#i should drop a ko-fi link cause good god damn

[chaos0pikachu]

Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

Short answer: No. anyways, in the following essay I will explain that James Cameron is a weeb...

(okay fine~~ lets actually do this)

TLDR: discussing what media globalization is, how fandom can distill it down to only American/European cinema, showcasing how a lot of current BL is influenced by countries within it's own proximity and NOT "the west" but each other, also James Cameron is still a weeb

I had seen a post that basically proposited that BL was being influenced by modern western romance tropes and had used things like omegaverse and mafia settings as an example. I found this, in a word, fucking annoying (oh, two words I guess) because it's micro-xenophobic to me.

It positions western - and really what we mean by this is American/European countries, we're not talking about South American countries are we? - cinema as the central breadbasket of all cinema in and of itself. Inherently, all following cinema must be in some way, shape, or form, influenced by American/European standards, and as such America/European countries are directly responsible for cinema everywhere else, and these places - namely non-white countries - do not influence each other, nor have their own histories in regards to storytelling or cinema and do not, in turn, also influence American/European film making either.

Now like, do I think all of that~~ is intentionally malicious thinking on behalf of folks in fandom? No, so chill out.

I do, however, think a lot of it is birthed from simple ignorance and growing up in an environment where ~The West~ is propagated to be central, individual, and exceptional as opposed to the monolith of "Asia" - by which we mean China, Korea, Japan don't we? How often in discussions of Asian countries is Iran, India, or Saudi Arabia brought up even tho they are all Asian countries? - or the monolith that is South America - in which some folks might believe regions like the Caribbean and/or Central America belong to, but nope there both North America.

Anyway, what we're talking about here is the concept of "media globalization":

"The production, distribution, and consumption of media products on a global scale, facilitating the exchange and diffusion of ideas cross-culturally." (source)

"The media industry is, in many ways, perfect for globalization, or the spread of global trade without regard for traditional political borders. [...] the low marginal costs of media mean that reaching a wider market creates much larger profit margins for media companies. [...] Media is largely a cultural product, and the transfer of such a product is likely to have an influence on the recipient’s culture." (source)

Typically when I see fandom discussing what falls under MG the topic is usually focused on how "the west" is influencing Thai/Korean/Chinese/Japanese media.

Enter, Pit Babe.

Surely Pit Babe was influenced by Supernatural right? Omegaverse is huge in the west - love it, hate it, meh it - it originated in the west - specifically via Supernatural after all.

Nah.

Omegaverse has been popular in Japan and China for almost a decade, if not longer. The earliest omegaverse manga I can think of is Pendulum: Juujin Omegaverse by Hana Hasumi which was released in 2015, almost a decade ago.

(what if you added furries into omegaverse? WHAT IF?? - Japan)

There's countless popular omegaverse manga too, and the dynamics only moderately resemble the ones we're familiar with in the west. Juujin is part omegaverse and part furry/beastmen - the alphas are all beastmen the omegas are humans - while something like Ookami-kun Is Not Scary only slightly resembles omegaverse dynamics as a hybrid series - beastmen are really popular in Japan in part b/c of historical mythology (you see the combination of romantic Beastmen and Japanese culture & folklore in Mamoru Hosoda's work The Boy and the Beast and Wolf Children).

Megumi & Tsugumi (2018) is so popular they're an official English edition published by VIZ's imprint SuBlime and that's a straight up omegaverse story.

(look at the omega symbol on the cover loud and proud baby)

So if Pit Babe was influenced by anything, it certainly wasn't "the west" it was Japan, Korea and China. Because those countries have a thriving omegaverse sub-genre going and have had such for 10 plus years now. Supernatural is popular in Japan, yes, and that may be where Japan and Japanese fans originally found omegaverse as a fictional sub-genre.

HOWEVER

Japanese fans took the sub-genre, bent it, played with it, and evolved it into their own thing. As such, other countries in their proximity, like Thailand, China, and Korea who read BL and GL manga, found it and were like "hey, we wanna play too!"

(is that an omegaverse yuri novel I spy?? yes, yes it is)

When I watched the Red Peafowl trailer, it had more in common with Kinnporsche, History: Trapped, along with films and shows like: Jet Li's The Enforcer, and Fist of Legend, Donnie Yen's Flash Point, Raging Fire, and Kung Fu Jungle, Han Dong-wook's The Worst of Evil, Kim Jin-Min's My Name, Lee Chung-hyeon's The Ballerina, Baik's Believer & Believer 2, Yoshie Kaoruhara's KeixYaku, popular Don Lee films The Gangster, the Cop and the Devil and Unstoppable alongside BL manga like Honto Yajuu and Bi No Isu (probably one of the most well known yazuka manga to date).

Like, we're seeing a rise in mafia based BLs and people think that's because of "western influence" and not the absolute insane success of kinnporsche??? Especially in countries like China, Korea, Taiwan, Philippines and other Asian countries???

Mafia films and gang shows aren't even that popular here in America/Europe; don't get me wrong, they still get made and exist, but the last full length film was The Irishman which did not make it's budget back, and while Power is still on-going it's not a smash hit either. The heyday of Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, The Wire, Goodfellas, and Scarface are long gone. And if you've watched any those shows or films they have very little in common with Kei x Yaku, Kinnporsche, or Red Peafowl in tone, or style.

(who knew martin just wanted to make his al pacino/robert de niro fanfic come to life all these years?)

Another example, The Sign, which is clearly taking inspiration from Chinese costume dramas: Ashes of Love, Fairy and Devil, White Snake (and it's many adaptions), Guardian, & Ying Yang Master Dream of Eternity. Alongside Hong Kong and Korean cop and romance shows like Tale of the Nine-Tailed, Hotel Del Luna, Director Who Buys Me Dinner, First Love, Again, and previously mentioned cop dramas.

Like, I know y'all don't think Twins is influenced by, what, American sports classic Angels in the Outfield?? Gridiron Gang?? Rocky?? Nah that shit is inspired by the popularity of sports manga like Haikyuu!!, Slam Dunk, Prince of Tennis (which even has a Chinese drama adaption), and the like. And also probably History 2, & Not Me but I'm like 87% sure Twins is just Haikyuu fanfic.

So like, does this mean that there's NO history in which American and European cinema influenced these countries? What, no, obviously that's not true, American/European totally have had media influence on countries like Korea, Japan, etc.

Astro Boy by Osamu Tezuka considered "the father of manga" was inspired by Walt Disney's work on Bambi. Another more recent and prominent example is director Yeon Sang-ho and his film Train to Busan.

"And it was Snyder’s movie [Dawn of the Dead, 2004], not the 1978 original, that filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho recalled as his first encounter with the undead. “That was when I started my interest in zombies,” Yeon said, in an email interview through a translator from South Korea. Even today, he added, ��it’s the most memorable and intense zombie movie I’ve ever seen.”" (source)

HOWEVER, the global influence doesn't stop there. It's not a one-way street. Yeon Sang-Ho was inspired by Zack Synder's Dawn of the Dead, a remake of George Romero's own work, but Yeon Sang-Ho's work has inspired countless Korean film makers to make their own zombie media; following Train to Busan there's been: Kingdom (2019 - current), All of Us Are Dead (2022), Zombie Detective (2020), Zombieverse (2023), Alive (2020), Rampant (2018).

And hey, wouldn't you know it now we're starting to see more zombie media coming out of places like Japan (Zom 100 the manga, movie, and anime) and High School of the Dead.

Do you know what Domundi's series Zombivor (2023, pilot trailer only) reminds me of? It's NOT The Walking Dead (which is the only relevant zombie media America has created in the last decade) it's Korea's All of Us Are Dead (2022). Comparing the trailers, the settings, the tone, it's clear where Zombivor is pulling inspiration from: Korean zombie cinema. NOT American zombie cinema.

