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antiherocorner · 3 years

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Huh... Alright, I'm doing... I think I'm doing it...

This is my very first fanfic ever... I'm still learning... This is a part 1 thing... I'm currently in the middle of a university exam period, so I couldn't finish the whole story yet, but I will as soon as I can, but I don't want to wait anymore... My English is okay-ish... It's not my native language, so there maybe some grammatical mistakes, I hope it's still readable... I tried my best... Just bear with me, I'll try to learn and improve... I'm very nervous...

Facts about the story: there is no age mentioning, Reader is around 25-26, I made Daniel younger in my head, 34-36 (single, no wife, no kids, let's respect the real Brühl family), Reader is female, I am Hungarian as well (possible Hungarian language in the future), I'm studying Russian (possible Russian language in the future), and I just started learning German, I used translater (sorry if I messed it up but, I really tried, please tell me if it's horrible), and one more thing... I have never met Daniel, nor I went to Berlin (yet, I really want to, and planning)... All of this are imagination, dreaming, and a little searching...

Warnings: none?... i think?... Apart from the horrible language uses and horrible jokes... Maybe swearing.

(Bad) Summary: a Hungarian girl goes to Berlin with a Russian friend of hers, as tourists. They always wanted to visit the city (not because Reader has a crush on the one and only Daniel Brühl, and wants to go to his tapas bar...of course). When the Reader goes back alone to the bar, Daniel is there too... The big meeting, adventures, fun, love, shitty romcom vibes ahead... (i hope the story is better than the summary...)

And now, after this awkward rambling, I present to you:

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With Love from Berlin

Part 1

You couldn’t believe it. Finally, after months of preparation, you and your best friend were finally here, in the heart of Germany, Berlin. It was very different from what you were used to. Coming from a small city from Hungary, this was way bigger than your imagination. All kinds of people from different cultures merged into one. Museums, cafes, bars, restaurants, you didn’t even know where to begin. You took a deep breath in your hotel room. Your friend insisted on getting different rooms, in case she or you find someone to have a good time, if you know what I mean. Well, rather your friend, than you. You wanted to come here after many years, and you were finally here, so you want to experience as much of this city as you possibly could, you’re not gonna waste your time on a random (or more, glancing at your friend) man.

You arrived at the hotel around 1.00pm, so you decided to go get some lunch somewhere close. You were a little bit tired of the long hours on the train. Just around a corner from where you were staying there was a tapas bar. Bar Raval. Your friend wasn’t really into movies that much, or actors in particular, but you knew that place, although you have never been there. You didn’t think about yourself as a “fangirl”, but you really admired the work of Daniel Brühl. You knew there was little to no chance that you could get even a tiny glance of him, but in over all: you would be happy just to say that you were in his bar. Your friend liked Spanish cuisine, so it didn’t take much to convince her to eat there.

A Hungarian and a Russian woman walked into a Spanish restaurant in Germany, Berlin. Sounded comical. The place looked very friendly and funky. There were some people, not really a crowd. You decided to sit in the corner, with your back to the wall, so you can observe your surroundings. Your friend sits down opposite you. A waiter comes up to you:

- Willkommen! Was möchten Sie gerne? - he asked, looking between the two of you.

- Oh, sorry, we don’t really speak German. - you said with quite a thick Hungarian accent, because you got nervous due the potential language barrier.

- I see, It’s okay. We usually have all kinds of tourist here, so you’re good. What can I get for you two? - he asked with a welcoming smile.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to eat, you weren’t familiar with Spanish food at all, so you just trusted your friend to order something. She ordered something with pasta, and another thing with pasta. You had no idea what she just said. And some juice. She smiled at the waiter who scribbled down your order, and of he went. You looked around while you were waiting.

- It’s nice isn’t it?

- Yeah, it is. Quite bohemian. I would have guessed you would want to go to a traditional German restaurant. Why are we here? - smiled your friend knowingly.

- Well… You know…

- Is this the place of your man?

- What?! Shut up… - blushing - I just like his movies, that’s all… Anyway, I just liked the pictures of this place…

- ...and him…

- ...AND I wanted to check it out myself, ok?

- Ok-Ok...

You smiled at each other. You were best friends for years now, you could communicate without much of words. The waiter arrived with your plates. The food was good. In fact, more than good. In general, you prefer other cuisines, but you really liked this Spanish place. In Berlin. Odd, in the best way. After the lunch you went back to the hotel. Your friend wanted to go to a small club in the evening, so you decided to just chill throughout the afternoon.

The traveling took the better of you, as you didn’t just not feel fresh after your nap, but you actually felt like shit. Your friend on the other hand really wanted to get going. So you assured her and yourself that it’s fine if you didn’t go to a club. She was a strong woman, and the club which she picked was just a couple of blocks away, so she decided, after she made sure that it is truly okay, to leave you behind in your room. You have never been a party-animal anyway, and you really just wanted to plan for tomorrow. There were so many things you wanted to watch in the city. After a few hours of planning and searching, you eventually fall asleep on the couch.

In the morning, luckily, you felt much better, more of yourself than in the previous afternoon. You took a shower, get dressed (purple converse, dark skinny jeans, blue tank-top and a blue/black checked shirt...nothing can go wrong dressing like this, you thought), grabbed your camo, ex-military little gym bag, locked your room’s door, and went to knock on your friend’s door. It took a few minutes, some groans, and other small noises, when she finally flung the door open. The sight was hideous.

- The hell happened to you? - you really tried not to laugh.

- Laugh, as you like… I had a good time. Drank more vodka that I could handle though…

- Are you alone or…?

- I am… Calm down, I didn’t get lied… Although I tried… But I didn’t!!! - she said quickly after she saw the frown on your face. - But I feel very shitty… My hangover is killing me, I didn’t give out anything yet… But I might throw up at any minute now…

- How can I help you? Stay with you? Bring you something from that little shop we saw yesterday?

- Some water would be nice… But I don’t want you to see me like this… And I will be fine, i’m just gonna rest today… You can go on on your sightseeing trip.

- Are you sure? I’m gladly staying with you…

- No, no! You wanted to come so badly, I don’t want to take a day away from you. I will be alright.

- You promise?

- I do. Please, just go. - she smiled at you.

- Alright. I’ll go grab you some water, and… I don’t know, go for a walk or something. Get breakfast.

- For the mentioning of food, your friend’s face went green and particularly jumped into her bathroom.

- I’m coming back in a minute or two! - you shouted after her, than closed her hotel room’s door.

You went down to get some water, some bread and some crackers which would be easy on her stomach, yet she still would be able to eat something throughout the day. You knocked on her door, which opened just slightly, an arm came out to take the bag from your hand, a small, weak “Спасибо” and just like that the door was closed again. You giggled to her door before you headed down to the street.

You honestly didn’t really want to explore many things without her, so you tried to keep your excitement low. You decided to go back to that bar where you ate your lunch yesterday. You liked it a lot, and it wasn’t a new place to discover, which meant that your friend wasn’t missing out on anything. You went to the bar. It was still early morning, not many people were there. A few old people, some of them are couples. The younger generation (yours) was probably still sleeping. Besides, the place was more like a lunch/dinner kind of place anyway. The waiter looked up and recognised you.

- Good morning! Alone this time?

- Good morning to you too! Yes, my friend had a wild party last night, and she is standing at the gates of Hell right now.

- That sounds bad. - he laughed.

- It is, she looked scary… - that made him chuckle.

- So what can i do for you today?

- I would like just a cappuccino, please.

- Alright, just sit down, I’m on it.

- Thank you!

You sat down at the exact place where you did yesterday, next to the window, with your back to the wall. You put down your bag, and looked around. With less people, the place looked cozier. You really did like it a lot. Eventually, your cappucino arrived. You thanked it, and tasted it. It was delicious. You were one of those people who liked to read next to a fresh coffee, and you always had a book around you. You took it out from your handy-dandy bag and started reading it, holding it a little up in your hands, leaned back on your chair. You were reading one of your favourite books (Pushkin - Anyegin), while sipping a good morning cappuccino, in a nice place. You just relaxed to the small sounds of the bar and sounds of the city, which infiltrated through the door and windows.

- Eine interessante Wahl von Buch am Morgen. Interessanter als eine Zeitung, das ist sicher...

No. Just...no. You were hallucinating. You felt like everything was frozen around you. From out of 2.8 millions of people (roughly), you would recognize this voice. His voice. You physically could not look up.

- Omm.. I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you just said… - you said with the weakest voice and in the thickest accent ever, in your whole damn life. You hoped that if you make this man say another thing you fall back to reality.

- Oh, my bad - he giggled - I just said that it is an interesting choice of read in the morning, it sure is more interesting than a newspaper.

Shit, this was the reality.

You dared to look up, and your eyes met the most chocolaty eyes ever on this whole planet, but at least in the whole of Berlin. The owner of those eyes was leaning on the chair opposite you.

- Hello. I’m the owner of this Bar, I’m Daniel. - he offered his hand to you.

- Hi, I kno...i mean I’m (Y/N), I’m the costumer…? - you finished with a questioning voice and all you wanted was for the ground to open, swallow you, and with that wipe you out of this universe. You shook his hand, without looking at him directly. His hands were warm and secure. After he released you, you closed your eyes, already feeling the burning sensation in your face. You heard a deep chuckle.

- Yeah, I guessed that. You’re not from Germany and you aren't British either, aren’t you?

You opened your (Y/E/C) eyes only to meet his curious ones.

- No, I’m not. I’m just a tourist here, I’m from Hungary.

- Oh, I’ve been there. It’s a lovely country. Would you mind if I sit down? - gesturing to the empty chair opposite from you.

- Yes… I mean no… - you took a deep breath - If you would like to you can sit with me. - This is just going great...

You earned another deep chuckle from the man in front of you, while he sat down.

- So… What are you doing here alone, in Berlin?

- I’m not alone.

- Oh… Anniversary? - for a moment you thought you saw something in his eyes. Sadness?

- Not that either. I don’t have anyone to celebrate such things. I came here with my friend, but she got wasted last night, and probably at the moment she is agonizing in her bathroom above the toilet.

- Hm… that’s not nice. - curiosity was coming back to his face.

The two of you stayed in silence. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, you were just terribly shy, and couldn’t stop blushing. You even tried to hide some of your face by leaning on one of your palms, and sipping your coffee.

This is aweful. Daniel f*ing Brühl is sitting opposite me, and I can’t even look at him. He must be thinking I’m one of those fangirls who just can’t keep it together before their idols. Which is true, but he shouldn’t have to know that…

But he wasn’t thinking that. Quite the opposite actually. You were so out of place in his bar, he had to approach you. There was something in you which made him intrigued. While you were trying to hide, which he found a little bit cute and entertaining, he tried to study you as well. There was something in you. He felt like he wanted to know your story.

- So what’s the plan for today?

...........

#daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #fanfic #actor x reader #actor x y/n #daniel bruhl x you #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo

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thefoulbeast · 4 years

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A little bit good deal of character analysis in regards to Saburota Todou in the Kyoto arc. This is for my own benefit bc I’m writing smth involving him...

Skipping over the 1st appearance in ch16 because it didn’t really have what I was looking for. Instead I’m skipping straight over to ch25 where Tatsuma shows up and they fight.

This got. Very Long And Very Rambly. So uh, yeah.

tw for canon typical violence and gore

So - Todou already has considerable enhanced physical abilities and regeneration before Karura. Granted, not as strong, but still there.

(man i wish i could do backflips like that when im 56 lmao)

He’s been planning this whole fiasco for over 10 years now (Myou Dha joined the order 10 years ago, and that’s when he first started on manipulating Mamushi)... I wonder how long he’s been eating demons and stuff? How did that even start? How many has he gone through over time? Things to ponder...

Anyways, my biggest question here is... what the fuck is up with his pain tolerance?

He’s straight up getting barbecued and all he has to say is, “I can’t heal fast enough!“ He doesn’t even look a little distraught. Just mildly inconvenienced by the whole thing. (Also - what kind of knife is that? The shape & handle is really funky :O)

I think he was originally intending to like. Eat Karura as soon as it showed up but he had Impure King as a last resort in case he couldn’t overpower Tatsuma (as was the case). The guy really did all his research and had a lot of back ups planned huh.

...I also want to know just how he managed to find out all the stuff regarding the Impure King. How exactly did he know that it hadn’t been destroyed completely? How did he know about Kurikara being empty? And the deal between Karura and the Head Priests?

Sir please cite your sources I’m so curious...

Back on track though! Stuff happens, Tatsuma gets it in the neck with the weird knife, Todou’s all healed up from those nasty burns again and it’s all dandy.

And then we get straight up fire eating.

Again... that should hurt, no? That’s mouth, throat, oesophagus and probably tracheal burns. And Todou just... doesn’t care. He’s still as calm and collected as before, no indication of discomfort. Personally? I’m unnerved by this lol.

