interested in you.”

You both burst out in laughter before reconnecting your lips once again. But it all came to a halt when you suddenly realised how you had forgotten to keep your friends updated about the night, surely you have to return home sooner or later-

“Why don’t you stay over for the night? At least stay with me till the sun rises.” Jacob proposed, which, to be fair, was valid—you were in no shape to be able to walk normally after that intense session you both have just done. 

“I can’t. My friends would worry about me.” 

“Hmm. I think I could fix that.” 

He gently takes your phone from you while having your consent to type out the message that he would send to the mutual friend you’ve both had.

🍐: change of plans, i’m keeping Y/N with me for the night. fyi, we’re more than just friends at this point. 

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @zzoguri (join my perm taglist here!)

[nightswithkookmin]

So like I didn't want to say anything about this but JM's Body guards are so selzy the way they protect him😌

Don't know why people are complaining they made him appear cold and unfriendly

I think you guys are too comfortable you forget these men are not supposed to be our friends.

He's not supposed to look friendly he's supposed to look better than you

If you think Jimin is supposed to cuddle up to you when he meets you on the streets you are nuts

Know your place

You are a nobody

His fart is worth more than your life

See him on the streets don't look him in the eye

Don't speak unless spoken to

Don't stand in his presence lie prostrate

Face down kiss the ground he walks on

No, he's not supposed to do what you want you are to do what HE WANTS

If he spits on you thank him and keep it pushing

No, you're not allowed to love yourself more than him

Yes take a bullet for him don't think twice

If he wants to fuxk you are unworthy to be fuxked

Front door back door you let him in

YOU CONFUSE HIM FOR AN INSTAGRAM MODEL AGAIN AND I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD ON MY PLATE

You guys are gonna pretend out of BTS he is not the mmember who receives constant death threats the most.

You think he is there to feel important, no he is there to make yall feel important.

He is not begging to be photographed and this is an attestation to that. Gone are the days when he took to the streets to beg people to attend his shows for free and look at how people acted like they were better than him NOW LOOK WHERE HE GOT YALL

WESTERN MEDIA WANNA ACT LIKE THEY THREW A DOG A BONE

THEY WANNA ACT LIKE THEY DOING BTS A FAVOR WRITING ABOUT THEM INVITING THEM TO SHOWS AND INTERVIEWS GIVING THEM A GRAMMY

FUCK YALL

AND I DON'T WANNA HEAR ANYONE COMPARE JIMIN TO HOBI. THEY DON'T HAVE THE SAME STRUGGLES THEY CAN'T HAVE THE SAME SUPPORT.

ONE WAS THE MAIN EVENT ONE WASN'T

FACE OF DIOR AT A DIOR EVENT MEANS HE HAS MORE TO DO BEHIND SCENES THAN JUST SHOW UP LOOKING PRETY ON A RED CARPET.

THERE'S THINGS TO SIGN. PEOPLE TO MEET. TOURS TO TAKE. MODELS TO GREET. PHOTO SHOOTS AND SHIT.

PLUS HOBI HAS HIS OWN SHTICK

I'M YOUR HOPE YOU'RE MY HOPE I'M JHOPE

THAT AINT JIMIN

DONT EXPECT THE MOST INTIMIDATING MEMBER OF BTS OFF CAM TO LOOK LIKE A GOOFBALL ON THE RED CARPET.

HE IS KIND HE IS GENTLE HE IS LOVELY SEXY CUTE BUT WILL SNAP YOU IN HALF WITH HIS PINKIE GET YOUR FACTS ABOUT HIM RIGHT

AND LEAVE THAT MAN THE FUXK ALONE

HE STAY WINNING

[wearingaberetinparis]

Fic Author Self-Rec

Thank you for tagging me @missgryffin and @kay-elle-cee! Those that know me, will recognise that I find it very difficult not to be critical of my own work, but I need to be proud of what I write more often, so this is good practice! (Also: how do you choose anyway? Every fic is my baby and there are so many memories attached to writing them.) Rules: When you get this, reply with your favourite fics that you've written. Then pass it on to fice other writers. Spread some self love.