In fact a lot of Domundi's shows - Cutie Pie, Middleman's Love, Naughty Babe, Bed Friend - are all very clearly inspired by Korean filmmaking, specifically that of romantic kdramas from the 2016 - 2020 era. Not always in story, but rather in technique.

This is media globalization. It's not simply ~The West~ influencing non-American/European countries but countries who are often more close in terms of: proximity, culture, and trade are going to have more influence on each other.

It is far more likely that Aoftion (Naughty Babe, Cutie Pie, Zombivor) was influenced by watching Train to Busan, All of Us Are Dead, and other Korean zombie shows and films than a single episode of Walking Dead.

My point isn't that this goes one way only, but rather it is very literally a global thing. This includes American and European film makers being influenced by non-American and European cinema.

Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, Darren Aronofsky, Christopher Nolan, the Wachowski sisters, George Lucas and James Cameron have all been influenced by Japanese film making, especially the works of Akira Kurosawa, Satoshi Kon, and Mamoru Oshii.

John Wick's entire gun-fu sub-genre is heavily influenced by classic Hong Kong action films, specifically John Woo films. Legend of Korra, The Boondocks, Voltron, Young Justice, My Adventures with Superman are all obviously inspired by Japanese anime but animated by a Korean animation studio (Studio Mir). Beyond that, the rise in adult animated dramas like Castlevania, Critical Role Vox Machina, and Invincible to name a few are very clearly taking inspiration from anime in terms of style. The weebs that were watching Adult Swim's Inuyasha, Bleach, and Dragon Ball Z have grown up and are now working in Hollywood.

Okay so like, what's the point of all this? What's the issue? Since American/European cinema does influence et all cinema does any of this really matter?

YES.

I take contention with this line of thinking because it centers "the west" and our supposed individual importance way to much. Declaring definitively that "BL is being influenced by western tropes" and then including tropes, narratives, and film making styles that aren't inherently western and actually have major roots in the cinema of various Asian countries, removes the existence of individual history these countries have which are rich, varied, and nuanced. It removes the "global" part of globalization by declaring "the globe" is really just America and Europe.

It distills these countries down to static places that only exist when American/European audiences discover them.

BL doesn't exist in a vacuum you can trace the development of Korean BL to the development of Korean het dramas almost to a T. You can also trace their development to the queer history of each country and how Thailand interacts culturally with China, Japan, Korea, etc and vice versa. It also ignores the history of these countries influencing American cinema as well. Don't mistake "the globe" for only your sphere of experience.

Anyway James Cameron is a damn weeb y'all have a good night.

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[lazylazyhowl]

prehension (of snakes and cherry blossoms)

prehension (noun) – gripping firmly, apprehension by the senses; understanding

["See me." In the dead of night, the line between far shore and near shore, blurs.

They meet, and it's 23 years too late; but they might as well.]

Written with SasuSakuTwitFest Day 2 (Connected) in mind.

AO3 Link

ko-fi

—

Have you heard about building B?

.

A peeling coat of faded yellow paint, partly overtaken by chalk graffiti and moss. The building is a little worn and faded, more obviously ill-maintained compared to the rest of the school.

Classes haven’t been held here for years now, ever since a newer building was founded right next to it.

The hallways are lined with locked doors. There are crisscrossing caution tapes blocking off stairways, and the dust-caked windows are bolted shut, leaving the air thick and musty.

.

A senior died there twenty years ago. They say the ghost of that student still walks those empty corridors even now.

.

.

.

It’s when she’s wandering through the east wing of the second floor that Sakura comes across him in one of the storage rooms.

Rows of stacked desks and chairs are pushed against the wall at the side, and miscellaneous items crowd the cobwebbed shelves. He’s sitting by the window on the opposite side of the entrance, chin in his palm as he stares out the dirty, moon-glazed glass.

He seems to be a senior, but she can’t be sure. The colored tie that’s supposed to set the grades apart is missing from his uniform ensemble.

Sakura’s heart has jumped from sheer surprise upon catching sight of him in the corner; now it begins to speed for an altogether different reason.

He has a sharp profile and endless dark eyes that’s framed by long thick lashes. His equally dark hair contrasts a pale skin, washed colorless by the moonlight, and millions of dust particles float lazily around him.

It’s an otherworldly sight that sends goosebumps up the sides of her arms, and her better instincts tell her to leave immediately and leave him be.

Still, her feet remain glued to the spot by the door as she smooths clammy palms against the knitted sweater she wears over her uniform.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say it was love at first sight. Quite a loaded situation for lightning to be striking, too, and there’s no sense to it at all. She just knows he’s taken her heart without having to lift a finger.

“Annoying…”

She hears him mutter. His voice is deep, so quiet that she might have missed it if not for the silence.

“You there.”

Before Sakura can react, the boy turns his head and looks straight at her.

.

.

If you ever come across the ghost, no matter what you do, never look it in the eyes.

.

She gasps and takes a step back, her puny heart leaping to the hollow of her throat.

When he drops down from his perch, his height unfurls. He’s probably a good head taller than her. With the moon at his back, his eyes don’t glow in the dark or anything, not even the slightest glimmer, but she senses the weight of cold lead from them all the same.

.

You’ll meet a terrible end.

.

“Those eyes are quite something,” he says, and Sakura hastily lowers her gaze away, her stomach twisting into nauseous knots. Oh god, oh god, what has she done? She shouldn’t have looked, shouldn’t have dallied around.

“I-I’m sorry.”

She sees his shadow on the gritty tiled floor, looming closer, and considers fleeing. But then again, she has a feeling she wouldn’t get very far.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, wringing her shaky fingers together. “For staring. I’m so sorry.”

“Look at me.” He’s still approaching her, and she begins to make out the mud on his shoes, how his uniform is disheveled in that rolled-around-in-in-the-dirt way, opened at the neck to reveal the strong lines of his collarbones.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. Lift your face.”

Sakura shakes her head no and squeezes her eyes closed for good measure. She hears him sigh.

“Sasuke.”

Though it was out of nowhere, what startles Sakura more is that his voice has come from right in front of her. She can feel him, well inside her personal space and blocking the moonlight.

Her heart is in overdrive. She blindly takes a step back and almost trips over herself.

“Wh-what?”

“Name?”

She puts a hand to her chest to try and contain the beating there. Her thoughts are a jumbled mess. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Name. Yours.”

It takes her a moment more before she finally gathers her wits. “S-Sakura…”

“Sakura, huh.” He says her name in this slow, considering drawl, and Sakura flushes anew. Can he see her blush? Can he see the effect he has on her? What will he do, knowing this? She tugs at the long sleeves of her sweater and brings them up to hide her face. She never thought it to be the case, but she’s exactly the type to get tricked by men, isn’t she?

“U-um, Sasuke…san?”

“Drop the ‘san.’”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing, annoying.”

“I’m so—okay…” Sakura cringes, her head sinking between her shoulders. She can still feel his gaze on her, feel self-conscious about her large, sweaty forehead, and every strand of hair that’s out of place. Having her eyes closed only makes it worse. “Sasuke…kun…then?”

He makes a noise in his throat, and it’s hard to tell if he’s displeased or not.

“You shouldn’t stay here, Sakura.”

She loves it, Sakura decides, when he uses her name, regardless of context. It sends this warm fluttering down to the pit of her belly.

“…Well, neither should you,” she says from behind her sleeves. “…Sasuke-kun.” She tests and can't help another rush of heat in her cheeks.

Sasuke’s silent for a length before saying, “Fair.”