The closest we get to discomfort is this when he groans a lil bit after he’s done eating but I think that’s more the stomach upset. From this point on I guess we assume he doesn’t feel pain from fire... but I’m still squinting at everything before this...

Adding this purely because I love these panels. This guy is so messed up. So very very messed up lol.

[Skip forward everything Im not interested in right now]

Someone is having a bit of a bellyache. This is why we don’t eat things while they’re still alive, sir!

But upset stomach or not, he’s still??

“Yeah it’s fine - hello yukio how have you been? - yes, I’m ready to throw hands with you; pain who?“

also... he may be a Huge bastard but I absolutely love how!! Polite he is!!

“Thanks for cooperating ^w^“ <- Todou after cutting off Yukio’s escape route with a wall of flame. lol. However he got evasive when Yukio asked: “What the hell are you?“

He seems to happily give out tidbits of non-vital information, but he obviously knows when to keep his mouth shut (10+ years spying on True cross and no one knew? This guy is very clever! Very tricky! Many secrets!)

I’m sorry this whole thing is so funny... Small, polite talk during fighting is exactly the kind of unhinged I expected from him and he did not disappoint in the slightest. Bless. (I mean he does admit that he’s only doing it to rile Yukio up a few pages later... but still... This man knows just how to get under people’s skin and is so very good at it...)

Also I love how this fight reveals so much about his character so subtly?? I honestly just rec ch28 for p much most anyone would need to get a feel of him as a character.

He’s got this new body and these new powers and the first thing he does is fight a teenager for shits and giggles. Except both the teenager and the younger body keep reminding him of his own youth.

Lower right panel... his face says they’re not happy memories. (In my very biased opinion I would call that expression a mix of “oh whoopsie” and “these memories literally make me want to die”) (And oh Boy does it go well with ch106 pages 23-26 where we actually see how the Todou brothers interacted with each other and that is So Much To Unpack i dont even know where to start lol)

And then right after remarking that family is a sore spot for Yukio, he immediately goes “lmao me too I get it“ ( it’s actually ”Heh heh heh! I feel such a connection between us! Asleep or awake, you’re always hung up on your family! I understand. I used to be the same way.“)

And then finally I reach the part that originally made me want to re-read his scenes in the Kyoto arc...

Todou literally getting his brains blown out with water type bullets 😍😍😍 This is literally the only instance of him admitting that something hurt that I could find so far! What the hell! But that’s not all!

Even then he’s still smiling! He’s still playing around! He got shot through the head, said “oh ouchie“ and immediately shook it off and kept trying rile Yukio up like nothing had happened. Pretty fucked up in my humble opinion, not gonna lie.

“Ah yes I’ve sustained a horrific facial wound let me just dab at it with a handkerchief for a bit that’ll do it.“

He does underestimate Yukio though, becaue he doesn’t see the naiads coming at all. But even with the whole water prison, it bothers him for a few seconds and he’s back on track. He’s very... I’m not sure if tenacious is the right word, but perhaps diligent? Goal oriented?

Very hard to knock off balance, that’s for sure! And even if you manage to catch him by surprise, he seems to adapt very quickly. He’s just genuinely fighting Yukio to have a good time and doesn’t see him as a serious opponent.

But the chilling bit is that he was going to kill Yukio, just like that. He got a feel for his new abilities, had some fun at the expense of Yukio’s emotional state, reminisced on his past for a bit... and that would have been it, if not for the Satan-eyes.

Anyways this got so much longer than I wanted it to lol and I managed to fry my brain so I’ll leave off here. Maybe I’ll do smth aditional later maybe I wont. But just know that I am screaming about this unhinged bastard like 24/7 ❤

Idk if anyone even got to the end of this but I wanted to put my thoughts down somewhere I could find them later lol. Thanks xoxo

#ao no exorcist #ane #saburota todo #character analysis #the written words #saburouta toudou

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kinktae · 6 years

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groovy || pt. 1 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister.

pairing: tae x childhood friend!reader

word count: 9k

genre: 1970s au, fluff, ANGST, eventual smut, f2l

warnings: disco man!hoseok, hippie!jimin, themes of death (OD), family problems, lack of coping, alcohol abuse, and a very flawed OC

A/N: Thank you @kittae for helping me with this fic and letting me user her likeness! This fic was entirely inspired by the song If I Could Tell her by from the musical Dear Evan Hansen (seriously, I even used some of the lyrics as dialogue!) Go give it a listen ;)

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART ONE

“Man, this station is buggin’!” Hoseok declared, shoulders slumping as he handed Taehyung the six, bundled up dollar bills.

Taehyung grabbed the money eagerly, letting out a melodic whistle as the familiar sound of Elton John and Kiki Dee drifted into the room.

Hoseok sent a glare at the small radio that was perched up on the counter.

“How is anyone meant to get down to Elton John? The system’s rigged.” The bitter man scoffed.

“I like this song.” Jimin offered, causing Hoseok to frown.

“Of course you do.” He glared.

“I don’t get why you play this game with him in the first place.” Jimin shook his head. “Tae literally works at a record shop. He gets paid to listen to music all day.”

“He’s got a point.” Taehyung grinned, unable to hide his smugness.

Taehyung had been working at Rose’s Records approaching six months now. Business was usually slow up until around the time the neighboring high schools’ kids got out, which would bring a storm of students all looking to snag or listen to whatever records were hot at the moment.

It was during the still hours before the flood of adolescents that Taehyung would bring out his handy dandy portable radio and tune in to his favorite radio stations, noting what songs were played and requested most.

He spent most of his days in the shop, the cluttered store becoming like a second home to him. He had grown to love the old brick red nylon carpet, although the orange-toned flame stitch wallpaper that crawled up the walls had yet to grow on him.

“Whatever. At least Elton John is better than The Beach Boys.”

At Hoseok’s comment, Jimin’s eyes widened in confusion, “What’s wrong with The Beach Boys?”

Alright, ladies and gentlemen. You’ve waited all day for it. It’s ‘bout that time you’ve all been waiting for.

At the sound of the disc jockey coming on the radio, all three boys perked up, turning their heads towards the small box.

Every Friday, Taehyung’s friends, Jimin and Hoseok, came over the shop to keep him company. A month back, Hoseok had proposed that the three of them played a game to see who could guess the number one song of the week. Jimin, being the pacifist he was, politely declined, claiming he had no interest in a game that could lead to tensions between friends. Thus forcing Hoseok and Taehyung to go head to head each week, both boys putting in their three dollars in the betting pool.

As per the rules of the game, if Hoseok’s choice song came in first, then he would take back the six dollars and ultimately win the game this week.

Pressing his lips together anxiously, Taehyung listened for the radio man’s next words.

So go ahead, cool cats, and turn your radios all the way up because at spot number one is this week’s groove… Play That Funky Music by Wild Cherry!

A loud holler erupted from Hoseok’s mouth, clapping his hands together excitedly as he did so.

“You hear that? In your face!” Hoseok cheered loudly as he plucked the money back from Taehyung.

“Right on, Hobi.” Jimin praised through a laugh.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, watching as his boisterous friend turned up the radio’s volume to the max.

“Listen closely, boys. This is what men listen to.” Hoseok enthused theatrically, gyrating his hips along with the beat. A chuckle escaped Taehyung as the chorus of the song hit and his friend broke out into full dance.

Hoseok was probably an even worse winner than he was a loser, but he sure put on quite a show; Jimin broke into giggles at his friend’s antics and began to clap along.

The sudden chime of a bell caused all the boys to jump in surprise. It was the sound of someone entering the shop and Taehyung hurriedly shoved the dancing Hoseok aside, moving to turn down the volume of the radio.

“Hi, welcome to Rose’s Records—“

Taehyung’s words fell short as he turned to face the entering customer, his wide eyes meeting yours.

A silent beat passed between the both of you, the muted sound of funk-rock still making its way out of the portable radio.

Intrigued by the silence, Taehyung’s friends all turned to look at the new customer. With three sets of eyes now on you, you sent a curt nod Taehyung’s way before continuing into the shop.

Taehyung and the others watched as you went, your hair bouncing with every step you took.

“She’s cute.” Jimin observed quietly, hand tucked neatly into the pocket of his denim jeans.

“Hold on a fat minute, wasn’t that Jeon’s little sister?” Hoseok whispered.

Jimin turned towards Taehyung in surprise, “Jeon? Wasn’t he your friend that–”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s her. Y/N.” Taehyung breathed out, eyes fixated in the direction you had disappeared to.

"Yo, didn’t you have a massive crush on her?”

Taehyung turned towards Hoseok in a panic, eyes wide.

“What? No! What makes you think– Pshh, no way. Dream on.”

“Dude, you used to stare at her like some sad puppy whenever she’d walk past your locker in high school.” Hoseok reminded pointedly.

“No, I didn’t!” Taehyung insisted, voice increasing in pitch as his nerves soared. “You’re buggin’, Hobi.”

“Not to mention the way you’d always try to include her in our plans. Man, Jeon hated that…” Hoseok continued, causing Taehyung to scoff nervously.

“I was just being nice, okay! I didn’t… Hah, get real.”

Hoseok held his hands out in front of him defensively, as if to appease his friend, who was growing in volume.

“Alright, fine! So you didn’t like her! Take a chill pill, man.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to respond before ultimately shutting it.

The truth was he did have a massive crush on you. Not that he would ever admit that though. How could he? You were his best friend’s little sister for crying out loud.

Taehyung remembered the first time he met you all those years ago; you had only just turned thirteen at the time but you might as well have been the most memorable person Taehyung had ever encountered.

It was Taehyung’s first time over at Jungkook’s house, the pair only newly friends. He had been sitting on Jungkook’s bed when you came bounding in, your nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Hey, shrimp brain! You left the toilet up. Again.”

You weren’t very intimidating, standing there in your plaid jumper and yellow stockings, but the way you were glaring unabashedly at Jungkook told Taehyung that you hardly noticed.

“Bite me, brace face.” Jungkook retorted, causing your face to twist up in anger.

For a moment, Taehyung thought you were going to quip back tenfold when to his surprise, you turned towards him instead as if you had only just now noticed that someone else was also in the room.

Immediately, your entire demeanor changed, hands clasping behind your back as you flashed him a toothy grin, showing off your braces proudly.

“Oh, hi! You must be one of Jungkook’s friends.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t want to talk to you, Y/N.”

You turned towards your brother with a glare.

“You don’t know that.”

“Whatever, just get out of my room. You’re annoying us.”

You let out an offended huff, “Fine. It smells awful in here anyway.”

“Shut up, no, it doesn’t.”

“Wow. You’ve gone nose blind to your own stench.” You shook your head, a sad look on your face as you turned towards Taehyung, “You’re so brave for pretending like you don’t notice.”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, cheeks slightly pink.

“Out!” He seethed, gently shoving you back towards the door.

You let out a noise of protest as you tried to push back against him, the stockings on your bare feet offering you no traction against the smooth tile floor.

“It was nice meeting you, Blondie!” You called out over Jungkook’s shoulder causing Taehyung to blush as you were pushed out of the room, door slamming closed.

The door handle rattled for a moment as you tried to pry it back open, only to realize that Jungkook had locked the door before you could get a chance.

Taehyung fought back an amused grin as you let out a small noise of indignation, realizing the battle had been lost before you bid the boys farewell with a gentle, but firm, kick to the door.

Being the soft-spoken, mild-mannered person that Taehyung was, he was in awe of your quick and unapologetic tongue; he couldn’t help but think you were positively stellar.

It was a shame, really. You spoke freely and passionately and there was nothing Taehyung wanted more than just a moment of your time, to speak to you– to really get to know you –but because of Jungkook, Taehyung was forced to settle for admiring you from afar, like some sad, wallowing, love-struck puppy.

You were radiant and wonderful, but you were entirely off-limits.

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Jimin asked suddenly, pulling Taehyung away from his thoughts.

“W-What? Why? Should I?”

“You hung out at Jeon’s more than I did, that’s for damn sure.” Hoseok joked, recalling his and Jungkook’s rocky relationship. “Aren’t you two at least friends?”

“I dunno. We didn’t hang out too much with Jungkook around. You remember how they were.” Taehyung shrugged.

Hoseok let out a contemplative hum, “Yeah… Man, what an ass.”

“Hobi…”

“Sorry, sorry!” Hoseok apologized quickly, throwing his hands up sheepishly.

Taehyung let out a sigh and began to chew on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide whether or not to go over to you. He hadn’t seen you in so long; he wouldn’t even know where to begin in trying to talk to you. But Jimin and Hoseok were right. It wasn’t like you and him were nothing. Many early Monday mornings and family camping trips had been spent with one another, even if it was just circumstance that brought you two together.

Maybe he should go and ask how you were doing. He might never get another opportunity like this, after all.

“I’ll be right back.” Taehyung decided finally, slipping out from behind the counter.