Shout Out To My Ex (Series)

Phoenix Radio is going through a rough period with the arrival of the new and controversial Riddle Radio. Albus Dumbledore, founder of the country’s number one radio station, asks his team to get ready to rebrand. Gone are the days of family friendly radio, a show where two exes talk about where their relationship went wrong and deliver relationship advice live on air, named Shout Out To My Ex, is exactly what Phoenix Radio needs. Who better to co-host this show than Lily Evans and James Potter, two Phoenix Radio employees who absolutely despise each other, or do they? A Jily Modern AU inspired by Rachel Lynn Solomon’s "The Ex Talk". LINK HERE

ocean eyes (Series)

Lily Evans had been eleven when she and her family moved in next door to the Potters. It was the summer before she would start her year at Hogwarts, a prestigious school for gifted students. From their bedrooms, James and Lily witness each other’s highs and lows, watching the other grow as they go through life apart and yet very much together. A Jily Neighbours/Coming of Age AU LINK HERE

(Didn't I?) (Didn't I?) Didn't I See You Crying?

James Potter has fancied Mary Macdonald for as long as he can remember. Everything about her is practically perfect, except for – if he were being honest and he always liked to be – her choice in friends. For Mary’s best friend, Lily Evans, is a right shrew and, much to his dismay, the Head Girl to his Head Boy. Lily Evans had disliked James Potter with a passion after their first interaction on the Hogwarts Express. A dislike that turned into hate – never mind that she also has an infatuation going, but no one needs to know about that – as soon as he decided to make her life a living hell. Unfortunately for her, he also decided (a few years earlier) that her very best friend in the world was the worthy object of his affections. (Which was fine, really. She wasn't about to cry over it, for Godric's sake. She was a strong and independent young woman, thank you very much. And yes, perhaps she was a little in love, but it was all for nothing, so she had to keep calm and carry on.) Certainly, their complicated past would result in major disaster if common ground was not soon established. For the love of Merlin, though, why did either of them think it would be a good idea for Lily to help James woo Mary Macdonald? LINK HERE

The Very (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

"Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen) Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame. A Regency Jily AU. LINK HERE

Lily In The Sky With Diamonds

A series of interviews with the UK’s hottest band, The Marauders, and the singer-songwriter Lily Evans, conducted by Nymphadora Tonks, as they prepare for the UK Tour after the release of their album “Lily in the Sky with Diamonds”. Everyone worships The Marauders. Everyone loves Lily Evans. Together they make hearts bleed. Inspired by "Daisy Jones & The Six" by Taylor Jenkins Reid. LINK HERE

Tagging anyone that would like to do this, but @annabtg and @practicecourts as well. I'm sorry if you did this already. I was obviously MIA for a couple of days.

[beomcoups]

Food Wars (teaser)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, eventual smut, 18+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (more warnings will be in actual fic)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1455 (just for the teaser, fic will be longer)

𝐀𝐍: This fic is for the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 1 of the actual fic will be posted on July 21st. Thank you to everyone who helped me brainstorm ideas. I will tag everyone in the actual fic :)

You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are pissed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, said it. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make an executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.

It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap in the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you. 

You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to Executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you can plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom.  Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looked like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.

 You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie. You went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find. You cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her. 

You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.

“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it in there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”

Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. 

“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion. 

You need a fucking drink. 

Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog. 

“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.” 

For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”

Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.

“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning off your station to be ready for the customers set to come in later on. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug. 

“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke. 

You nod, grab a banana nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit.  “So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”

[ezamevolni]

Distinctions between Cute and Sus

I guess this is common sense but in the shipping realm, common sense is often MIA.

I'm deep into shipping so I've been around these waters quite a bit now and have noticed most so-called 'my ship is real' moments are just very, very cute. But definitively romantic? Nope.

Cute moments are totally ship-worthy but they are not significant as proof the two people are involved in a special relationship.

Exercise #1

The members are close to each other's families.

Jimin called out "Eommoni~" to Jk's mom and Jk's mom told Jimin "I love you!".

RM and Jin's family got together to watch Bangbangcon. RM and Jin's dads are great friends who hang out daily.

Jk often imitates Suga's dad and Suga said that his dad calls Jk gentle/softie.

Are Jikook, Namjin, Yoonkook in romantic relationships because their families are close?

Ans: Seventeen is in a polygamous marriage. Hoshi says 'hi' while eating galbi with Joshua's mom in LA.

Exercise #2

The members often hang out together in private.

Jikook and their Tokyo trip. Nuff said. Only two who went on a long distance trip together so far.

Vmin used to do long walks on the pier when they couldn't sleep during their Japan tours.

Taekook and their recent outings skiing, bowling, watching a musical.

Vope who went on a candlelit rooftop dinner date.

Sin who went biking and fishing during their long break in 2019.

Were Jikook, Vmin, Taekook, Vope, Sin all on romantic dates?

Ans: Let's just pretend for a second that friendly hangouts are a thing. Yes, even between two men. I know this can come as a shock to some but deep breathes, it's alright.