“Let’s both leave then,” he says, and it takes her a moment to respond.

“Huh?”

“You and I. Let’s leave here together.”

She’s not sure what to say to that, not even sure if she quite understands, but she can’t deny she likes how he’s said it.

She likes it a lot.

“Sakura.” Her skin ripples again. When he says nothing else, she cracks her eyes open to take in the chest of his shirt, missing a few buttons; the hand that’s he’s holding out to her. (There’s dried blood on his knuckles, under his nails.)

“No?” He presses, and she wants to shake her head and tell him it’s not even close to no. It’s scary how much she wants to take that proffered hand, damn the consequences. And because of exactly that she holds back, tucks her hands closer to her chest to restrain herself.

“I…”

She watches with a held breath as his hand looms so near she can make out the callused spots on his palm and smell burnt smoke on top of the rust of blood. His fingers skirt near her chin, her windpipe, but not quite touching.

“Look at me,” he stresses, “when you speak.”

“No…I…”

“Our eyes already met. What are you still holding back for?”

Her breaths grow shallow as her pulses quicken into deafening booms. Sakura can’t find fault with his argument, though she’s not sure if it isn’t just because she’s also tempted for justification to look at him again.

(A part of her hopes, maybe the curse can be reversed by pretending their eyes never met.)

“It’ll be fine,” he says, and she’s so tempted to believe him.

Sakura swallows, her mouth dry. Her eyes dart tentatively up a few times before she finds it in her to look at him. (She has to crane her neck to even meet his gaze.) Her chest tightens as she stares into his eyes, transfixed by their depths. Most of all, his mouth quirks in this little pleased, knowing smirk, and it’s unfair.

“Come with me, Sakura.”

That’s unfair, too.

Sakura doesn’t think she’s afraid of him anymore. Never was, actually. But what he’s offering is unknown to her, and that’s scary. Leave with him to where? For what purpose other than just deserting this forsaken building?

“I don’t know how.” Sakura looks away. She’s aware that she’s not saying no, and the reality is that she no longer cares.

She just wants to be with someone so badly she might have followed anyone else, and Sasuke—Sasuke feels right. Perhaps this back and forth between them has only ever had one ending.

He holds out his hand to her, gesturing for her to just take it. She unclenches her fists.

“It’ll be okay?”

“Aa.”

“Promise me-” Her voice cracks. She screws her eyes shut and sucks in a breath as if all her unshed tears would disappear along with it. “Sasuke-kun. Promise me you’ll be okay, ‘cause I can’t-”

“Promise.”

His gaze is unwavering. Sakura chews at her lower lip. When her fingertips hover over his and hesitate, he only patiently waits, and it gives her that extra shred of confidence. With one last steadying breath, she slides her hand onto his and gasps audibly from the feel of his skin against hers.

His palm is rough like she’s imagined. Large.

So warm.

Human.

It’s been too long—twenty-three years in fact, since she last felt another’s touch, and the sudden swell of emotions is enough to choke her.

Sasuke’s strong fingers encase hers, interlace with hers and the firm grip brings such immense relief that she only knows to burst into tears.

“You’re with me from now on,” he tells her as he wipes at her cheek with his thumb, and she sobs harder. Through the blur of tears, Sakura can see him smile, see his eyes bleed a haunting, spinning red. They’re beautiful. Hypnotic. As if she isn’t already ensnared in his web.

“Okay.” She grips back at his hand just as firmly.

And she thinks, they will be okay after all.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Omake:

The school ground is quiet as they slip out through a broken window on the first floor, and Sakura can’t help but be nervous as she takes her first step past a point that up until just yesterday she wasn’t able to cross.

She’s tried to leave many, many times, only for her legs to freeze and her mind to be overcome with an irrational need to retreat to the very heart of the building. Where she belonged. Alone.

None of that tonight. Sakura passes building D and reaches the quad, drinking in her surrounding in quiet wonder as she trails behind Sasuke.

A lot has changed from the school in her memory, but the general layout is still the same, from where the statue of the town’s founder proudly stands, to the red eaves that hang over the guard office. They overlap with her hazy memories and fills her with a familiarity that eases her nerves.

Building A is still there as well, looking only a little less rundown compared to her building.

(Hers. No matter how lonely, it had been home.)

Sakura looks to the boy at her side; her new haunt, her tether. (Hers.) She still knows nothing about him beyond the name Sasuke. And those red eyes that have faded back to black soot is sure to be a loaded topic, too.

There are many things she wants to ask him, but she decides she’ll take her time learning. The truth is she has nothing but time.

“What?”

She's all giddy from that single glance he spares. Does he have to be so cool from every angle? Her gaze drops to his bloodied knuckles.

“Do your hands hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Did you hurt them breaking into the building?”

“No.”

Sakura tries to contain an amused grin. She can see him being quite a frustrating conversational partner in the future, but for now she’s quite enjoying it. “How did you hurt yourself then?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, and she can see the cogwheels working rapidly behind his faraway gaze. “Trash disposal,” he tells her, a full ten seconds later that she has to wonder what exactly he’s filtered out before coming to that answer. He pats her head. “Don’t worry about it. I clean up pretty well.”

As they leave the school ground and continue walking in silence, Sakura thinks about the smoke she’s smelled on him. Has she gotten involved with a pretty dangerous person after all?

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

WARNING: Elsanna. Sensual footrub. Also, copious fluffiness elsewhere.

As I said in my Queen of Temperance update, it's going to be a little slower during November due to NaNo. Also, if you want to help me avoid bankruptcy you can donate to me at: Ko-Fi dot com slash jxsleator!

CHAPTER 10

The next morning, Anna was awoken by a gentle hand in the small of her back. It took her a few minutes for the state of her life to come back to her, but eventually the details filtered into her brain. And they began to stir the most wonderful glow of happiness in the middle of her chest.

"Mmmmhhh," she moaned into the pillow, eyes still closed but lips beginning to pull into a smile. "God, sexy, let me wake up enough to go down on you first."

"Oh? Well, with an offer like that, maybe I can delete my profile."

Anna's eyes shot wide. That was definitely not Jennifer. She didn't even have to guess who it was. Gulping, she slowly rolled over onto her back, gazing up at Elsa's bemused face. She could feel the cool air of late Autumn on her bare chest and shoulders, only somewhat deterred by the heating.

"I… um…"

"Thought I was Jennifer," she finished easily for her, being kind enough to suppress her belly laugh. "Still, you might want to be more careful who you say things like that to, Anna."

"MOM! Shit, I didn't mean- holy Christ, I'm sorry! Damn… how hard did I crash that I couldn't even tell it was you?"

One of her shoulders shrugged. Now she could tell that Elsa was fully-dressed, and she normally wouldn't be on a Sunday morning – either version of her. Though occasionally that other Mom made it to church, even then she wouldn't look this nice. "Probably pretty hard after all that screaming last night."

Instantly, Anna's face heated up. She also became intimately aware that she was still naked, that her breasts were responding to the cool morning air. And Elsa hadn't looked away. She wasn't staring down Anna's boobs, but they would most definitely have been in her periphery.

Elsa seemed to become aware of it at the same moment, because she took a step back from the bed. "Just wanted to let you know that I'll be out of the house for most of the morning. I have a few errands to run but I'll be back later."

"Ugh, you couldn't have just left a message?" Anna complained, rolling over. Yep, there was Jennifer, the little spoon and still fast asleep.

"I could have, but this was more fun," Elsa laughed. Anna gave a groan and pressed her head further into Punz's back.

"Bye, Mom."