“Good luck!” He heard Jimin call out after him, ironically making Taehyung grow even more nervous.

Pushing past the section of jazz and blues, Taehyung found you in the Pop-Rock section, a vinyl of The Beatles’ Abbey Road in your hands as you inspected it closely.

For a second, Taehyung felt his chest tighten, the sight sending a wave of nostalgia through him. Nearly every Sunday he slept over at Jungkook’s he remembered vividly the sound of that album playing from your room on repeat. He reckoned he still knew every word of every song.

“You still crazy ‘bout The Beatles?” He found himself asking, causing you to snap your head towards his direction in surprise.

For a moment, you merely stared at him, eyes running over him transparently, trying to familiarize yourself with the man who had become somewhat of a stranger over the years. He had grown tall and handsome, almost completely erasing the lanky, awkward teenager you once knew. Almost, but not entirely.

There was something about the cautious way he looked at you and how he tugged at the end of his shirt's sleeve that was still entirely Taehyung.

Satisfied with your observation, you turned back to the album in your hand, nodding.

“I was thirteen when this album came out. I lost my first copy ages ago.”

“Man, you played the crap outta that album.” Taehyung recalled.

“You remember that?” You mused, tracing a finger over the artwork, a smile finding your face.

Taehyung took a few more steps towards you, eyes fixated on the record, “Of course. You can only listen to Octopus’s Garden so many times before it becomes permanently etched into your mind, you know.”

A soft laugh fell from you and the sound caused a warm feeling to fall over Taehyung. It was just as lovely as he remembered and he couldn’t help but allow himself to fully admire you.

You had let your hair grow out since he last saw you. In the years that he knew you, you seemed to prefer your hair short and out of your face. It kept you young, he thought, because now you carried with you a far more mature air about you. Your cheeks had lost the fullness they once held, but you were still just as pretty, if not more so.

You wore a black, long-sleeved turtleneck, a brown waist belt hiding the way it tucked into your corduroy skirt, nothing like the brightly colored and mismatched outfits you used to wear.

Taehyung cleared his throat, “I haven’t seen you since—“

“The funeral. Yeah, I remember.” You cut him off politely, causing his face to heat up.

“Look, I’m really sorry, I’ve been meaning to reach out and see how you were doing.” He began to explain.

“Why?”

Your response caught him off guard.

“W-What?” He furrowed his brows.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not like you owe me anything.” You said somewhat dully.

For a moment, Taehyung was at a loss for words, having absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

“I mean, you were my brother’s best friend and I was just the annoying younger sister, right?” You continued seriously. “It’s cool, I get it.”

“Wha— No! You were important to me!”

At his words, your eyebrows raised, causing bile to rise up Taehyung’s throat.

“Err, your whole family, I mean! You guys were like my second family.” He backtracked quickly.

At his words, you offered him a soft smile.

“S-So, how are you?” He tried again, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“I’m doing well.” You chimed.

“Oh, that’s good! Great, even.” He smiled.

For a moment, you thought the conversation was going to continue along this road of pleasantries, but the sudden falling of Taehyung’s smile told you otherwise. You knew what was coming next.

“And how are you feeling... I mean after–”

“Taehyung.” You cut him off, an unreadable tone to your words.

“Yeah?”

“If you are going to ask me how I’m coping with the death of my brother, don’t bother. I’m fine. It’s whatever. He was an ass, the house is quieter without him.”

Taehyung felt the room go incredibly cold as if someone had turned the air condition on too high or had dumped ice all over him and his thoughts fumbled, trying to comprehend what you had just told him.

“Y/N, I–”

“I’m sorry if that sounded harsh, I know he was your best friend.” You offered sheepishly.

You were smiling at him casually but Taehyung couldn’t help but think the smile you wore didn’t suit you in the slightest.

Taehyung didn’t know what to say. It was true that you and Jungkook had a bad relationship, especially as the years progressed. Childlike banter turned into actual words meant to hurt and Taehyung found himself on multiple occasions having to step in to stop Jungkook from doing or saying something he’d really regret.

Jungkook was angry– so angry all the time, that when he got into one of his moods with Y/N or his parents, Taehyung often wondered where this Jungkook was coming from. Because even if Jungkook was hard to read sometimes, the version of him that Taehyung spent time with felt far more real then the callous, cruel version that interacted with his family.

Something about this still didn't feel right, though. The Y/N he knew felt everything in full color, be it good or bad, and for you to feel only fine about your brother’s death didn’t make sense to him.

And he wanted to tell you that but Taehyung was never great at telling you how he really felt, so he settled for a soft ‘I’m sorry’ and a sympathetic smile instead.

“You know,” You began, bringing the record up against your chest, “my parents talk about you often. They miss you. It would be nice if you came around someday. We still live in the house.”

Your voice suddenly sounded shy and Taehyung wondered, perhaps foolishly, if it was because you wanted him to come over– if you had missed him.

“Of course. How’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah?” You replied, eyes suddenly growing bright. Taehyung nodded.

“I mean, I’ll have to run it by the boss but she’s a sucker for blondes so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

You laughed, shoving Taehyung’s shoulder playfully, “Okay, cool. Just swing by whenever.”

“I think I’m gonna get this by the way.” You added, holding up the nearly forgotten record.

Taehyung shook his head, “Oh, that. You can have it. On the house.”

At his words, your eyes widened.

“What? Oh, no, please. That’s not necessary.” You assured him, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, I’ll pay for it, I don’t mind.” He shrugged languidly causing you to frown.

“Blondie, stop. I can’t accept that.” You stated, sending him a pointed look, your childhood nickname for him causing him to smile.

“You can and you will.” Taehyung teased. “C’mon, only an airhead would turn down a free record.”

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him skeptically, clearly trying to decide whether or not to accept his offer. Taehyung held your stare, allowing you a few seconds of contemplation before he reached out and snatched the record from your hand, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“Consider it a present from an old friend.” He called over his shoulder as he began to walk towards the register.

“Taehyung, wait!” You protested, trudging after him.

At the sound of Taehyung and you returning, Hoseok and Jimin scurried back to their usual places having had snuck forward, crouching out of sight to where they could eavesdrop on the two of you better.

“Pass me a bag, Hobi?” Taehyung said once he arrived at the front of the store, unaware of his friends' guilty expressions.

“No! Don’t!” Your voice called out from somewhere behind, only to realize your protests had been in vain as you reach the front to see Taehyung extending the bagged album out for you.

You couldn’t help hide the small pout that found your bottom lip, nearly stilling Taehyung’s poor fragile heart. Grabbing the bag out of his hand begrudgingly, you sent the unrelenting boy a sigh.

“Thank you.” You said finally, accepting your defeat, not noticing the way Taehyung’s friends were grinning to themselves behind the counter.

“It’s no biggie. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too.” You nodded, biting down on your lip as you bid farewell to the other two boys in the room.

“Goodbye, have a good rest of your day!” Jimin replied politely.

“Thanks for shopping at Rose’s Records.” Hoseok threw out sarcastically.

Sending Taehyung one final close-lipped smile, you turned around and made your way towards the door. Placing your hand on the steel handle, you paused.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You said suddenly, turning around.

Taehyung marveled at you for a moment, soaking in the way you looked up with him with such large, hopeful eyes.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He breathed back, perhaps a little too earnestly.

“Groovy.” You grinned lopsidedly before waving him goodbye and slipping out of the store, not knowing how that smile ended up staying on Taehyung’s mind for the rest of the day.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There was a strange feeling that accompanied Taehyung as he walked up the steps of the front porch of the Jeon house. It was a brick bungalow style home, as were most of the homes in this part of town; incredibly unordinary in every way except for the fact that stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone in the neighborhood knew what had happened to the Jeon family, of course – how the family of four had become a family of three.

Shoulders sinking with the feeling of his own melancholy, Taehyung brought his fist up, rapping his knuckles against the familiar wooden door thrice. He wasn't sure if anyone was home, Mr. Jeon's old Chevy not out on the driveway like it used to be. Man, he hoped he hadn't gotten rid of that car.

The sound of the front door unlocking caused Taehyung to straighten up, eyes widening as your head poked out from behind it. Your hair was in loose curls today, thrown over your shoulders as a pretty suede headband framed the crown of your head.

A wave of nostalgia rolled over at him as you grinned and opened the door wider, urging him inside.

How many times had he seen you open this same door as he swung by after school, flashing him a toothy smile before turning back into the house to yell out:

"Hey, shrimp brain! Blondie's here!"

But of course, that was then and this was now. Taehyung's high school days were over and his best friend was dead. And standing on the faded shag carpet of the Jeon home, he couldn't help but feel as if he was entering the house for the first time.

"You came." You mused, shutting the door behind you.

Taehyung nodded, letting his eyes roll over the home, "Of course. I said I would, didn't I?"

You didn't bother to answer the rhetorical question, watching instead as your brother's best friend took in the state of your childhood home.

The furniture had been rearranged, he noted. Not a single piece was new but the layout was changed entirely as if in a hurried attempt for the house to start anew.

Taehyung let his eyes fall onto the worn-out living room couch. He still remembered the day the unsightly thing first arrived. It was an awful shade of green, a messy floral pattern gracing itself across the cushions. Mrs. Jeon had claimed enthusiastically that the new sofa would give the house character, all the while Mr. Jeon sulked in the kitchen, silently displeased by his wife's purchase but far too good of a husband to tell her so.

Sunday nights were usually spent on that couch. Taehyung’s parents didn’t care much for sports and so the entire Jeon family, including Taehyung, would often sit and watch football— though that happened less and less as Jungkook got older and his relationship with his family strained.

“My parents aren’t home.” You spoke suddenly, pulling Taehyung from his memories.

“Oh shit,” Taehyung’s brow furrowed, “I’m sorry, I should’ve called first.”

You waved a hand in the air dismissively, “No worries, they just ran out to buy some groceries. They’ll be home in 15 minutes. Maybe less.”

Taehyung nodded, eyes flickering behind you as he noticed the crocheted owl that hung on the wall beside the door. At least that hadn’t been moved.

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Taehyung spoke suddenly. If he was going to be spending 15 minutes alone with you, then he at least wanted to clean up a little, make sure he didn’t have any food in his teeth or something of that unfortunate nature.

Tucking your hands into your back pockets, you nodded.

“Is it still down the hallway across your room?” Taehyung asked out of courtesy. You laughed.

“Funny story, our bathroom actually sprouted two legs and moved out.” You teased dryly causing Taehyung to look at you pointedly. "Yeah, it's still there."

The blond boy shook his head, as if to mimicking annoyance but couldn’t help but chuckle as he made his way over to the bathroom.

It felt nice to be able to banter with you casually like this; he had always admired your quick and witty nature after all.

Taehyung was just in the middle of a memory of a Christmas Eve he had once spent in this house when he stopped suddenly, realizing that the door he had approached was not the bathroom’s but rather the door of a room he never thought he'd step into again. It was a mistake, of course; his legs, as if on autopilot, had taken him to the end of the hallway like he was once again on his way into Jungkook's room, where his best friend was laid out on his bed, cassette player beside him as he air-drummed along to whatever song made its way through those bulky headphones of his.

Taehyung stared at the dented door — a result of one of his best friend’s more violent outbursts — and couldn’t help but feel a dull ache in his chest as he realized that this time, however, Jungkook would not be inside.

Before he could reason himself out of it though, he found his hand wrapping around the bronze-colored door handle, pushing it open.

Taehyung let out an audible breath as the room came into view, completely untouched since the last time he had stepped foot into it.

Everything was the same. All of it.

The room had remained its dull beige color, not that anyone could really tell with all the colorful posters Jungkook had plastered along his walls. A few posters had fallen down, however, still lying on the floor, suggesting that no one ever came into this room. Taehyung made eye contact with a Jimi Hendrix’s poster before he continuing on into the vacant room, eyes taking in everything from the dark gray comforter to the pile of comic books collecting dust on the floor.

The only thing that struck him as different was that the bed was actually made for once, a grim reminder that this room now went permanently unoccupied.

Taehyung didn’t know how long he stood in Jungkook’s bedroom, his concept of time lost as old memories played out in front of him like ghosts of the past, but he knew that it had been your voice to pull him back.

“I was never allowed to go in here, you know.”

The unexpected arrival of your voice had Taehyung turning around; you were leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

There was a neutral but pensive look on your face as you let your eyes fall over the room of your brother. Feeling Taehyung’s eyes on you, you turned towards him, offering him a small smile.

“You were taking a while, so I came to make sure you didn’t fall into the toilet or something.” You explained shyly.

Taehyung watched silently as you pushed yourself straight up and walked into the room.

You placed a hand against the dresser by the door, your fingertips running against the textured wood.

Something told Taehyung that this might have been your first time in here in a while too as he took a seat at the foot of Jungkook’s bed. A couple more moments of silence took hold of the room before you also sank down onto the bed beside Taehyung.