Exercise #3

The members love skinship.

[Insert X amount of hugs, kisses, massages, butt slaps.]

Are [all 21 BTS ship names] in a secret relationship?

Ans: Right, because the 21-ships orgy fan fictions you read on ao3 is but a glimpse into their open-mindedness and deviance.

To think I wrote the answer part before finding the example...and was spoon fed confirmation down in the comments thread 😭

Exercise #4

The members know private details about each other.

Jin knew when Jk took English or drum lessons.

V loved to show off Jhope's sleeping habits on variety shows.

RM knew Suga was going to see the dermatologist the next day after filming.

Jk knew V recently went to get nail care.

[insert X amount of instances they showed certain members their solo work before release.]

Are Jinkook, Vope, Namgi and Taekook (and more) accidentally revealing how much attention they pay to their partners?

Ans: Contrary to popular belief, the members still talk to each other after the cameras are cut.

Exercise #5

They look great together. In the group photo, the two of them stand out as 'that couple'.

[What's this? Top tier all-male group hides three couples and loner Sunshine cried asking 'Where's my other half?'] Read p9 for the full story

Are Vmin, Yoonkook, Namjin, Jikook, Taekook, Jihope, Jinkook, Minimoni using the chance to show off their relationships?

Ans: This is the very reason why tabloid mags and clickbait articles still have readers.

When you see your OTP interacting, that excitement and happiness is from the same place in your brain that activates when you get a sip of hot cocoa after coming inside from a raging blizzard. You find them cute, lovely, more of that please! But it's just that. Those moments show the chemistry, rapport or good relations between the two. It doesn't automatically support them as 'boyfriends/girlfriends'. It does not Define the relationship.

Jinkook have plenty of cute moments. Plenty. But those don't say 'They're dating'. I can show my friend a video of them hugging, smiling at each other, playing around, but I can't stop the video and ask "Now do you see how in love they are??" My non-army friend will think I've finally gone bananas from the internet. Lots of moments that I find cute about Jinkook fizzle to bits once I lift them out of the shipping realm. Very very squeal-inducing, but does not define them as a couple.

I gave so many counterexamples of what not to consider when trying to ship a 'real' couple. So what're the correct things to look for? Ha, if I had solid examples, I wouldn't still be floundering here on the internet. In the realm of shipping, the correct answer is: no single moment can prove that a ship is real. Shipping is fun but if you want to be serious about it and actually consider if the two people are dating irl secretly, guess what, it's detective time. If you don't have a recorded confession, well it's time to get down to the nitty gritty, start theorizing, find evidence and make your stand. It's work and effort now, not just appreciating the cute moments as they appear on your tl. Unfortunate I know.

Legend says there exists another kind that is more thought-provoking and nuanced. After seeing such instances, the correct reaction should contain a little bit of self-doubt, discomfort and a pinch of 'Let me rewind'. And the next thought following should be 'that can't be. I'm reading too much into it. They're just brothers.' And then somewhere down the line you might join me here. These are moments you spotted in the wild and not in a shipper edit. The moment has to be organic.

Of course, that goes for any ship at all about any two people on the planet. Who's to say whose instincts are right? ☺️

[uncovering-sumac]

I did it! I wrote my first article!

Although that means now people will read what I wrote… eek. Maybe I should have thought this through.

4 Bars You Should Know in Sumac, by Del Blaushild

Hello, Sumac! My name’s Del and I’m the new tourism writer in town. I never got to meet the last writer, Pat Davies, but I’ve been reading a lot of his articles, getting to know him just a little bit. For my first article I’ve taken one of his old pieces and updated it, revisiting his recommendations and adding a few of my own. Let’s get started!

1. Sprout’s

A controversial favorite on the corner of West and Maple, this bar and grill has held the award for Best Vegan Restaurant for three years in a row. When Pat visited after their first win, a crowd of plant-rights activists had been demonstrating outside for hours. “They’re upset because we’re not afraid to stick to our traditions,” the owner Dave said of the demonstrators. “They may not like it, but nothing’s ever gonna replace plants. Think of a veggie burger. The taste, the texture- no dry, flavorless hunk of meat can come close to that. Americans love plants, and that’s just the way it is.” Three years later, Dave seems to be right. Sprout’s still draws a healthy crop of locals, and curious visitors stop by for a chance to taste the controversial “Veggie Lover’s Pizza.” During my visit I didn’t see any protestors, but a few posters were taped up outside showing vegetables being diced and soybeans being pressed into tofu in graphic detail.