Elsa's chuckle could be heard all down the hallway. Then, there was the sound of the front door opening and closing, and finally, quiet. Anna took a breath, then sighed… and was completely shocked when Punz sat up, very obviously not asleep.

"Well… that was super awkward."

"You were awake?" Anna groaned feebly, still trying to burrow into the waistband of Punz's jeans. They had never come off, though everything else had.

"Yeah. Um… I kinda figured it would be easier if I just kept my mouth shut and waited for her to leave, instead of turning around and showing your mom my nip-nops."

"True. Like… ugh, I really thought she was you, since I fell asleep next to you… how dumb am I? I was already hugging you, that doesn't make any sense!"

Punz giggled and rolled more fully to embrace her. "Not dumb. Sleepy. It's okay, you know." Then she pressed a very gentle kiss to Anna's nose, eyes dancing with humour. "It was cute, and funny. Don't sweat it, McFly."

"Well…" There was really no point in fighting her on that. Shrugging one shoulder, she drew her girlfriend in for a long hug. "I guess even though my mom had to stare at my boobs while she teased me about screaming last night is still better than how my old mom would have reacted."

At that, she heard another sigh from Punz – this one a lot less amused. "Yeah… not that I know what she's like from personal experience, but… sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah. I'm glad I messed up the timeline thing, I guess. Weird and unhealthy as letting her go down on me was, it kind of… fixed my life. For the most part."

"It hasn't come without some problems though…" Punz commented. Anna shrugged.

"Trust me when I say that this is much better than before."

Punz merely looked at her for a second before saying, "Okay." Just like that. There was an awkward silence shared between them before it became too great, and Punz broke it. "So, breakfast? What do you feel like?"

Chuckling, Anna rolled so she could more properly look at her girlfriend. "You," she said simply before kissing her. Punz didn't have a single complaint.

                                ~ o ~

By the time they actually got out of bed, it was no longer time for breakfast and was actually venturing past brunch and well into a full-fledged lunch. Luckily, Elsa wasn't around to further poke fun at them. Good-natured as it was, Anna preferred to avoid further embarrassment. Which was probably why she still wasn't back yet, to be fair; she could be remarkably perceptive like that.

Once they had dug up some cereal and fixed themselves a couple of bowls, they took turns showering quickly – still a little shy of each other to jump right into sharing a bath like that. Elsa came back while Punz was still finishing in the bathroom, and Anna was seated in the living room watching TV, to give her space. She had a couple of bags of things, and Anna popped up to help her.

"Thank you," she said with a slight smile as they got the bags onto the kitchen counter. "Whoo… sometimes I want to sign up for one of those delivery services, but it just seems like such a waste of money."

"Yeah, I guess." Elsa McFly, even just contemplating not doing something for herself, sounded very odd to her ears.

"How did you two get along while I was gone? Sleep in a bit more?"

"Um, yeah. A little. Then we ate breakf- uhhh, brunch, and Punz is just finishing her shower."

The coy smile was back. She knew it wouldn't stay away for long. "Surprised you didn't join her."

"We thought about it. But… I dunno, we're… taking our time, kind of. Spacing out the big events or whatever."

"I get you." After putting away a loaf of sweet brioche, which Anna didn't even know what that was much less expect her mother to get one, she turned and cupped her cheek. "Please don't feel weird about any of this. I just want you two to feel comfortable here. Safe, accepted."

Anna's eyes fell down. She appreciated the sentiment, and couldn't help the smile that formed when Elsa leaned forward to kiss her softly on the forehead. "Thanks, Mom," she said. "I mean, I don't think we'll be able to talk Mrs Punzel into being this cool. Though I think we'll wait for you to uh… not be here next time."

"Perhaps that would be for the best." The shower stopped running, and Elsa dropped her hands. Giving a smile, she returned to the other side of the counter. "Now, why don't you help your poor old mother put away the groceries?" she asked. Anna snorted.

"Please, Mom, you're not that old. And even if you are, like… daaaaamn."

Instead of admonishing her for cursing, Elsa just winked.

                                ~ o ~

Ten minutes later saw Punz join them, hair damp but drying, wearing a cute outfit that the other version of Jennifer Punzel would never have been caught dead in. There was flannel. It was hot.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked with a slight grin as Elsa brewed them some tea. Punz dropped into a chair at the dinner table with a grin.

"From your closet, dumbass. Why, do you like it?" When Anna nodded, her grin got even wider. "I'm glad."

"It suits you," Elsa said from the kitchen. Punz started a little. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

But Jennifer shook her head. "N-nah, it's your house. I just jumped since you were gone when I woke up."

Letting out a soft, contented sigh, Anna reached across the table and took up both of her girlfriend's hands, squeezing them and staring into her eyes. It didn't take very long to see her relax. Then she said, "I should have warned you; that's on me."

"I said it's fine, God!" But she was smiling again. "Anyway, what did I miss?"

"Not much," Elsa called out to them. "Groceries. And you two don't have to feel like you need to hang around here all day just to keep me company; I'd love to entertain you, but I could just as easily get some work around the house done while you're out."

With a light shrug, she asked, "What do you think, Punz?"

Once more, Punz started, though this was more from surprise than shock. It wasn't until Elsa stood in the door to the kitchen, a tea towel in one hand and a wet glass in the other that she started to answer.

"I uh, well," she began. "I don't really- I was thinking… you're cooler than I thought you'd be."

The final few words were said in such a rush that Anna almost missed it. Elsa did not. Her cheeks pinked, a very faint colour that gave away just how pleased she was at the compliment, and her hands stilled. Punz had blushed a little, as well – she probably hadn't meant to tell Elsa at all, but out it came.

Luckily, Anna was there to at least attempt to dispel the awkwardness with a, "So, I guess the 'hang with Mom' votes have it." She gave a grin that tried to be cheeky but was slightly closer to 'uneasy'. It was a combination of the conversation this morning and the way Elsa had held her before that was the cause.

"Well, then," Elsa said, returning to the glass. It was absolutely dry by now, but no one wanted to mention it. "Why don't I finish what I'm doing and you girls can think of something for us to do?"

She didn't wait for a response, instead simply turning on her heel and retreating out of sight. In a much quieter voice, Anna whispered, "You really wanna hang out with my mom? I mean… I'm game for it if you are, but you don't have to just for me. Seriously."

"Nah, it's cool. I mean, she's always seemed like a good mom to you and that kind of thing, but I never… well, she's old. OldER! She's so much older that I didn't expect to enjoy hanging out with her more than with my own mom, I guess."

By that point, Anna was trying not to burst out laughing in her face. Deciding to be productive instead of making Punz feel any worse, she leaned in and kissed her cheek. "It's a good thing. So what do you think? Maybe we all go out to dinner, or… I dunno, bowling? What do you do with your suddenly-not-terrible mom and your girlfriend?"

"Um, you got me. Another movie? But at a theater this time? What did your mom like to do in the 80s?"

'Me,' Anna thought with slight skip over a heartbeat. But she decided that was better left unsaid. "Well, I don't think she'd be interested in another house party. Let's start with going out for lunch and figure it out from there?"

                                ~ o ~

So that's precisely what they did. Simple food at Applebee's, then they ended up popping into a Goodwill for an hour or so. Both Elsa and her daughter could better appreciate some of the 80s styles and artefacts, and Jennifer laughed to watch them with this new shared interest. She sneakily got them an old Bangles vinyl, and they both gushed over it enough to make it clear it had been a good choice.

Anna felt a lot of mixed feelings when her girlfriend emerged from the dressing room wearing a tube top and a leather miniskirt. All she could think of was Elsa, and in the wrong ways. Of course, Elsa's only reaction was to laugh and clap, then remark that the look suited her; she didn't seem to hold those same feelings that it was too reminiscent of their 'affair' from the past. Which only made sense, given those fashion choices had simply been a part of life for her all the time, not specifically tied to a week-long affair.