The room felt significantly heavier than it did when Taehyung first walked in.

“Jungkook is probably rolling around in his grave right now.” You finally spoke, the intonation of your words hard to pin down.

“Why?” Taehyung asked.

You let your eyes fall onto your feet that were extended out in front of you.

“It’s a double whammy. He hated when I went into his room and when I talked to you.” You mused.

At your latter words, Taehyung raised an eyebrow, “He did?”

“Uh, yeah.” You laughed bitterly. “He hated everything I did.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but frown at your words; no matter how lightly you brought up your brother’s death, he knew that this had to have all affected you more than the way you were trying to portray.

“Don’t say that…” He cooed softly.

“It’s true.”

“No… it’s not. I mean yes, you guys had your issues— Jungkook had his issues. But you know how he was. He just couldn’t open up about how he really felt.”

It was true. All the yelling and venom-laced words that fell from Jungkook’s mouth were just empty surface level frustrations. None of it could have ever alluded to what was actually going on underneath his cold exterior.

"Jungkook didn’t hate you. He thought you were... awesome." Taehyung told you, cringing slightly as his words left his mouth. At the moment, he was unable to think of the right word and as a consequence, a mediocre one ended up slipping out.

"Yeah, right. My brother?" You frowned skeptically.

"Definitely!" Taehyung assured, probably a little too enthusiastically.

You blinked, not sure if Taehyung was being sarcastic or not. "How?"

It was an easy question but the answer that followed it was far from simple. Whenever it was just Taehyung and Jungkook, the brown-haired boy never went out of his way to speak about his parents. He never went to Taehyung gushing over how much he loved them and how proud he was to be a part of his family.

No, Jungkook wasn’t like that.

Something Taehyung had noticed early into the friendship was that Jungkook always had a funny way of sharing his feelings and if he were to talk about his family, it was usually in a very blunt, non-emotional way.

Taehyung always figured that the vulnerability that came with talking about your feelings scared Jungkook.

Taehyung remembered how Jungkook would come to him and tell him about an argument that had broken out the other day, recounting the way he had caused his mother to cry matter-of-factly as if he was merely stating an observation.

At first, it was extremely off-putting, the way Jungkook objectively described his family’s turmoil was unnerving. It wasn’t until Taehyung took the time to notice the way Jungkook would stare off as he spoke, eyes glassy and the corners of his mouth twitching downward ever so slightly that he realized that Jungkook knew. He knew he had done wrong. He knew he had hurt and disappointed his family. He couldn’t speak on his feelings, so he spoke on his actions.

It was a complex and confusing system but it was Jungkook. And Taehyung knew Jungkook was grateful to have someone who understood.

"Your smile." Taehyung responded finally upon recounting something Jungkook had told him once.

You blinked in surprise, shifting in your seat. "My smile?"

Taehyung suddenly became extremely aware of how you had leaned into him in interest, turning away from you as he felt heat inch up his neck.

"He, uh, told me once that you always frowned when he was around… He liked your smile and was sorry he couldn't see more often.”

The latter part had been thrown in as an afterthought. Jungkook had never explicitly told him that, of course, but Taehyung knew that’s what he meant.

You did have a nice smile, after all— sort of subtle and perfect and real. He used to watch you silently as you smiled and laughed alongside your friends in the hallway and wish he was the one making you smile.

Taehyung could see you begin to open your mouth to protest but cut you off before you could.

“I know you probably think he didn’t care about you but he did. He told me once that whenever you got bored, you’d scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans.”

Jungkook had also thrown in a comment about how strange that was Taehyung knew that was just him playing his part of the annoyed older brother. The fact that he had noticed the habit of yours at all disproved Jungkook’s self-proclaimed indifference as Taehyung had noticed too, of course.

“Also, that you loved to fill out the quizzes that they put in those teen magazines.” He added with a hum.

At Taehyung’s words, your eyes visibly furrowed. You used to always accompany your mother when she went grocery shopping and often as a reward she’d buy you a magazine of your choice. However, you would go through it in the privacy of your own room late at night, stuffing it underneath your bed once you were done with it to join the pile of other fully read magazines.

“How did he know that?” You blinked, sounding concerned.

Shit.

It hadn’t occurred to him that there were still some secrets active between Taehyung and Jungkook, leftover from their teenage years.

“Taehyung.” You pressed sternly. Taehyung flashed you a guilty look, knowing there was no point in lying now.

“Well… Sometimes, when you weren’t home... we’d sneak into your room and he’d pull out whatever magazine you last read from under your bed.”

“What?!” You squeaked. You didn’t remember everything you scribbled into those magazines but just the thought of your brother secretly reading what you wrote had your face burning.

Taehyung brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, “Yeah, um, you weren’t supposed to know that.”

“I–” You pressed your lips together before ultimately letting out a sigh. “Why did you guys do that?”

Taehyung contemplated your question from a moment, tilting his head.

“If I remember correctly, Jungkook was trying to look for a diary— blackmail or whatever. You know, typical brother. But other than your magazines, he found jack squat. He used to go through them and find the quizzes inside and look at the answers you wrote. He would read them out loud like he was making fun of you. But…”

“But?”

“I dunno. There are only so many quizzes inside, but he always kept reading. He said you’d write notes and doodle on the pages.”

You fought back a blush, “Yeah. I did.”

Taehyung turned to face Jungkook’s closet. It was cracked open and he could see the old pair of converse his best friend used to wear every day.

“I think,” Taehyung started, trying to collect his thoughts, “I sorta think that was his weird way of trying to get to know you. Because, you know, he couldn’t talk to you.”

Taehyung remembered being in your room, sat down in front of your record player, your Beatles album playing as Jungkook flipped through the magazines, silent and focused. Initially, Taehyung thought Jungkook just really enjoy reading whatever the girly nonsense the magazine had to say.

But one Sunday night at Jungkook’s had proved him wrong as in the middle of the conversation about a movie the two boys had just seen, Jungkook nonchalantly mentioned that you had written that you really liked the main actor and that you were excited about his next movie. The rest of the conversation continued just as normally as it had started but Taehyung realized then and there that his best friend’s interest in your magazines ran further than surface-level celebrity gossip.

“Did he say anything else?” You asked timidly.

The question pulled Taehyung’s attention back to you, blinking away the memory slowly.

“About you?”

At Taehyung’s question, you suddenly felt yourself grow embarrassed. You told him Jungkook didn’t mean much to you but here you were, prying for more information on your estranged brother.

Cheeks aflame, you laughed nervously. “Ah, nevermind, I don't really care anyway—“

"No, no, no!” Taehyung exclaimed suddenly, noticing the way your eyes flickered away from him in embarrassment. “He just.. said so many things! I'm just, I'm trying to remember the best ones!"

Taehyung rubbed at the back of his neck, a wide, sheepish smile on his handsome face. You stared at him eagerly, eyes glistening in expectation.

Mind whirling, Taehyung quickly tried to sort through his memories to see what else he could tell you about his brother. Other than those few comments, Jungkook didn’t talk about you unless it was to complain, but the way you were staring up at him expectantly told him he couldn’t just leave you at that.

So Taehyung decided to get creative.

“He thought you looked really pretty—Err, it looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair.”

Taehyung watched as your face twisted up in confusion, clearing his throat awkwardly as he cursed internally at how unsmooth that sentence had come out. The hair comment was his own of course, he was the one who liked what you had done to your hair all those years ago, but if it gave you any solace, then he didn’t mind pretending it was Jungkook.

“My hair?” You spoke finally after a long, tense pause.

Taehyung nodded in confirmation and you fell silent once again, an eyebrow raised.

For a second, Taehyung worried that he might have said something contradictory. Maybe Jungkook had told you specifically that he hated your purple streaks, but if you held any opposition to Taehyung’s claim you didn’t share it, merely offering him a soft smile.

Taehyung took this as his cue to continue. He let his mind wander for a moment, turning away from you to glance out the room. He could see your door from here. He remembered vividly walking down the hallway past your door, secretly hoping that one day you might open it and invite him in. Of course, it never happened, not with Jungkook living in the bedroom right next to yours.

“Sometimes he’d pass your room and you’d have the door cracked. He could see you dancing along to your Beatles album.” Taehyung recounted his own memory, playing it off as your brother’s. “You would dance like no one was watching, like the rest of the world wasn’t there.”

Taehyung had a lovely profile, you noted, staring at it unabashedly as he spoke. Your mind ran heavy with the weight of his words but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, even when Taehyung had finished talking and caught you staring, an awkward smile falling onto his lips.

“It’s weird.” You spoke finally. “How he was always so close but still somehow seemed so far away.”

If he pretended hard enough, Taehyung could pretend like those words were meant for him. Like you felt the same way about him that he did you. There was no one in this world that he admired more than you and the fact that you came into his life to always remain just slightly out of his reach made his heart ache.

Pressing his lips together, Taehyung placed a hand on top of your head, hoping to give you comfort.

“He just didn’t know how to say…”

“Say what?” You urged once Taehyung fell silent.

“That he loved you.” Taehyung finally muttered, cheeks red as he realized that he was speaking on his own behalf and not Jungkook’s.

You held his eyes with such intensity at that moment that he found himself unable to formulate a coherent thought. You were warm; the side of your leg had pressed up against his casually as the two of you shifted while talking. Your eyes and warmth both nulled and consumed his mind.

Maybe you knew. Maybe you knew that Taehyung was irrevocably wrapped around your finger, that he had become absolutely smitten the laid eyes on you.

Or maybe the way your eyes widened in surprise as Taehyung leaned into you was a sign that you had absolutely no clue your brother’s best friend had been in love with you all these years.

Before Taehyung could kiss you, however, the sound of the front door opening jerked him back into reality, pulling away from you as his head turned towards the sound.

Hearing the sounds of your parents, he turned towards you with wide eyes, a panicked apology on his lips but you had stood up from the bed already, head turned away as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Y/N—”

The call for you was in vain, however, as you slipped out of the room wordlessly and into the hallway, undoubtedly to greet your parents and get away from Taehyung.

Taehyung sat on his bed friend’s bed in silent horror, cheeks red and stomach-churning as he tried to take in what the hell he had just done and how the hell he was meant to greet Mr. and Mrs. Jeon now that he had just tried to kiss their daughter.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“You what?!” Hoseok’s screech of disbelief came through the telephone. Taehyung grimaced, placing a hand against the wall of his hallway, the phone’s earpiece in his other hand.

Upon the Jeons’ arrival, Taehyung forced on a smile and went on to greet them as if nothing was wrong. Neither Taehyung or you could meet each other’s eyes, however, and the rest of his visit was plagued with unspoken awkwardness between the two of you.

Mrs. Jeon had, of course, invited Taehyung to stay for dinner but given the circumstances, he thought it best to decline her offer. He didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were. You didn’t bring up the almost kiss, even when the two of you had a moment alone.

Taehyung didn’t know what to make of your silence.

A day had passed by since his visit to the Jeon residence and he had every intention of never bothering you ever again and locking away the memory of the incident into his private mental folder of shame, but one restless sleep later, he found himself dialing up Hoseok to talk about it.

“I.. leaned in to kiss her.”

“You tried to kiss her. You tried to kiss her on the bed of her dead brother.” Hoseok dead-panned.

“Yes.” Taehyung whined shamefully.

“Dude.”

“I know.” The blonde boy sighed, a frown present.

“What were you even thinking?”

“I wasn’t! I wasn’t thinking! She was just so close to my face and, fuck, she was looking at me with these eyes and smelled like oranges and bubblegum—”

“Woah, chill. Do I need to hang up so that you and your hand can spend some alone time?” Hoseok joked. Taehyung eyelids lowered into a deadly glare, wishing the blue wallpaper he was staring at was his friend’s face.

“Fuck you, I should’ve called Jimin.”

“Oh, please, Jimin’s a total sap. His hippie ass would've spewed some shit about free love and chasing your happiness.” Hoseok insisted through a laugh.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, "Probably, but at least he knows what love is."

"I know what love is." Hoseok replied coldly.

Taehyung couldn't help let out an amused laugh, "Hobi, the only time you fall head over heels is when you pass by a mirror."

Surprisingly, instead of the quick and clipped rebuttal that Taehyung was expecting, he was met with silence, background noise seeping through telephone from Hoseok's end.

Taehyung frowned. Was he... wrong?

"Hoseok?" He pressed, unnerved at his friend's muteness.

"...Yeah?" The man in question finally responded, sounding hesitant.

"Are you? In love with someone, I mean?"

"W-What? No, man."

Taehyung thought to himself for a moment before replying, "Is it that girl you met at that disco? Eva?"

He didn't know much about the pretty blonde other than she showed the same interest in the underground dance craze that Hoseok did. Well that, and that she clearly was as attracted to Hoseok as he was to her as Taehyung once found the two of them getting it on in the backseat of Hoseok's car.