2. Rosencrantz & Guildensterns

Brother-sister duo Frank and Becca opened this Sumac mainstay ten years ago, hoping to create a place “where friends can get together, talk about books, and make weird art.” Their bar is a popular hangout for Sumac’s creative types, who donated the paintings hanging on the walls and have featured it as a location in countless short films. In his original article Pat wrote about the friendly people and spectacular taxidermy assortment, which are both worth a visit on their own, but I also want to shout out their music and poetry parties on the first Friday of the month. Attendees bring records and play them backwards, then everyone writes down what they hear and writes poems out of it. If you’re lucky, you may even see Acacia the cat on one of her weekly visits.

3. Ozzie’s

This bar’s location on the edge of Candor Lake attracts locals and tourists alike. Even in the dead of winter, patrons will sweep snow off the benches on the wide deck to enjoy the view into the steep basin of the lake. An affordable happy hour and weekly live music keep the bar bustling year-round, and the new owner is keeping it cleaner and safer than ever. Sumac’s lake-watching club also meets here. Founded when its members were young kids, this close-knit group of nature enthusiasts has recently started gaining new members due to its welcoming and relaxed attitude. The small group of retired men who made up the club when Pat visited has grown into a diverse group with members of all ages. I learned an amazing amount about freshwater fish while sitting with the group, and the bartender makes a mean margarita.

4. The Ellicott Inn

What list would be complete without Sumac’s oldest establishment? Built in 1810 by Nathaniel Ellicott, the inn has hosted figures such as Rosetta Douglass, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Kate Gleason, as well as countless Western New Yorkers visiting to take the waters of Candor Lake. On its first floor Gertie’s Tavern serves up historically accurate dishes from the town’s heyday, while the second and third floors still function as an inn. Go on the Sumac Haunted History tour and you’ll finish here, as the ghosts of Ellicott and his family are said to roam the halls to this day. The stable boy, who spent most of his free hours in the tavern in life, is said to appear beside you if you sit alone at the bar, and he’ll challenge you to a drinking contest. What do you get if you win? Nobody’s ever won, but my guess is some kind of medical record for liver damage. Pat recommends the Fox-sister-style seances, which I haven’t had a chance to attend but which he says are thrilling and most fun with friends.

Thanks for reading, Sumac! I look forward to doing more of these and getting to know the town better. If you’ve got a spot for me to visit, or any information about Pat, please write to me or stop by the tourism office. See you again soon!

[teenagecreatorpainter]

10 Fundamentals About Black Rice Near Me You Didn't Learn In School

Lots of, many years in the past, when the first explorers and migratory persons roamed the earth, they observed how and what each other ate. Because they moved about, they shared meals, borrowed some Suggestions, and brought them home to switch to their own tastes and environment. As men and women's cultures produced and changed, so did the categories of foods they ate.

By way of example, in North The usa we like our substantial bowls of pasta for evening meal, but in Italy it is often just one compact ingredient of The full meal. In a few areas of Asia, noodle dishes tend to be highly regarded likewise. Usually the noodles are comprised of rice or egg, which include Malaysian mee goreng and Cantonese chow mien, and are sometimes elements of soup or fried following boiling.

Rice can be quite a major food with vegetables and meat additional and steamed ideal into it, which include Indian Biryani. There is certainly also fried rice in a few of the other Asian countries or yummy beans and rice in Cuba. Rice is frequently eaten plain as a aspect dish, or with flavouring additional as in North American cooking.

Soups are A different variant that extend from crystal clear broths, to wealthy meaty stews like Hungarian goulash, Vietnamese noodle soup, or perhaps the North American favourites of chili con carne and New England clam chowder.

Breads--where by to start? Mmmmmm.....bread. A number of my favourites incorporate Center Japanese pita bread, Indian naan created inside of a clay tandoor oven, and Italian focaccia. My close friends really like my garlic cheese biscuits, just like a certain well-known seafood chain, and my Mother's do-it-yourself bread. I don't possess a bread maker, but I do know individuals that swear by these to help make all sorts of doughs and baked goods.

Greens which have been eaten in salad or cooked like a side can really differ according to what on earth is regionally and seasonally accessible. If you are thinking about striving Thai food items, they generally include eco-friendly mango or papaya in salad. In North The usa individuals really like their a lot of http://edition.cnn.com/search/?text=black rice selections for greens for instance spinach, arugula, sprouts, and differing kinds of lettuce. Options for baking, sauteing, steaming, frying, and grilling veggies are countless.