Then they settled on a bowling alley to cap off their night. As it turned out, Elsa and Kristoff had spent a lot of evenings this way, and she wiped the floor with the younger girls. Maybe she wasn't good enough to go professional, but it was enough to discourage them slightly.

"I'm sorry," the woman was laughing at their dejected faces as they picked at the pizza they had ordered sent to their lane. "Best of five?"

The girls didn't do any better than before, but after the first game neither were actually trying to win. It was all just about having fun – and they did. When Anna slipped on the waxed floor, crashing onto her butt and just sitting there afterward, both Elsa and Punz simply looked at each other for a second before breaking into laughter. Anna had acted affronted, but really she was just grateful that her mother and her girlfriend were getting along as well as they were.

It certainly made the pain in her backside worth it – doubly so when she hobbled over to them, grumbling, and they both tried to make her feel better with hugs and a few light cheek-kisses. It certainly worked.

In the end, Elsa completely annihilated them, but there were no hard feelings whatsoever. Seeing Elsa so full of life wasn't so strange anymore – seeing her actually living was, a bit.

"I kinda wanna do this every weekend," Anna said as they sat down to pull their shoes off.

"Perhaps not every weekend," her mother said with a pleasant smile, taking a moment to rub one of her feet before she slipped her own shoes back on, setting the bowling shoes in the seat next to her. "But now and then, I think it makes for a wonderful change of pace."

Nodding vigorously, Jennifer paused to take a long drink of her soda. "Like, might get boring if we did it all the time. But we could do other stuff! Of course, Merida and Jane might start to get jelly. Or we could invite them along…"

"I don't think that'd work the same way, Punz," Anna laughed.

"Why not?"

"Because… I mean, they don't know about the, um…"

She glanced at Elsa, who was gazing back at her with a knowing gleam. It made her want to kiss her. Even after everything they had been through that weekend, she still felt that slight pull… probably always would. But she could resist. That was what she was learning, thanks to her mother's years of expertise: knowing they wanted to do things, but also knowing it wasn't required.

"Ah… good point," Punz was saying as she finished pulling on her sneakers and standing up. "But hey, they don't know what they're missing."

"Well, thank you very much, Jennifer," Elsa said, and Anna could tell she meant it. The small, sweet smile gave it away. "Now then, I think we should drop you off and head home. Or…"

"Or?"

"Or we could drop by a frozen yoghurt stand before we call it a night?"

There was no complaint from either girl. The cheeky smile on Elsa's face was infectious, and only a little unexpected now. It seemed that Punz wasn't the only one surprising Anna. If she has to guess, she'd say that Elsa also enjoyed spending time with Jennifer.

The thought made sure her smile didn't vanish, and it remained on her face all the way to the local froyo place. It was new – at least, it hadn't existed in the other McFly timeline. It was a cute place, too; kitsch and cozy, It was also quite empty. The only other person around was a bored, bespectacled teenager who frankly seemed a little too excited that they finally had customers.

Punz chose a seat close to the window – not that much could be seen. The sun had set and Anna hadn't realised how late it had become. The time had flown by so effortlessly while she'd been surrounded by her girlfriend and her mother. It was nice. Really, it was better than she had dared to dream.

The good feeling followed them both all the way back to the Punzel house, and was only very slightly marred by Anna having to say goodbye to her for the day. Tomorrow, they would be in class together.

On the way home, Anna leaned her head on Elsa's shoulder and she wasn't pushed away. She felt her mother tense for a moment, but then relaxed easily enough, even leaning over to press a gentle kiss into the top of her head. The perfect weekend.

Back at the house, Elsa immediately went for the bedroom, and Anna understood. This was pretty late for both of them given how early they needed to be up. She wanted to ask if they could snuggle for a while, but they both knew what that could lead to. Maybe it was best that they not.

Still, her head was filled with memories of how good Punz had made her feel as she got ready and slipped into her own sheets. Ones she was going to cherish forever.

                                ~ o ~

"Okay, be honest. Now that we're alone… you really had fun?"

Punz rolled her eyes as they made their way down the hall. "I said I did, didn't I? Your mom's pretty great. She was before, but like, she also did that mom thing where they act like you're 'too young' to hang out with them. But I think… this was how she would be all along. The Elsa McFly I know, anyway; couldn't say anything about the one you grew up with.

Anna couldn't say much about that version, either. But, it seemed as though Punz wanted something, and how could Anna refuse her? The mere fact that Punz was accepting all of this as true was a miracle unto itself; providing details was the least she could do.

"She was…nice. When she was sober, which wasn't often. I think- well, it felt like she blamed me for how crummy her life had been, but I think now she just hated herself…"

A memory surfaced: walking out the front door on a cold Saturday, Elsa crying, watching her go. Anna had said she'd be back, had promised. She hoped that version of Elsa no longer existed. That she wasn't part of a sad alternate timeline. She hadn't been a great mom, or even a really great person. But maybe she still deserved a bit of peace…

"Do you think it would be weird for me to say… that I feel more like my real mom died, and this is like, her aunt? Like an aunt that acts a lot like my mom, because they grew up together, but isn't my mom?"

Punz was staring at Anna with wide eyes. As a few kids passed them in the hall, she steered Anna over to the water fountain and lowered her voice. "Maybe weird. But the situation is weird, so like, I don't think any worse of you for feeling that way. She's not the woman who raised you; I mean, she is, but she's not. Crazy."

"Yeah, pretty crazy."

"Not that you're crazy, or she is. Just the situation. You got that part, right?"

Smiling, Anna caught up her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Yeah. Hear you loud and clear. So you really want to hang out with us again next weekend? Not just say 'hi' to her and then we go do our own thing?"

"Well… I would like to do our own thing. Especially if that means me doing you." The huge grin made Anna dip her head slightly and fight to suppress a giggle. "But maybe we can kinda do what we did this weekend; hang out with her but have time to ourselves in there somewhere."

"I like that plan. And we'll have to figure out what else we can do besides bowling. I mean, stuff that a pushing-fifty mom would be okay doing, so probably not hitting the club."

"We can't even hit the club," she snorted. "Not without wearing the 'I'm a baby' marks on the backs of our hands to keep us from boozing it."

"Would that be so bad?" Anna asked. Punz's smile dropped just a fraction.

"Oh… oh yeah… wow, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"

"But!" Anna interrupted her, just as the first bell rang, "we can still do things like… ice skating and movies and stuff. And clubbing, if that's something you want to do without boozing?"

The sudden mass of students tramping through the hall meant that Punz couldn't answer properly. And besides, Mr Weselton was suddenly very interested in the bubbler and was most definitely not keeping an eye on the two girls standing next to it. One red-haired devil in particular.

Punz didn't seem to notice him, and gave an easy smile instead. Glancing at the toupeéd teacher, Anna cleared her throat. She would have loved to keep chatting, but another detention wasn't worth it.

"I'll see you later?" Anna asked, opening her arms and leaning forward. The hug was completely circumvented when Punz managed to duck her arms and instead plant a kiss on her cheek.

"Sure thing," she said as her feet carried her down the hallway. "I'll see you at lunch!"

A dazed smile on her face, Anna waved her goodbye. She was very nearly late to class. Nearly.

                                ~ o ~

Unfortunately, Anna had a ton of homework that evening, so she skipped hanging out with Punz right away. Ordinarily, she might have blown it off, but she felt like she owed it to this reality's Anna to keep her grades up now. Maybe it was also partly that she had enjoyed so much of her weekend that she didn't want to risk bad karma taking over.