The way her wide, horrified blue eyes meet his was among the many memories Taehyung hid away in his mental locker of shame.

A small noise left Hoseok's mouth, as if he was going to say something but suddenly lost courage.

"No, c'mon... What are you on about?" Hoseok countered unconvincingly, his voice high and wavering. Taehyung's eyes nearly fell out of his damn head.

"Holy shit! You like Eva!" He gaped in disbelief. "That's slammin', man!"

"I'm gonna slam you into a wall if you don't shut up about it." The embarrassed man huffed back.

Taehyung paid no mind to the empty threat, shaking his head in disbelief, "The self-proclaimed 'lifelong bachelor' is smitten! This is unbelievable, I– Hold on... Am I dreaming? Is this all some weird fever dream?"

"Shut up! So what if I like Eva?" Hoseok hissed, his bashful tone seeping through the line. "I thought we meant to be talking about you? Quit dippin' in my kool-aid."

"Alright, alright! Don't have a cow about it." Taehyung chuckled, grinning ear to ear at the sound of his friend admitting it. Hoseok let out a huff and for a moment, silence hung between the two boys.

"Hobi." Taehyung spoke finally.

"What?" Hoseok muttered in reply, sounding irritated.

"I'm happy for you, man."

Another beat of wordlessness seeped through, although this time it felt significantly less tense and Taehyung swore if he could've seen into Hoseok's house, he would've seen a small smile on his friend's face.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't get sappy on me." Hoseok chuckled. "Save it for when she actually agrees to go out with me."

"Keeping you in my prayers." Taehyung teased, wrapping a finger through the telephone's coil.

Hoseok let out a laugh and Taehyung couldn't help but find comfort in the familiar sound.

"Well, I've gotta book it if I wanna make it in time for tonight's disco. I'll catch you later, Tae." Hoseok said.

Taehyung fought back a smile, "Alright, have fun getting down, Romeo."

"Tae, I swear on everything holy, I'm gonna shove my foot so far up your ass you're gonna–"

The rest of Hoseok's threat fell on empty ears, however, as Taehyung placed the handset back onto it's designated place, cutting the call short.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It was pure coincidence that brought both Taehyung and you together again that same night– Coincidence and quite a bit of stupidity on your part.

Taehyung had gone out for a late drive; he had a lot on his mind and had found that midnight drives alone in his car where he could sing along to his favorite Queen cassette always proved to be a sufficient distraction.

He had been halfway through his stunning Killer Queen rendition when a girl walking along the side of the road caught his attention. His concern quickly turned into absolute horror as he quickly realized that the girl walking along in the middle of the night was you.

He pulled over immediately, lowering a window as he called out your name and ordered you into the car. His heart was in his throat as your glazed eyes met his before, thankfully, slipping into the passenger seat.

Taehyung had never been angry with you ever but as the two sat silently in his unmoving car, he couldn’t help but feel his blood being to boil. You reeked of alcohol and the fact that you weren’t even speaking up to defend yourself meant you knew what the hell you were doing.

“If you’re gonna yell at me just get it over with.” You broke the tense atmosphere finally, causing Taehyung to stiffen.

“I’m not gonna yell at you.” He stated matter-of-factly, a deep frown on his face.

You placed your palms against your thighs, tapping your fingers against the bare flesh.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Goin’ home. Couldn’t… I couldn’t find my ride.” You stated through a pout, your intoxication showing through the way you struggled with the syntax of your sentence.

“So you decided to just walk home? Alone? In the middle of the night?!” Taehyung gaped in disbelief.

At his tone, you frowned. “Chill out, I’ve done it before.”

You could see the way Taehyung’s eyes hardened and realized you probably should have thought before you spoke.

“You’ve— Fucking, haven’t you heard about the news in Seattle? There’s a bunch of girls your age going missing. Murders happening Utah too!”

Anger didn’t suit Taehyung, you decided, blinking at him drunkenly as you noted the way voice shook as if he wasn’t used to speaking like this. Certainly not to you. He was usually so calm and soft-spoken, so to see him this upset really made you feel scummy.

“Do you do this often? Please tell me this is the first time you’ve done something this stupid.”

“No. Sometimes.” You answered inconclusively before turning away from the blonde. “This is your fault, anyway.”

Taehyung merely started at you blankly before responding. “What are you talking about?”

You must have been drunker than he previously thought.

“I drink to forget and… I forgot, you know! I had forgotten but then you had to come in… all familiar and blonde. You even smell like him!” You followed up the drunken statement with an irritated huffed, frowning at the passenger seat window.

Were you talking about Jungkook? Were you drinking to forget about him? Taehyung suspected you were suppressing your emotions but he had no idea it was to this extent.

“Is this about Jungkook?”

“Shut up! Shut up about Jungkook! I don’t even—” A sudden, shaky breath halted your next words, causing Taehyung’s heart to sink.

Your fists clenched around the fabric of your skirt, small uneasy breaths tumbling through your lips as tears began to fall from your eyes.

“I don’t even care about him! He was horrible and mean and made mom cry. I don’t care that he’s gone!” You declared.

Taehyung felt his heart began to shatter as he watched your form tremble slightly.

“Yes, you do.” He replied softly.

“No, I don’t!” You shook your head, vision blurred as your tears picked up.

“Yes, you do. If you didn’t care you wouldn’t be crying like this.”

At Taehyung’s words, you felt your shoulders fall, his words falling heavily on you. A large, warm hand found your cheek suddenly, and you turned begrudgingly to look over at him.

Taehyung ran his thumb against your wet cheek.

“His death doesn’t mean nothing to you. Even if you don’t feel sadness, you feel something. That’s okay. It’s okay to feel something.” He urged softly.

Your wet eyes held his sympathetic ones for a moment.

“I was the one to find him.” You told Taehyung through a sniff.

For a second, he thought he misheard you, wholly stunned at your confession.

“What?”

“When he… I was the one to walk in the bathroom and find him lying there.” You continued through a cry. He could see all composure, all the walls you had build up begin to dissipate as your tears made their way down your neck.

“And I knew too. I caught him doing it once... he... he had the needle in his arm and everything...”

You were crying freely now, emotions hitting you full force as the alcohol and weight of the memory mixed within you.

“He said it was his first time and that he wasn’t gonna do it again— he promised! He made me swear that I wouldn’t… that I wouldn’t tell mom or dad.” Your words became harder to get out as you struggled to catch your breath. “And do you know what I did? I yelled at him, told him he was an idiot and that I didn’t care what he did to himself.”

Taehyung let out a heavy breath; he had no idea that you had been carrying this with you this whole time.

You shook your head. “I should’ve told. I was scared, I was so, so scared. I didn’t wanna make him mad– didn’t want him to hate me even more than he already did. Now it all just seems so fucking stupid. I just– I didn’t think… Why did he have to…”

You found yourself pulled into Taehyung’s arms, an arm wrapping around your waist while the other held your head to his chest. His warmth engulfed you and just that like you crumbled into him and everything that weighed you down came tumbling out.

“I hate him for using. I hate him for letting me catch him. I hate him for making me hate myself! I fucking hate myself!” You wept into his chest, body trembling with every breath you took.

“I killed him, I killed my brother! He’s dead because of me.” You sobbed pitifully. You knew your words were hardly comprehensible at this point, your panic muffled by Taehyung’s chest anyway.

You ached— every part of you ached and hurt and all you could do was cry as Taehyung held you tighter, pressing kisses onto the top of your head.

Tears were streaming down Taehyung’s own face, your hurt invoking his own feelings about his best friend’s death.

He wished he could take your pain away, he wished he could find a way to ensure that you would never hurt another day in your life… but he couldn’t. All he could do was hold you until, slowly, your breathing calmed down and sobs ceased.

And for however many lovely minutes the universe granted Taehyung, the two of you just sat silently in his car in each other’s arms.

You let a deep and long breath, pulling away from your childhood friend gently, unable to meet his eyes. You felt so incredibly vulnerable; you never told anyone that you knew Jungkook had been using. How could you? The guilt was so crippling that you had to suppress the memory entirely. Yet, despite how much it hurt to relive it and admit it, you felt calm now. Lighter, even.

Taehyung had stepped back into your life and within three days had managed to crash through the barrier you had been spent the last four years building up.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked cautiously, the hand on your head now resting on your jaw. You nodded lightly, taking in a few more even breaths.

“Yeah. Wow, I’m sorry.” You spoke finally, face warm as embarrassment finally caught up with you. “That was a lot to drop on you.”

You had shifted back into your previous spot, letting out a nervous laugh as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

“Y/N.” Taehyung called out, sounding serious. You turned towards him hesitantly.

“You didn’t kill Jungkook.” He assured you firmly as you held his eyes.

“You were sixteen, you were so young— we were all so damn young to have dealt with this shit. It’s nobody’s fault.”

Your head fell down to look at where Taehyung’s large hand had come down on top of yours, the warm sensation bringing you comfort.

“I know,” You replied sadly, voice hardly above a whisper, “Just sucks.”

“Yeah. It does.” Taehyung agreed.

It wasn’t until this moment that Taehyung realized that Queen was still playing lowly the background from when he had turned it down when he first found you. Easily recognizing the song playing, Taehyung reached over and turned up the volume dial, just in time to catch the final two lines of the short ballad.

From all this gloom, life can start anew.

And there'll be no crying soon.

“Man, I sure hope so.” You huffed in response, causing Taehyung to laugh lightly.

“Do your parents know where you are? I can take you home.” Taehyung took the liberty of asking; the two of you had been parked on the side of the road for this entire time.

You thought for a moment before sighing.

“My parents think I’m sleeping over a friend’s. They don’t know I’m still drinking like this. I was supposed to go home with this boy. He was the one who took me there.”

Taehyung frowned. You had come with a boy and he let you out of his sight for long enough for you to literally walk out the damn party?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ll kick your boyfriend ass if he ever lets you walk out of a party alone in the middle of the night again.” Taehyung frowned.

You grinned, finding the idea of Taehyung kicking someone’s ass funny. Not that he wasn’t capable but he was just so mellow and kind that the concept amused you.

“He’s definitely not my boyfriend but noted. I probably won’t be seeing him again after this.”

He hated admitting it but hearing you say that made him happy.

“You can spend the night at mine if you want?” He offered.

Your eyebrows raised at his words, “Oh. I mean… Yeah, if you don’t mind. I hate worrying my parents and if they saw me like this...”

Taehyung let out noise as if to say ‘say no more’ before pulling the car into gear.

“Blondie?” You started suddenly.

Taehyung didn’t even have time to turn to look at you before the soft feeling of your lips pressed themselves against his cheek.

“Thank you.” You murmured, a gentleness in your tone. “For everything. It’s nice seeing your face every day again.”

Taehyung was thankful for the night’s dim coverage because if you had seen the full extent of how just how red he had turned, his mind’s locker of shame would’ve had to rent out an entire, new building just to make room for that moment alone.

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secondpubertyscene · 5 years

Text

6.9.19 - Brain Dump

The world is a weird and funky place. My home is not an exception to that reality. Now mind you this, living with my father is perhaps one of the best things that could have ever happened to me. I’ve got my own space, a relative amount of privacy, I get home-cooked meals every night, there is air conditioning, heat, a yard and porch, a basement with a pool table, a living room with a nice TV, and free laundry just below me. I have everything that anyone could ask for in a home and for those things, I am sincerely thankful. I feel like I have to keep prefacing all that I say with some form of gratitude, as to not appear ungrateful for the things that I do have, privileges that I do possess. This is about to become a tangent but I think it is a good idea for me to get into it. Recently, I have been looking in the mirror and recognizing just what an ungrateful little twit I’ve been. I mean, when you look at my life compositely, there really isn’t much for me to complain about.

I have two parents. Sure, one of them is mildly abusive and an addict and the other can sometimes be a bit…emotionally detached, but they’re parents nonetheless and ones that genuinely do love me, even if they have a funny way of showing it. My mother and I will probably never have a normal relationship because from my existence into this world, it was strained. It began that way and odds are, regardless of how hard we try, it will probably end that way. Not because it is impossible for people to change, but because it is highly unlikely. Her abusive behavior is almost completely gone, but her manipulative behavior does still exist and I am constantly wary of it. I think she fails to recognize how much she fucked me up the first couple years I started living with her and now that things are better, she seems to think that things are all fine and dandy. For example, I mentioned in a rant that I’ve been acting like an adult since I was about 15. She jumped in the conversation and stated, “Well, you chose that. You didn’t tell anyone what you were doing, so yeah, you had to go through it alone.”