Fruit also varies a lot from position to place. With the advent of genetic engineering, the appearance, texture and taste of fruits like bananas and tomatoes from place to nation are Practically limitless. I can style a tremendous difference between my backyard garden's beefsteak tomatoes, as well as hothouse tomatoes I purchase from your supermarket, which have been shipped up with the U.S. inside the winter. When touring to hotter climates, I love to take in refreshing mango, papaya, pineapple, pomegranate and guavas. Even though they won't be as new, you could find Many of these fruits at your local grocery stores in North The us, buy one and provides it a try this week.

Meat continues to be a well known staple item in some cultures, and also a luxury product in other cultures for many years. Dependant upon where you reside, different meats are very fashionable; including pork in China, and goat and lamb in India. There are various preferred meats in North The usa, but definitely beef and chicken are Amongst the most chosen. Meat may be put on a spit and roasted about a hearth, baked, grilled in a North American barbecue, cooked inside of a slow cooker, stir fried, or seafood become Japanese sushi or sashami, just to call a few choices.

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/N6C8OlWtrfs/hqdefault_578866.jpg

Cheeses are A further superb creation that fluctuate so much depending upon the variety of milk, procedure used to really make it, and what's extra into them. On the recent vacation towards the Canary Islands, we appreciated scrumptious fried manchego cheese within a moho rojo sauce. Though in Indian cooking, the handmade, paneer cheese is very talked-about. Several of my other favourites involve Greek feta, Italian mozzarella balls, and great outdated North American sharp cheddar.

Hopefully this article has served to highlight several of the reocurring themes in foods from throughout the world. The spices, ways of planning, and local choices might be different, though the foodstuff groups are pretty identical--and the probabilities are countless.

As promised, I will publish extra comprehensive content Sooner or later about ideas for taking in and cooking new foods, and eventually begin posting some recipes. Meanwhile, feel free to complete a Google lookup to the names of any with the foods outlined if you are keen on finding out more details black rice price per kg on what they are or what is actually in them.

Each individual personal has often been exceptional and one among A form, each has thoroughly various preferences and Choices in all type of matters, may or not it's in clothes or style design, tastes in movies books, and especially in food items. Foodstuff Tastes rely on the region they originated at. It is usually that Chinese are keen on their own individual Chinese delicacies; Italian folks are into pastas and pizzas, and lots of extra.

Nonetheless, there are actually tendencies when individuals decide to a little something new, anything distinct that would tingle their flavor buds, that may be why delicacies from diverse aspects of the entire world are created obtainable in other nations far too. Chinese foods are well known for his or her Uncooked elements, sushi, sashimi, plus the like; Italian foodstuff distribute everywhere in the world as a lot of people love pastas, and pizzas; then, There is certainly Indian delicacies. Indian foods are recognized for its spices, the delicacies have distinctive style and very flavourful mainly are also very hot and spicy. So, for many who want their flavor buds to receive fiery, Indian food is the best choice.

If 1 hasn't tasted Indian foodstuff but, be greater prepared of how it could make you are feeling soon after the primary bite. A lot of Indian foods are spicy, so for people who can't tolerate incredibly hot food stuff, better brace you. Also, due to the load of spices in a single delicacy, the flavour is probably not unique as you are going to encounter levels of preferences, As a result the taster should prepare himself from the practical experience. With India owning a diverse society along with a colourful assortment of traditions, There is certainly also a unique difference between Each and every regions and often, just one recipe should have a particular strategy for cooking in Every single area, having a slightly variation to style for each which will depend on the group of folks's desire. Indian Delicacies on the other hand is recognized for its being pretty flavourful and spicy.

For those who haven't tried out Indian food items yet, and are prepared to expertise this type of delectable celebration, the ideal recipe to try initially is actually a recipe of curry. Curry is rather popular plus a trademark of Indian cuisine and getting tasted it will verify an Indian component. Curry may possibly are available in different approaches to be cooked and frequently, This is a spicy dish, So the initial taster have to enable himself with this and be ready for your hotness and tingling sensation Later on.

Curry is filled with flavour and provides a layer of preferences, so Should you be up for this kind of food items, then one particular wouldn't regret opting for Indian foodstuff. Indian delicacies are also known for their kebabs, so, for meat enthusiasts and grill enthusiast, kebab could be a first preference, it offers loads of flavour as well, and it really is protein abundant. This dish may also arrive in a number of tips on how to be cooked, but essentially, this involves meat, may perhaps or not it's lamb, pork of beef. Lamb kebab is well known in India and is also sought after because of the travellers, so, test possessing this one particular and you may undoubtedly check with for more. Indian foods is about variation, spices and flavour. It'll provide the taster, a very unique expertise on the table.