All in all, she was satisfied when she shoved her books back into her bag. Not anything that would win an award but satisfactory for an average student. Therefore, she didn't feel bad that she was watching TV when Elsa got home.

"Oh, there she is," she sighed tiredly as she dropped her purse next to the coat rack, then walked into the kitchen. She looked very well put-together in her grey suit with its pleated skirt, but also like she was ready to not be as soon as possible.

"Here I is." The laugh from the kitchen was weak but at least it was a laugh. "How was your day, dear?"

"It was lovely, husband. Just long." The smirk from their banter was still on her face when she reappeared with a bottle of water. Anna couldn't help saying a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn't bottle of Jack.

"Come sit."

"Can't, I have to get dinner started."

"Nah," she urged, waving her hands at her mother to join her on the couch. "Just a couple minutes. I'm not super hungry."

"You might not be, but I certainly am," Elsa said. Still, she walked over and plonked next to Anna, giving a grateful groan as she kicked off her shoes. Anna grinned.

"How was your day really?" she asked again. "Full story."

Elsa didn't answer at first – she had just uncapped the bottle and was taking a long swig. The sight was making Anna feel a little thirsty. By the time she finished, half the bottle was gone. Anna didn't give her a chance to re-cap it because she simply plucked it from her mother's hands and began drinking the rest. It seemed to take Elsa a moment to gather herself before she could answer.

"O-oh, you know the drill. Paperwork. Clients." But Anna shook her head.

"I don't. What do you do? Because the other Elsa… didn't do much…"

"You mean, she didn't have a job?" Elsa clarified, and Anna gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Yeah. No job, or life. She didn't really have friends, either. She left the house for a weekly bingo game that she never won, sometimes went to church if she wasn't hung over, and to do the groceries. We had a freezer cabinet so she'd buy a tonne of frozen lasagnes and pizzas and stuff…"

"Ah… well, that's one style of parenting, I suppose." She didn't say whether or not she approved or disapproved of her alternate self's methods. Stretching out her legs with a slight groan, she propped them on the coffee table. "I work in real estate. Some of it's on the phone in the office, but I had a lot of running around today. Showed a couple of places."

"A realtor, huh?" That didn't sound much like the young Elsa she knew, but then again, this one was just as dedicated to her family as her own mother. So it was hardly surprising she kind of 'fell into' a job that suited her, rather than choosing one that was her true passion.

"Right," she groaned slowly, sagging down into the couch. "It pays the bills, and I generally like my coworkers. And my hours can be a little flexible, so it's been great for the family. Some days just feel long, that's all." After a moment, she crossed one leg closer and started rubbing at her foot. "Nhh… how was school? How's Jennifer, how's the band?"

Shrugging, she set the empty bottle down on the coffee table. A private smile blossomed on her face; it was nice for her mom to be taking an interest. Very weird still, but nice. "Not bad. Didn't see the band much, but Punz is looking forward to more Elsa-time."

"That's sweet," she laughed, genuinely amused by the thought. "I'm the Cool Mom, I guess. Weird but a good thing."

"Yeah. Um, I could do that for you."

"Do what?" It took several seconds for Elsa to switch conversational gears and realise what her daughter meant, and she laughed. "Oh, no… don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Just give it a few minutes and the aches will subside."

"It's really no big deal," Anna promised her as she reached to start kneading her thumbs into Elsa's sole.

"Mmmm…" Elsa hummed, head falling back and whole body slumping. "Wow that… feels really nice…"

Grinning, Anna didn't bother to respond verbally. Instead, all she did was dig her thumbs in a little harder, untangling the knots that had developed in the tortured appendage.

For a few minutes, the only sound was Elsa's contented sighs as Anna dug into the sole of her foot. Anna had been right – it was no big deal. That very thought seemed to have Elsa relaxing further, simply enjoying the relief. But then Anna began moving her hand up, working into the arch of Elsa's foot. The sound of pleasure she gave was no longer a sigh – it was a moan.

A very familiar-sounding one. Both women paused for a moment, faces red as they stared at one another. And then Anna did it again. The sound Elsa made shot straight to her core, and she almost wanted to cry out herself. She wanted to let Elsa know how it made her feel. But Elsa didn't want to know, so she said nothing. If asked, she could attribute this to not knowing – after all, Elsa wasn't exactly telling her to stop. Quite the contrary, actually.

"Anna!" Elsa gasped, and it was probably supposed to be an admonishment. It wasn't – the way Elsa's voice quivered, holding the vowels and squirming… it really wasn't.

"It's just a foot rub, Mom," Anna said softly. Perhaps the use of her title and not her name helped, because Elsa wasn't as loud for a moment. Or… maybe it was because she was the only one acting in such a way and felt too conspicuous with it pointed out.

As Anna swapped feet, not wanting to focus too much on one side, she reflected for a moment on how much of a difference it made to Elsa when she used her name as opposed to her title. And vice versa, with "Tori". She idly wondered why it mattered so much to her; was she really so hard to distinguish from Tori, the girl of her mother's dreams, the one who got away? Elsa kept saying that they could "get past this" or "get over it" but the more Anna tested her, the more it became apparent that, for Elsa at least, the opposite had been true. And now here she was, on the receiving end of an increasingly-erotic foot massage.

"Ahhh… agahgod." The moans were returning. She pressed in again, her thumb slipping right into the sensitive area under the arch of Elsa's foot. "Ohhhhh, To-"

Elsa sat bolt upright, tearing her foot out of Anna's hands, her face flush and mildly mortified. "Anna!" she said hotly. "I… we… Jennifer!" she mumbled, as if that somehow constituted an objection, an admonishment and a complete sentence.

"You're thinking about Jennifer at a time like this?" Anna quipped, to hide her sinking heart – even if it was still pounding with adrenaline. "Besides, like I said, it's only a massage. Don't get so…"

It wasn't much of a defense. They both knew how it sounded, even though it was supposed to be something purely innocent. But Elsa was already clearing her throat and taking several deep breaths, trying to get herself back under control.

"Alright… alright." Pressing a hand into her face for a moment, she then began to laugh very weakly. "Ohhhh, this is impossible. It's impossible!"

"What's impossible? Oh, here, just… stop…" Frustrated with her own inability to say what she meant, Anna just grabbed for Elsa's foot and began to knead again.

"ANNA! Stop, just… mmhhh, it's so good though…"

For a minute, she merely bit her lip and fought down making any further sounds. Anna found herself doing the same; it was really difficult. She had been hoping to prove to both of them that they could handle a simple massage, especially one somewhere as silly as a foot; it wasn't like she was massaging her back while she was nude under a towel! But somehow, her thumbs grinding into her mother's toe joints turned out just as bad. She would have thought it was a ludicrous idea if she wasn't living it at that exact moment.

"Ooh… okay, I think… I'm better," Elsa finally whimpered. By that point, she had fully turned on the couch and was reclining with her feet in Anna's lap. "I'm so sorry… overreacting, I didn't mean…"

"I know," Anna whispered with a slight smile. "Seriously… I totally get it. We're just going to have to get used to stuff like that, right? Like you were saying." Not that she fully believed that, but she was trying her best.

Elsa bit her lip and nodded. "I uh… I should probably get dinner sorted," she finally said, scrambling away. "I better- better go do that…"

Heart falling again briefly, Anna nodded back. She wasn't really hungry anymore, but realised that Elsa needed an out. Watching through the door as her mother fretted about the kitchen, it became startlingly obvious that she needed to… feel like a mother again.

God, what were they doing? And why weren't they doing more? It was fast becoming obvious that what they were doing was not working, and that really only left them with two options: give into their feelings, or see a psychiatrist. And really, only one of those options was even plausible because Elsa completely refused to entertain the thought of the other.