That took me back. I mean, sure, that argument can be used but does she not recognize the issues with that argument? It means that I was going through the hardest part of my life alone because she didn’t make a space for me to feel comfortable enough to talk to her about what was going on with me. This is all about my transition, mind you. When I finally did come out to her and started testosterone, she kicked me out, cursed me out, left threatening messages on my phone, and made me literally want to die. Thankfully, my father (he is my adopted father) was able to give me a place to stay and I’ve been living with him ever since, but the point is: I didn’t really choose that. I didn’t choose to do everything alone. I HAD to do everything alone. She didn’t want to see me transition, she was grieving the loss of my brother and she felt like she was grieving the loss of me (as her little girl) as well. How it made sense for her to kick me out in an effort NOT to lose me is beyond my comprehension. Gee. I’m way off track.

The reason I began writing this post was to speak about the lack of comfort I feel while home. It isn’t like this house isn’t nice and cozy because, in a lot of ways, it is. It is more about the energy of the house. I can’t relax here. I feel like I have to sneak around to do simple things like eating or go out to get food that I actually want and not the same four meals that my dad swears by. I feel guilty for not being productive in this house, even when I’m as sick as I am right now (nothing but a nasty sinus infection). I constantly feel like my dad is judging me for not being him. I feel like he thinks that I am incompetent, lazy, and unmotivated to actually ever do anything with my life. I mean, literally, during one his many unasked for pep talks, he basically called me an idiot for not pursuing business ventures that were simple enough for an eight-year-old to do. Yes, I can spend my summer selling ice cream and make a pretty penny exploiting the tourists of the city downtown, but is that really the kind of work that I want to do? No. And while yes, I can’t really afford to be picky about what my job is when I am without one, I cannot stand being made a fool of for not having the same vision as a 66 year old man who has spent his entire life trying to prove to himself and others that he is capable of greatness. I don’t need that.

He makes it impossible for me to experience any feelings other than gratitude and happiness when I’m home because apparently, every other emotion in the world is a negative testament to my humanity. Not allowed to get frustrated because ultimately everything will be okay. Not allowed to be angry because being angry doesn’t fix anything. Not allowed to be sad because the situation will change someday. Not allowed to be nervous or anxious because it is illogical. Not allowed to be sick because I could have taken precautions to ward off the illness. Literally, anything that happens to me, he finds a way to make it my fault. If my 13-year-old car has brake issues, it is because I don’t know how to drive. It couldn’t be that the brakes are literally 13 years old. It has to be my fault. I understand the significance of introspection, of being self-critical, of analyzing where one could have made better choices, but sometimes, it is enough for things to just suck. Without regard for how things could have been changed. Without regard for whose fault it is.

I’ll admit, some of my frustration is borne of the recognition that he is right in a lot of aspects. Sometimes emotions don’t really do anything but make what is already an unfortunate circumstance feel even worse. Being able to emotionally detach from situations can be highly useful in navigating things calmly and with precision, but I genuinely believe that takes away some of our humanity. To not feel? To replace feeling with only thought? It sounds robotic, cold, and honestly, mildly psychopathic. It makes life easier, yes. There is no doubt about that. But happier? I don’t know. To never feel the downs seem to lessen the value of the ups. One thing my dad said to me that I will never forget: “I never let myself get too far into extremes. Never too high, never too low. No crash that way.” This was on his birthday. His birthday. I don’t know. I mean, perhaps that way of coping with life has been important to him, but I have to imagine that living a life like that has its limits.

I’ve recently been trying to figure him out, but fail to do so. Perhaps I just need to sit and talk with him more. I think something can be said about his underlying psychology and I imagine that it is far more nuanced and complex that I was initially prepared for. I’ve rambled on enough for today. I have a post that I wanted to post before this one, but it isn’t complete yet so looks like this bad boy is up.

#writing #personal blog #writing blog #personal writing blog #life #my life #thoughts #emotions #growth

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louthegreatfurrry · 6 years

Text

A Bond for Life

@justafictionalthing merry christmas you funky little monsterfucker

Megamind sits by seventeen TV-screens and nibbles at his thumb. His own face is displayed on every single screen, all dolled up and leather-clad. The stamp of the largest news channel is spinning in every bottom-right corner.

It’s time to do something drastic; it’s time to start his career.

There’s only one single person who could’ve stopped him –

but she’s long gone. A shadow of his very earliest years. She probably doesn’t even remember him; his presence in her life had been brief and fleeting, after all.

He spins on his chair, turning to face the idea cloud forming behind him. The memories are pushed away for now. They always are.

***

And curled up on a couch on the other side of the city is Cat, clutching a blanket as she stares at her TV, cheeks flushed and with the stars in her eyes.

It all began when they were both very young. They weren’t more than five or so – they went to the same school, a ‘top tier’ bullshit thing that Cat was a part of simply because it was the one closest to her house.

It was where she met Megamind for the first time. Of course, he wasn’t Megamind then – he was Cirrus, a shy, energic and curious young boy.

She arrived after him and was met with a warzone, divided into a group and a lone sad boy. And she was five, but she wasn’t stupid, and she saw the way the other kids looked at him.

During the very first lunch she had there she sat down at the almost empty table in the back. “Hi!” she said, beaming at him as well as she could. “I’m Cat!” She thrust out her hand like she’d seen the adults do, hoping – almost expecting – him to take it.

He stared at her in obvious surprise, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. A few moments passed, and then the fish he had in a small glass ball nudged into his elbow. The boy started, then smiled down at the fish, before looking back up at Cat. “I’m Cirrus,” he said, reaching over to clumsily shake her hand.

It was the beginning of something great.

“Wh – oh, yes, of course,” Cat says, her eyes on the screen. She’s not one hundred percent sure what Jamie’s saying, but it’s probably got something or other to do with work. It always is; they consume work the way Cat consumes coffee.

“Cat!” Jamie snaps, stepping in between Cat and the big TV screen. “Are you even listening?”

“I – yeah!” Cat says, focusing on her acquaintance. “Yeah.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow, then turns around to look at the screens. “Ah,” they say, sounding absolutely exasperated. “Him again?”

“What do you mean, again?” Cat asks. She hasn’t talked about him – has barely even looked at anything that reminds her of him – in the presence of others.

They shake their head, then turn around to give Cat a raised eyebrow. “You really haven’t seen it? He’s been on the news ever since Wednesday.”

– oh. Well, she’d certainly noticed. There hadn’t been a lot of other things to see, to be honest. He had been on every single news station twenty-four seven, after all.

She’s – well, she’s missed him. When he shows up on the news out of nowhere she’s bound to be excited.

Gods, it’s been years. Decades! And he’s been on her mind far too often for her to be comfortable with. Now, to be fair, it’s not easy to forget a blue alien man – but still.

Deus. He’s a blue alien man and she managed to lose him.

She sighs. At least she knows he’s still alive, after all these years.

…and good looking. Incredibly good looking. Doesn’t help that she has a thing for bad guy.

“ – lo? Cat? Hello?”

Cat starts, focusing back on the papers Jamie’s handing her. “Ah, yes, of course,” she says, grabbing the papers hurriedly. “Signatures, right?”

Jamie stares. “That’s. A newspaper.”

Cat looks at the paper she’s holding.

It’s most definitely a newspaper.

And Cirrus’ face is plastered all over the front page. She gasps in delight. “Is he in here, too?” She flips it open excitedly, scanning the contents. There’s no new information on him – she’s seen enough news reports to know all the media knows. Of course, she knows more than that. His favorite color, food, subject –

his name.

“Megamind,” she mutters, trailing the pad of her index finger down the letters on the front page. “What happened to you?”

***

They sat on the swings, Cat and him. It was a cold autumn day, the leaves on the scattered trees just turning fierce orange and dull brown.

“Autumn is so pretty,” Cat said, kicking her legs back and forth. She was wearing a thick jacket and a scarf and an intrigued expression, eyes glistening.

“Oh?” Cirrus said, looking down at his own blue hands, clasped in his lap as he sat perfectly still on the swings. There was orange against blue, blue against orange, and only a thin layer of cotton between him and the freezing cold. “How come?” Personally, he wasn’t a big fan of autumn. The cold was creeping in, meaning that winter – and with it, all the horrors it resembled – was getting closer.

“The colors,” Cat said easily. She kicked her feet again, slowly swinging back and forth. There was a smile on her face, gentle and content and sure in itself. “It’s fire, don’t you see? And the nights are getting longer – I can see the stars again!”

Cirrus smiled. He had to admit that she was right. “The stars, hm?” he asked. “Do you like them?”

“I love them,” was her simple reply. And, he supposed, if she did then she did. “You’re smart,” she said, turning to him with that same content smile from before, “can’t you build a rocket ship to travel out there?”

He didn’t say that he’d been there already. “Well,” he said, slowly starting to kick his feet, too. “Rocket ships are… complicated. I’ve looked at it, but…”

(there are no one left for me to go to)

He swallowed. “It’s hard to do right now. Maybe when I’m older and can find parts easier.”

Cat nodded wistfully, humming in gentle acceptance. Then she gasped, straightening up in her swing and turning the solemn look into a bright beam. “Take me with you!” she said eagerly. “When you build a ship – please?”

Cirrus blinked. “You want to?”

“Of course,” Cat nodded fiercely. “You’re my best friend.”

He hesitated, then smiled. “Thanks,” he offered. “You… uh, you’re my best friend, too.”

Cat beamed at him. “Here,” she said, unwrapping her scarf from her neck. “It’s cold and I don’t need it.”

“I – thank you,” Cirrus said, taking the scarf carefully. It was warm against his fingers, and he hurried to put it on before that warmth would fade from it.

Fifteen minutes later, when the bus that took him back to the prison arrived, he still wore the scarf.

The plan was to return it the next day.

What on Earth is he supposed to do with that wire? Where does it even come from, why is it just – hanging there –

“Sir?”

Megamind starts, slamming his head into the robot arm he’s working on.

“Sir, I found – sir? Are you okay?”

Groaning, Megamind slowly pulls himself back up at his feet. “Oh, just dandy,” he mutters, rubbing his head. “What did you find?”

Silently Minion holds up his hand, displaying a far too familiar scarf.

And Megamind’s heart almost stops beating. “Oh!” he says, bolting over to take it from his hands, “we still have this – old thing, haha, I better, uh, get rid of it – ”

Minion raises an eyebrow. “Is that a good idea, sir?”

Megamind stops, the scarf protectively held against his chest. “I – well, don’t you think it is?”

A shrug. “It’s… just a scarf, sir. But if you want me to get rid of it…” he says, reaching after the scarf.

“No!” Megamind exclaims, backing away from him. He clears his throat. “Ahem, no, no, it’s, uh… that’d be. Wasteful.”

Another shrug, this one accompanied by a small smile. “Sure thing, sir.” A pause. “What are you building?”

“Wonderful question, Minion, thank you for asking,” he exclaims, grateful for the change of subject. “This, ” – he gestures towards the half-done robot arm – “is my newest and greatest invention! A robot big enough to crush Metroman beneath its sole!” He gestures wildly as he speaks, a wide grin on his face.

Minion looks decidedly unimpressed. “Remind me again, sir, why you’re doing this.”

Megamind lets his arm drop to his sides and walks over, patting Minion’s arm as he circles him. “We have been working for this for years, Minion!” he whispers eagerly, coming full circle to grab his chestplate. “This is what we’ve dedicated our lives to! And we’re finally here!”

“Yes, sir,” Minion says, slowly, uncertainty blooming behind his words, “but… why do you want to do this?”

He hesitates, gaze flickering unwillingly to the scarf clutched in his hand. “Uh…”

Minion inhales sharply and takes a step back, leaving Megamind with his hands hovering awkwardly in the air between them. “It’s a call for attention!” Minion exclaims, pointing an accusing finger towards him. Megamind winces, bringing his hands to his chest. “You just want to – ”

“Stop,” Megamind says. It’s meant as a command – as something sharp and pointed, something to puncture him and push him away. Instead it comes out half-choked, quiet and desperate, voice trembling. “Minion – stop.”

He knows what he wants, and he knows it all too well.

Not a day has passed where he hasn’t thought of her. Not a single day.

When the people who show you affection can be counted on one hand, you tend to keep them close to heart.

***

Cat sat, her hand on Minion’s orb in a quiet but familiar show of affection. Her eyes were glued to Cirrus, standing in front of the blackboard and scribbling hurriedly with a piece of chalk. He’d asked the teacher a question and she’d thought he was making up a complicated question to mock her – so she’d asked an even more complicated question in turn, and he’d risen to the challenge without a sliver of hesitation.

His handwriting had turned shaky half-way through the math calculation as he got more excited and wrote quicker, but now he finished with a flourish, drawing two lines beneath the answer. He spun to the class, clasping his hands behind his back with a wide beam. “Three hundred and four point zero zero sixty-seven,” he said with the absolute utter confidence of a genius.

Cat, vibrating with excitement, burst into wild applause. Cirrus’ eyes snapped to her, warm gratitude and affection in his gaze, along with tensed surprise.

The rest of the class, confused and uncertain, clapped slowly. Moved by Cat, probably, but it was applause, nonetheless.