"Mom…" Anna began, softly. Elsa ignored her. "Mom!" she tried again, and Elsa froze for just a second. When she finally looked up, it was with incredible hesitancy.

"Yes, Anna?" Elsa said. Succeeded in not reminding Anna of her 17-year-old counterpart, so that was a plus, she supposed.

Anna couldn't do it. She couldn't demand anything of her mother, not like this. No matter how she felt herself. The timing was not at all right; the poor woman looked so fragile, as if she needed to be domestic right now to keep from drowning in self-flagellation and anxiety. Swallowing, she looked away for a second. "I just… you look really nice. Happy, I mean."

Elsa smiled, small and grateful. "Thank you, Anna," she said, and she obviously meant it. She also seemed happy that Anna hadn't said anything else. Perhaps she knew what was on her daughter's mind. Either way, she didn't mention it. Instead, she brushed straight past it, and the still-lingering awkwardness of earlier. "Now, did you want curry or stroganoff for dinner tonight?"

"Hmm…" Anna hummed, silently still amazed they weren't defrosting a handful of Lean Cuisines. "Stroganoff. Pasta sounds better than rice, I think."

"Stroganoff it is," Elsa agreed. "Now, come and give your poor mother a hand. I can't chop the onions without crying, so I'll need you to take that bullet for me."

There was an easy banter as they prepped the meal, even though the onion fume had them both sobbing into the food – at least until it was cooked. Though all the while, something was slightly different about Elsa's demeanor. She was happy, and cheerful, and joking as she always did. But in between those moments, Anna would catch a sadness in her eyes that had been gone for the past week. Only existing right after they first realised what they were to each other in the present day.

Tori and Elsa. The starcrossed lovers that could never reunite. Anna half still wanted to throw herself at her mother and worry about the consequences later, because she seemed to need her the same way she needed to be domestic a moment ago. But that would go against her wishes. It wasn't easy, but she was trying to respect those as much as she could.

Once they had eaten, Anna worked up the courage to try again. But she decided to approach it differently than the random accusation she had going to fling at her mother. It was unfair, after all, but she couldn't just stay silent.

"So…" Elsa stiffened slightly as she rinsed off the dishes to go into the dishwasher, hands slowing down to a snail's pace. "Um, I'm sorry about earlier. But I think it got to be pretty okay toward the end, right? Like… we worked past the… weirdness?"

"Of course, Anna," she said with a slight smile. "Guess I just have sensitive tootsies. It's no one's fault, really."

Nodding, her daughter took the next stack and began putting them in the dishwasher. "Right. But I liked doing that for you. Making you feel good in a…" She gave a little chuckle. "Well, I was gonna say 'non-sexual way', but maybe a less-sexual way? Um, it was…"

"It was," Elsa admitted, eyes going distant as she thought back on it. "I don't know where you learned to do that. Not from me."

"Punz gave me a footrub once. I didn't react to it the way you did, though. But like… I was just kinda guessing. I really did a good job?"

"You really did."

And Anna believed her. Because by now, her mother had taken off her suit jacket, and she could see very vague shapes standing at strong relief on her peaks through the fabric of her blouse.

Had she done it on purpose? Reason told Anna the Elsa hadn't – that she didn't realise exactly what she was giving away. But further examining of her logic said something different. Elsa had to know how her body had reacted. This wasn't something that could simply be blamed on the weather. She wondered how often Elsa thought of Tori. Had she truly reconciled the fact that Tori and Anna were one and the same? Or was she like Anna – knowing they were, but her body reacted as though they were two separate beings. Is that how Elsa had managed to move past the 'I ate out my daughter' guilt?

But… perhaps Elsa hadn't moved past it. A scenario Anna hadn't quite fully envisioned before popped into her head: Elsa knew how her body was reacting, and yet she was ignoring it. Ignoring it because if she didn't… if she acknowledged it… then she would also have to acknowledge that Anna made her feel this way. Continued to make her feel like that, despite now knowing who they were to each other. How strong this reaction proved to be, even after all her work to bury it.

Anna was tired of the games. Tired of dancing around her feelings – of not being able to even admit them – because Elsa didn't want to hear it. She had put up a wall and refused to let anything past it. It wasn't fair. She wanted… she wanted either her mother, as only her mother… or else she wanted Elsa, all of her. The problem was that she kept being given little tastes of what more they could be if they only pushed past the taboo, past their reservations.

The problem was that Elsa would never be just her mother. Not anymore.

                                 TO BE CONTINUED… 

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Life’s Ineffable Like That

Ineffable Husbands, Post-Apocalypse,  Light-hearted shenanigans, Fluff

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Summary: Crowley wakes up to find a human child left on his doorstep.  He’s not sure where it came from, or who it belongs to, but he’s got a vague idea what to do with it.  The trouble is getting Aziraphale to agree to it. 

A/N: This is going to just be a series of one-shots set it this universe.  I don’t really have things in chronological order.  If anybody would like to be tagged for this series or has any prompts, please let me know.  And finally  PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

          It took a lot to surprise Crowley.  

          Having been on the Earth since the very beginning and being older still, it would be an understatement to say he’d been ‘round the block a few times.  

          A more accurate description would be he’d been ‘round the area on which the block would eventually be built a few thousand times before eventually watching the construction of the block with a cup of tea and then going around the newly constructed block a few hundred thousand times more; occasional stops for repairs notwithstanding.  So, when one says that Crowley was taken by surprise when he opened his door to find a baby in a basket with a note attached, it is no small thing.

          His first sinking feeling was that this was another Anti-Christ after the last one had been a bust.  He couldn’t imagine his superiors below would ever trust him with such a task again; part of the ineffable plan be damned. However, one look at the child told him otherwise.

          It was human; from its tiny human dark-skinned toes to its tiny human wisps of black hair. One hundred percent, certified, distant relation to Adam and Eve, human. The next question was, who on Earth would place a human child in the care of a soldier of Hell?  

          He looked out into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of who ever had drop the child on his door step.  Nothing came of it, of course, but Crowley felt he had to at least put in the effort. He looked down again.  

          The child was now staring up at him.  Its large brown eyes didn’t blink once as they took turns examining each other.

          “Right,” Crowley said.  “You aren’t going to cause trouble if I check something, are you?”

          The baby blinked, and Crowley took it as a yes.

          Slowly, the demon crouched down and took the note off the basket. Unfortunately, it was indeed, addressed to one A. J. Crowley.  

          He grimaced and opened the letter, which read as follows;

            Crowley,

          I’m not sure if you remember me, but I remember you. The night we had together is one I could never forget, for, as I hope is apparent to you now, obvious reasons.  I couldn’t bear to give her away.  You hear such awful things about foster care and orphans in books and the like. I just knew she’d be safe with you.

          Janet

            Crowley stared at the letter for a good long while.  She had been right; he couldn’t remember her. But the letter had managed to answer three things.  One, the baby was female.  Two, the mother clearly didn’t know who Crowley really was.  And three, this clearly was a big mix-up, but not by the postman.  It also answered a bonus forth question; the child was not his problem.  

          Without another thought on the matter, Crowley closed the door with a mild thud.  

          The child, however, would not allow Crowley to dismiss her without another thought.

          Muffled wails came from the other side of the door. Crowley turned towards it, his lip tightening.

          “Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play is it?  Go ahead! I watched after the wrong Anti-Christ for eleven years, I can take it.”

          The cries continued all the same as Crowley went about his morning routine. Or at least, while he tried to go about his morning routine.