Later, in the break, Cat gave him a hug. “You’re smart,” she said, “it’s cool.” She didn’t have the proper words to express how impressed she was – even the teacher had been astonished! – so she only handed him Minion again, giving him a wide bright beam.

Cirrus smiled back at her, scratching the back of his neck. “Th – thanks,” he muttered. “You’re smart, as well.”

“Not as smart as you,” Cat said, but the beam didn’t fade from her face. “But thank you!”

Cat stands on her balcony, head tilted back to stare up at the stars. She’s cold, but only a little bit, and she needs this moment to think. To simply be, letting her thoughts and emotions swirl around as they wish.

Cirrus – Megamind, as he is now – has been on her mind for days. His eyes, his grin, the way he always tilted his head when she asked him a question he had to think about. She takes a deep breath and wraps her arms around her torso. The cold of autumn is creeping into her in a way it’s never done before, gnawing at her heart and her soul.

She’s always… missed him, to some degree. Missed the aspect of him (alien man! alien! from the stars!), missed his friendship, missed the way he defended her fiercely when the other children decided she was an acceptable target.

She’d always been sure that she’d never see him again, though. She’d thought – for weeks, months, years – that when she’d left him, she’d never get him back.

But now she’s been reminded – forcefully, suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever – that he exists. He’s still alive and kickin’, still a genius, incredibly attractive and also in the same city as her.

It kinda burst her bubble, to put it like that.

Slowly she lowers her head, thudding her forehead against the cold rails of her balcony. What is she going to do? She can’t just continue to live like this, knowing that he’s out there, and not do anything –

does he even remember her? She’s just a human, and they were so terribly young when they met –

of course she remembers him, he’s a fucking inferno for Deus’ sake, burning brighter than all the stars and their descendants combined –

she’s nothing in comparison.

She raises her head slightly, then thuds it down into the rails again with a groan. Why on Earth would he remember her?

Straightening up she takes a deep breath. It doesn’t matter. She remembers him, and she has to do something.

She has to know.

***

Cirrus leaned against the bars of his prison cell, Minion held on his lap. “She’s so kind,” he said, referring to Cat letting him borrow her crayons during recess, despite knowing that he would use them to take notes and not to draw.

Joe, the inmate across the hallway, hummed. “A good gal, huh?”

“Yes,” Cirrus agreed. “She’s a good friend. I’m glad we go to the same shool.”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah, kid,” he said, “you better thank your lucky stars. People like her ain’t common.”

He looked down at Minion – at his best friend and companion, at the one person who’d always been there for him – and shared a soft smile with him. “I know,” he said. So far there had only been two.

“Sir! You’re on the news!”

Megamind stands over by the window in his lair, hands clasped behind his back as he surveys the city. “I know!” he calls back. And oh, does he know. He’s read the articles. He’s seen the reports.

Evil, they say, bad guy, supervillain.

Unredeemable, they scream.

And it’s what he is, they’re right, but still it hurts, and it hurts somewhat terribly, heart bruised and bleeding, aching and cracked. Regret has been filling him for days. Yes, this is what he’s wanted to do his whole life –

but is it? Is it really what he wants?

His gaze roams from the city and over to the forest in the distance, on the other side of the lake. Fire is raging through the forest, painting the landscape a warm, faded orange. Autumn has long since began.

The scarf – her scarf – is in his hands, the cloth old and worn and still hers.

Maybe it is a call for attention. Maybe he just wants to see her again. Maybe he just wants to know she’s doing okay after she disappeared so abruptly. So what? What’s so wrong about that?

He presses his forehead against the glass pane, letting the cold from outside seep through it and into his head.

She doesn’t want anything to do with him now. Evil, bad, villain. Who would want anything to do with that?

…but is it really too late to turn back?

His grasp on the scarf tightens.

Only one way to find out.

***

“H – hey! Wait up!” Cat laughed, running after Cirrus at full speed. “Hello!” His snicker drifted back to her and she giggled, adrenaline-like excitement coursing through her. “C’mon, poor Minion can’t keep up!”

Dirty of her to use Minion against him, but this was never intended to be done fairly. Cirrus cast a glance over his shoulder to check; it was enough of a distraction for Minion (in his newly acquired and very fancy robot suit) to put on incredible speeds, bursting through the air to spring onto Cirrus’ back, laughing heartily while crying “Tag!” as loud as he possibly could.

Cirrus gasped. “Oh, you dirty tricksters!” he called, amusement in his voice as he came to a halting stop. “Fine, fine. I’ll wait for you.”

“You better,” Cat said, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at him. “What did you want to show me?”

He lit up, shining bright like the Milky Way. “My newest invention,” he breathed, breaking off from the path and into the undergrowth of the forest. “Come on!”

And Cat followed him, giggling, excited to see what his genius had come up with now.

She needs to get a date with someone important and she needs it now.

He’d said it on live TV – after turning up on a crime scene and fighting by the cops’ side it’d been announced, with nothing less than extreme and utter shock from the reporters, that he was resigning as a villain.

And now he’s taking up the role as Defender instead.

And he’ll be coming to the Gala with the Lord and Lady of Metro City.

And she’s not going to be there.

She looks through her closet five times before she settles on something that probably will attract a top-tier-of-stupidity man. She’ll be dumping him the moment she gets inside of the Gala, of course, but she needs to get in somehow.

She shakes her head and goes for the computer; time to google the most important men in the city, then.

But first – coffee. This is going to be a long night.

***

Autumn. A scarf in his hand, the cotton rough against his palm. Minion by his side, the glass cold against the back of his other hand.

She wasn’t there that day.

Or the next, or the next, or the one after that. Weeks passed by without a hint of her.

“Excuse me,” he asked the teacher, his heart sore and young and hurt, large enough to nearly choke him, “where’s Cat?”

And the teacher looked at him, ice and indifference in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said, carelessly, her gaze sliding over him and unto the class. “She quit, I suppose.”

His fingers tightened around the scarf, teeth clenching, Minion worriedly twisting beside him. “Okay,” he said, a hissed lie forced out through splintered hope.

He never saw her again.

It’s the night of the blasted gala that Minion pestered him into going to, and he’s dressed up in the finest suit possible. It had taken him almost three hours to settle on a design he liked, and even longer to find one that Minion agreed was “okay, I guess”.

He can’t exactly say he’s been excited for this ‘party’. Three plus hours of standing in crowds and talking to stuck-up assholes? No thank you. The gala is, however, meant to celebrate his turn from evil, and so he kind of have to show up.

His cheeks are hurting with how much fake-smiling he’s been doing. This must be hell. He can’t recall a time he was more bored than now. What are they even talking about? The weather? Goodness, he needs to get away from here. But how? There’s no polite way to break off the conversation!

Desperate for some kind of distraction – something, anything – he glances around the room. Perhaps there’s some kind of… commotion, someone speaking too loudly… nothing? Not even a potted plant someone might accidentally stumble in?

Megamind freezes. There’d been a flash – brief, through the crowd, a searching gaze –

and it’s been years, but he has photographic memory and one doesn’t forget the lips that formed the first smile one ever saw that easily –

“Excuse me,” he mutters, flapping his hand vaguely dismissively towards the three stuck-up assholes he’d been roped into conversing with.

If she has any complaints, they’re drowned by the crowd. He disappears into it, pushing gently as he tries to make his way for the flash of familiar brown. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters distantly, his ears starting to ring, “pardon me – ”

Why are there so many brown-haired women here tonight?

Maybe he was wrong – maybe it’s just wish-thinking –

but no! There it is again! He pushes onward, the crowd splits, he stumbles forward and taps her shoulder –

she turns around and isn’t Cat.

“Oh,” Megamind says, his voice far too close to shattering for his liking. The woman, whose eyes are crystal blue and so, so, wrong, tilts her head curiously. “I… sorry, I thought you were…”

“Cirrus!” a voice cries.

And Megamind’s heart grows wings. He spins on his heels, because only two people in the whole world knows about that, and he recognizes that voice –

a hauntingly familiar person is bolting towards him, tearing through darkness and shadows on her way, light bursting from behind her and she’s carried on wings of gold –

“Cat,” Megamind breathes, and he can’t believe it, he can’t believe it –

He takes two staggering steps in her direction and then she slams into him, arms wrapping around his torso and face burying in his shoulder, warm and real and there.

“You’re here,” she whispers, and the words are audible to him only because she’s so close. “You’re here, you’re really here, I found you – ” She pulls back suddenly, as though burned, and Megamind realizes too late that he should probably have hugged her back. Cat peers into his eyes, so terribly uncertain and so incredibly happy. “Do you remember me?”

It’s a question that trembles in the air between them.

“Rem – remember you?” Megamind stutters, hands fluttering by his side as he tries to remember what’s okay to do. Does he put them on her shoulders – does he cup her cheeks? Take her hands? “Come, come with me – ” He grabs her sleeve, uncertain about touching her skin without her permission, and tugs her towards the hallway he knows is deserted.

She follows easily – trustingly – and only makes a vague, curious noise when they disappear into the shadows. Well – dimly lit corridor is more accurate. They stand there for a brief second, just – staring. Megamind takes in her looks, makes sure to memorize them once again – the mark there on her face is new, he needs to remember that –

he gives in to the voice screeching inside him and lurches forward to hug her. Holding her lightly, light, afraid of shattering her or scaring her away –

but she flings her arms around his neck and holds on so tightly that it’s almost like she expects him to run.

“Remember you?” Megamind whispers, one of his hands curling around the loose strands of her hair. “Cat, there hasn’t been a day where I don’t think about you – ”

She breathes, shuddery, and Megamind’s heart beats in time with it. “Oh, thank Gods,” she whispers. “I’ve missed you – so much – ”

“What happened?” Megamind whispers. He wants to look at her, but he can’t let go, not now – “When you – you disappeared, I was so worried –”

Cat sighs a disgruntled sigh. “We had to run away,” she admits. “Dad angered someone without knowing it – we lived on edge for weeks before they came after us.” She pulls back slightly, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “We’re safe now, though. Here. In your city.”

He’s not sure how it happens, but suddenly they’re kissing, and things are happening too fast for him to keep track of –

They’ve been separated for so long, years and decades passed by where they’ve longed, missed, needed –

and it feels right. This; her; it’s like he’s been meant to be by her side.

And when he wakes up the next morning, in her bed, in her apartment, he knows that he’ll be there as long as she wants him.

Judging by the way she smirks at him from across her coffee cup, he deems that to be a long, long time.

#megamind #a bond for life #meg og mitt #my writing

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thetaekswoon · 7 years

Text

NCT Lucas| Camp Counselor AU

You know I thought I would actually escape the bias wrecker trap that Lucas has put on all of us NCTzens for a minute there, but then whelp there he goes doing his dandy thing and I’m shook.

mentions of drinking

Yukhei:

Red Fox cabin: boys ages 7-8

Co-counselors with his bffl Mark LEE, so you can already tell that the Red Fox cabin that summer was quite a mess

It’s his first summer working at the sleepaway camp, and surprisingly, Lucas is one of the few counselors that weren’t actually campers before they became staff,

so that means that (besides mark who was the one who suggested that he put in a job application earlier that year) Lucas didn’t know anyone he was going to be working with at all.

At the start of staff training, Lucas began to feel really intimidated because practically everyone else knew their way around the camp grounds and already KNEW each other,

Lucas just kind of felt like an outsider, sometimes he even felt like quitting before the campers arrived for the first session.

, but then something changed after some wise words from seasoned camp director Leeteuk set Lucas in the right direction, and quickly he found himself opening up more to the rest of the staff and they adopted him into the camp family.

Lucas found himself befriending almost everyone at camp, even the CITs loved having him around!

and Lucas really liked hanging out with them. They were all close in age and they were required to stay for the whole summer just like the staff were, so he felt like he could connect even more with them,

That’s why as soon as cabin placement preferences opened up Lucas requested that he be a CIT leader.

sadly though, the reasons why he connected so well with the CITs was exactly why he wasn’t allowed to be their leader... In order to be a CIT leader you had to be several years older than the aged-out age of the CIT program, unfortunately Lucas was just too young.

He didn’t hang himself up over it though because he and Mark got placed into the same cabin together which was super freaking awesome, and he could still hang out with the CITs whenever he wanted really.

You can always see him giving CIT Chenle piggy back rides across the camp fields, goofing around and making fun of the other counselors

*cough cough* Johnny *cough cough*

When first moving their stuff into the Red Fox cabin, Lucas and Mark argued for what felt like an eternity over who got the top bunk,

“I got here first so its MINE”

“You dumbass how the hell are you going to even sit up in the morning without banging your head on the ceiling you’re too tall!” mark shouts at him.

Lucas did hit his head the next morning and then kindly asked Mark with as much dignity as he could find with the darkening purple bruise on his forehead, if they could switch beds.

... the whole time head counselor for the Red Fox cabin, Namjoon stands quietly in the back, shaking his head in his hands.

Lucas is one of the counselors that teaches the survival courses at the camp;

teaching all the campers in the course how to find/build shelter, start a fire, what plants are edible and whatnot,

, and honestly... Lucas freaking loves it!

He loves playing around deep in the woods everyday with the campers and coming back covered in dirt head to toe for lunch.

Lucas is kind of crazy in the woodsy aspect... he does insane stunts that with one misstep could end him up in the hospital

, he pretends to be a crab with a flaming torch in each hand walking sideways, and covers his neck and face in mud when the summer heat becomes a little too much for him to handle

lucas climbs up the trees like a monkey and isn’t afraid of going up too far

“It’s not fun unless you can see over anything” he tells Hani from the Mountain Lion cabin one day, and she gives him the look THAT look, you know what I’m talking about.

Everybody calls him the survival man and he just feeds into it... took on that whole aesthetic.

Lucas’ signature outfit is an open flannel shirt and tee, cargo shorts, and sunhat

not-so-hidden in a belt sheath, Lucas keeps his carving knives on him all the time as he walks around camp. He uses them to help the campers cut down small tree branches when building shelters,

, and sometimes when he’s bored he’ll pull out the knife and start carving funky shapes into pieces of wood he just finds around.

All the little boys love him btw.

They see him as this crazy giant of a jungle man who climbs trees and can make them laugh with all his hilarious impersonations.

, but Lucas is not all goofy and horsing around.

He is also pretty sharp and can sense the danger in a situation before it gets out of hand,

Like when a little Golden Eagle girl and her friends start pushing each other a little too close to their fire for Lucas’ liking, and when one of them trips Lucas is up and present in an instant to catch her from stumbling into the smoking pit.

He is really serious about safety especially when it comes to the safety of the campers.

This boy THIS BOY will FIGHT to get ahead of you in the dining hall lunch line on chicken nugget day, THIS BOY WILL PUSH beware. beware of nugget day in general tbh everyone is a bit frisky

Anyway...

You like Lucas

not like... like-like, but like as a friend.

See, when you met Lucas back during staff training you kind of felt bad for him, he was quick to make friends with people, but he had trouble getting into the camp spirit, accepting himself into the camp family

You couldn’t help but feel down when you saw that he would arrive to lunch late because he didn’t know the way to get back to the dining hall after morning sessions and how he sometimes looked awkward shifting on his feet, feeling like a giant in the room.

So of course, as in the camp spirit, you went ahead and introduced yourself to Lucas, even offered to help teach him some of the camp songs

, you noticed that he always stumbled through the words whenever a large group cheer broke out... which was often considering everyone was so excited to be back at camp for the summer.

and lucas was like, on his knees, bowing at you, thanking you so much because he doesn’t get it like whats with all the turtles, frogs and bees in camp songs like HOW DO YOU EVEN TELL THEM APART GOD

So after you manage to finally teach him some of the basic camp songs, you two kind of fall into a pleasant friendship with each other, but by no means are you guys super close or anything like that,

no, after staff training you two didn’t have as much time to spend together because you both taught different subject classes and survival skills and arts and crafts rarely had a need to interact with each other.

tbh Lucas is kind of popular and after that whole debacle during the start of the summer was overwith he started making a lot of really close friends with people all over camp, so he doesn’t always have the time to drop by and say hi,

, especially when Yuta, Jungkook and Rocky keep yelling out for him to join them on hikes across the ridge,

like how can he say no to that... he’s the jungleman, he revels in that kind of stuff.

That being said, Lucas still finds himself in the craft cabin every once and a while when he has his break, to come and sit with you and do some crafty things with the kids,

that boy can make a mean macaroni frame, can even put poor Eunwoo’s to shame

You never minded having Lucas visit you, it was nice to talk to him, Lucas could make anyone crack up with his facial expressions, though sometimes you’d get mad at him when he tracked in mud

Lucas liked doing crafts with you because it was a good change in scenery from the woods, and also... you know... he liked being able to hang out with you,

Though you could go HAM when people started cheering camp songs, overall you were a very chill person to be around, a real rock.

not to mention... you’re pretty.

So that’s why when Lucas needed a bunch of counselors to volunteer to go out on the survival campout with him, he asked you, and of course you said yes, not knowing at all what you got yourself into.

You had figured that the survival campout would be just like any other overnight that the campers go on, heck you’ve been on those before and have had an awesome time!

However what you weren’t expecting was no tents. no sleeping bags. nothing.

It was literally like a survival show out there, the campers who had been preparing for this campout all week, struggling to build a shelter they were going to sleep in with the materials they found around them before the sun went down.

WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU EVEN GOING TO SLEEP???

Lucas ran around the campsite, helping the kids, he didn’t mind the thought of sleeping bare to the elements, surrounded by ticks and mosquitos.

It took you a while to gather your bearings, but when you did, you set yourself to gathering firewood for the fire pit that the counselors attending the overnight would cook their hobo dinners on later that evening once all the campers whisked off to sleep.

It was dark by the time that you and the rest of the counselors on the trip could finally take a rest.

The campers, all full and resting peacefully in their shelters could finally be left alone for the rest of the night.

The counselor campsite was within sight of the camper’s site, but far enough away that they could speak freely without worry of waking somebody up.

The campsite, much to your relief, looked quite different from the camper’s. A truck bed was open and laid out with supplies and enough open space for at least two people to squish together and sleep on. On trees surrounding the area, colorful hammocks were strung up so that you didn’t have to sleep on the cold ground.

Counselors Jungkook and Yuta, were loudly whispering and scheming with each other, shuffling through their packed knapsacks Irene, Lucas and yourself were confused on what the hell they were up to,

, that was until Yuta, finally finding what he was looking for pulled out a three quarters full bottle of whiskey from his bag, and Jungkook a half empty bottle from his.

Now all of you knew that if the camp had found out you were drinking on their property, so close to the campers, the consequences would be severe, you’d most likely be fired immediately and asked to pack your things.

, but with the threat of a camp director making a visit all the way down to the campsite several miles away from the camp itself dismissed after they had already came to check up on everything before the sunset,

you all felt at ease to take sips from the bottle being passed around the campfire.

Before the whiskey, you had a few goosebumps over your arms and calves, but now you were warm and happy, drinking and joking around with your friends, you were suddenly happy that you accepted Lucas’ invitation to join the campout.

“How do y’all feel ‘bout goin down to the water, it’s close I think.” Jungkook stumbled over his words after downing a few shots worth of the liquor.

You were decently drunk by now, sitting around the campfire, you sat across from the two party boys, lucas and Irene on either side of you.

“You know I’m always down to try anythin Kook,” Yuta slurred as well, giving an overzealous wink to no one in particular.

“I don’t know if Irene can make it there guys...” You say, laughing at the senior counselor’s slumped over figure, she giggled and hiccuped at her name being mentioned.

“It’s ok guys I swear. I’m good, besides, somebody... someone needs to stay behind in case one of the *hiccup* campers *hiccup* needs somethin’“ She says with a face full of dirt.

“How you feelin’ girlie?” Yuta laughs at Irene trying to sit up.

“I’m swell,,, thanks.” She twirls her hair up into a ponytail and waves you all away, “You’re all good to go *hiccup* now.”

“Are you sure?” Lucas asks her. “You can handle it if someone needs help restarting their fire?”

Irene scoffs at him, “Leave me.” she says, and the four of you head down to the rocky beach area ten minutes away from the campsite.

The lake water looks pitch black, the moon shining brightly reflects down onto it, and you can can barely see the lights from the main camp waterfront across the lake.

You’re invisible.

Yuta and Jungkook take their shoes off and make for a running start into the freezing water. You stand behind watching the drunk fools horse around in the lake, laughing at them when Jungkook gets pulled under by the other boy,

You almost forget about him for a second there, until Lucas, besides you, starts taking off his clothes.

you gasp, “oh my gawd you’re not getting naked right now right? You know those fools will try and steal your clothes.”

He chuckles, “Nahhh, I just don’t wanna get my clothes wet.” he says and then, just in his underwear and socks, makes his way toward... the trees?

Only a second later he’s up in the air, climbing up one of the trees that line the lake so fast you almost missed it.

Lucas stretches out on the limb, testing its strength before shouting something you couldn’t quite hear and propelling himself into the water a few feet below.

you can’t help, but laugh at the wildman, and start taking some of your clothes off as well, then with the confidence that only alcohol can give you, you sprint straight into the water and you keep running as far as you can in it

Up past your shoulders you stop and cry out at how bone-chilling the water is.

You four drunken bastards goof around in the water for a while more together, at one point even attempting to play chicken,

you up on Lucas’ shoulders and staring Yuta, who was ready to pounce, in the eye, and alcohol wasn’t that smart of a mix.

Jungkook started to feel sick after Yuta, falling over, kicked him in the gut and requested that they go dry themselves off.

Sitting on the beach for a while you guys play in the sand, warming up and drying off from splashing around in the lake.

While before you were just slurring your words, by now drunk talk has commenced.

Yuta was spewing his and Jungkook’s cabin’s drama left and right, turns out a kid in Gray Wolf a few sessions ago was a proud bed wetter, used to show them the stains on his sheets before washing them out.

That story was followed by a bunch of ewws on your end, a bunch of laughs from Lucas, who then shared that Mark has apparently been known to on occasion complement his mother’s cooking in his sleep.

“I bet that she’s a phen-omen-al cook then. Her food must’ taste so good.” you say to the group

and then Lucas says, “probably not as good as you.” and LICKS YOUR FREAKING CHEEK. He freezes. and you’re for the lack of a better word right now shook af

“I need to collapse.” Jungkook states, clearly oblivious to what the hell just happened there... too drunk to even notice the commotion. “I’m climbing back to bed before I won’t be able to get there.”

“I’ll help yah from fallin’ on your face.” Yuta stands up after him, seemingly unknowing as well.

And now alone with Lucas, you’re speechless.

“um..*coughs* that was weird and uncalled for.” he jokes trying to break the silence,

“it was,” you agree.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s ok.” you tell him, still super confused. You fall into another silence again, the only noise is the sound of the low lake tide sloshing up against the rocks.

“This is totally not the time to say this, but I think your hair looks really pretty when it’s wet.” Lucas tells you, and when you turn to look at him you can’t help, but take in all of his handsome features.

He’s young, yes, but he’s built and toned. His eyes wide like and owl’s and soft looking hair.

you feel compelled to touch his hair.

And, so carefully, as to not get any sand in it, you raise your hand and start twirling a strand of it in your fingers. It’s really soft.

and then as things progress as they do when you are drunk and alone, suddenly you are half naked on a beach, kissing Lucas deeply on the mouth.

Theres sand and pebbles and his hands in your hair and it’s almost like you’re suffocating on each other’s tongues.

It doesn’t go much farther than that, not really. You wake up only a few hours later, the sun hasn’t even truly shown itself yet, on the small beach tangled in Lucas’ arms,,, and your bra is somewhere by your feet.

After shaking him awake you two stumble to put your clothes back on and look like you hadn’t just woken up from a drunk hookup on a beach, as fast as you could.

Back at the campsite, Yuta and Jungkook are snoring in the back of the pickup truck, Irene doing the same on the ground next to the fire pit, and all the campers seem to remain undisturbed from any of the incidents that took place the previous night.

Turning around to look back at Lucas you stifle a gasp and point to his neck,

just visible from under his collar are several dark marks.

“You need to cover those up!” You tell him, “If Leeteuk or another director sees those you could get in serious trouble.”

“I’ll sling a towel or something over my shoulder don’t worry about it.” and you nod.

“This isn’t weird right?” you ask him quietly, in case someone were to wake up.

“No, I don’t think so.” Lucas says to you.

It wasn’t awkward between the two of you, you were coworkers, but more importantly friends, much closer than you had previously thought in fact.

Lucas and you started to take apart the campsite, fold up the hammocks and stir the embers to ashes, one of the bodies in the back of the truck groans and scratches their back before going still again.

“Before we leave though I think we should clear the air though.” You say to Lucas quietly, “are we a thing now? Was that a one time thing or will it happen again? I’m just trying to close the case kinda if you know what I mean.” He laughs at you and you groan... your head still hurts.

“I don’t know.” he shrugs.

“Well I don’t know.” you shrug, and he shrugs again, making a face.

“I guess it would be nice.”

“Nice to...what?”

“I don’t know, whatever it is, we’ll see.” he says, and he playfully shrugs again at you.

Suddenly, Yuta looking like a mess, very much hungover and probably moving too fast for being so, sits up with his hair in his face looking out at the two of you from the truck bed.

“WAIT!” he says, wincing then proceeding to grab his head before looking back at you two,

“DID YOU TWO F-”

<><> do not edit/remove anything from the original post <><> this AU belongs to me <><>

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