          He had hoped somebody else might hear the baby crying and take care of it themselves. Or maybe the baby would just stop when it realized it wasn’t going to get its way. He had no such luck on either front.

          For one, he essentially lived alone on the top floor the apartment complex; so, the chances of a good Samaritan stopping in were slim to none.  And for second, a new born human is as stubborn as a full-grown mule.  

          The baby cried as he prepped his coffee with a pressed lip.  It continued on through his bedroom walls as he got dressed with gritted teeth.  And finally got to him when he was about to water his plants.

         “Fine!” he snapped, storming back towards the door.  “Fine! Fine! Fine!”

         He didn’t stop saying “fine” until the basket was placed on the dining room table just off the kitchen.  

         The child was still crying, but it had changed from the attention seeking wails to a more whimpering blubber.  

         Crowley let out an annoyed sigh, making a silent prayer to either side that nobody notice what he was about to do. With a snap of his fingers a bottle of warm milk appeared in his hand.    

         “Happy now?” he grumbled, as he held the bottle for the girl to drink.

         The baby did so, staring up at him with wide eyes.  She did not appear unhappy.  The bottle had stopped the cries at least.  But Crowley vaguely felt like she was threatening to start again should he try anything. He might have been impressed if her stubbornness if it wasn’t directed right at him.

         The moment’s quiet finally gave him time to think.  And that time to think helped him to remember just how this mix up might have started.

         He had been hearing more and more things on the news about sex, abortions, and if the government should or should not have a say in it.  This was not a new topic of conversation. Sex had always been a hot button issue to humans; seven deadly sins and all that.  What humans didn’t seem to realize though was the sin wasn’t the lust itself, rather all the things humans were willing to do to satisfy it; anger, betrayal, jealousy, the lot.  It came to the point where Crowley just had to know what all the fuss was about.  He was a demon after all, it was his job to allow himself the indulgence in sin.

         So, one night, he went out, got drunk and indulged.  One man, one woman, just to give each a fair shot.  

         It was good.  He wouldn’t say he’d go out of his way to do it again. Or even if he could justify why humans were willing to kill each other over it; however, he could see why it might be done recreationally.

        Timeline wise, it more or less coincided with the appearance of a one-month old baby on his doorstep. However, there was no conceivable way he was actually the father.  Humans and demons couldn’t make children.  It would be like an ape trying to have a baby with a snake, rather literally in this case. Which meant, she had a human father somewhere out there, but who or where he was was a question Crowley couldn’t answer.

        Giving her back to her mother was out.  She had cast her aside.  The child had no home to be returned to. There was only one thing Crowley could do in this situation.  He pulled the bottle away and picked up the phone.

        “Sorry, we’re quite closed,” Aziraphale answered.

        “It’s me,” Crowley said quickly.  “I need you to come over.”

        “Something’s happened?” the angel asked, immediately recognizing his friend’s tone.

        “Yeah, you could say that.”

        Then, as if waiting for her cue, the baby began to cry once more.

        “Is that a baby?” Aziraphale asked, alarmed. “Another Anti-Christ?!”

        “No,” Crowley assured.  “No, no Anti-Christ.  Look, difficult to explain on the phone, just come over here.”

        “I’m on my way.”

        They both clicked off.  

        The baby cried, and Crowley was just about finished.

        “Right,” he snapped, walking back towards her. With dramatic flair, he tore off his sunglasses, letting the child get full view of his slitted, yellow eyes.

        “You are going to stop crying,” he growled in the same tone he used on his plants when one of them developed a spot. “You are going to sit there and behave until the angel figures out what do to with you. Do you understand?”

        The baby blinked, and Crowley prepared himself for the cry of fear. But, it never came. Instead, she out stretched her arms, brushing his nose with her tiny fingers.

        “What are you doing?” he asked, suspiciously.

        She didn’t answer, of course.  She just continued to swing her little arms around, trying to get a grip on his chin and face, and anywhere else she could manage to reach.

        Crowley pulled back a hair but allowed his hand to come within her range flailing limbs.

        She took hold of one of his fingers and let out a gurgle of satisfaction.

        The demon stared down, not quite sure what to make of it. The sensation of having his hand look so monstrously large when compared to hers, made his stomach twist in a foreign, but not entirely unpleasant way.

        She pulled his finger closer to her with no indication she was going to let go any time soon.

        “You’ve got so sense of self-preservation, do you,” he asked, dismissively.

        She batted his hand in response.

        Before he even fully realized he was doing it, he picked her up, careful to let her chin rest against his shoulder as he held her.  She started to drool on his jacket, but he found himself not really caring.  He could always miracle it away later.

        “You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” he said. “Whoever ends up looking after you is going to have their work cut out for them.”

        He walked through the flat towards the living room, not waiting for a response.

        “Aziraphale will probably say to give you away.  Make sure you’re picked up by some loving perfectly normal human family.  Boring answer, really.  But that would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

        He sat down on the couch, adjusting so he was leaning back as the baby lay on his chest.

        “God forbid an angel not to the right thing,” he said, ironically. “But, I’m not an angel, am I? I’m not supposed to do the right thing.”

        He let the thought stew for a moment before continuing.

        “My lot would probably just leave you behind a dumpster. Or find some place out of a Charles Dickens’ novel to drop you.  Basic set up for a miserable life; no real thought put into it. No imagination.”

        The child let out a little yawn, gripping vaguely at the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

        He caught himself smiling at the action.  “Serves you right, a full hour of wailing can really take it out of you.”

        She didn’t make any more sounds one way or the other.  Her eyes simply fell closed.

        Crowley kept a hand on her to keep her from sliding off his chest before leaning fully back to stare at the ceiling. An idea was forming in his mind; one he was growing more and more keen to act on.  He would just need to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.  

            ----------------------------------------------------------------------

       When the angel arrived at the flat, Crowley was still on the couch, now with the baby safely cradled in his arms.

       “Oh, thank God,” the angel said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “It’s human.”

       “I said as much, didn’t I,” Crowley defended.  

       “You said it wasn’t another Anti-Christ,” the angel replied.  “That leaves plenty of other options open.”

       Crowley didn’t really have a counter argument and opted for a general nod of the head from side to side.

       “Well, either way, you’re here now.  Take her for a moment, will you?”

       He didn’t wait for Aziraphale to respond before practically shoving the girl into the angel’s arms.  

       Aziraphale took her, of course, cradling her head with the same care he might with his beloved books.

       “Hello there,” he cooed only a little awkwardly.

       The child opened its eyes with the same curiosity it did when examining Crowley. Perhaps it was his angelic nature, or maybe she was still tired from a good cry, but she cooed back, her hands grabbing vaguely in his direction.

       Aziraphale smiled at the action, and gladly gave her one of his fingers to play with before addressing the demon in the room.

       “Where did she come from?

       “Now angel, it’s been six thousand years. You really need me to explain the bird and the bees?”

       “You know what I mean,” Aziraphale said, trying to place more indignity than embarrassment in his tone.

       Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses, handed Aziraphale the note, and leaned against the island countertop as the angel read.

       Aziraphale finished the note, his brows furrowing in confusion. “This is clearly some sort of mistake.”

       “That’s what I said,” Crowley said, taking back the note.

       “You can’t possibly be the father.”

       “Obviously.”

       “So why does she think you are?”

       Crowley crossed his arms, doing his best to say the words as casually as possible. “Probably because I had sex with her.”

       Aziraphale blinked.  “You what?”

       “I. Had. Sex. With. Her.” The demon repeated, slowly.

       Aziraphale blinked again.  There wasn’t any judgement on his part that Crowley could detect, just a general confusion as if Crowley had just confessed, he liked peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches.

       “But, why?” the angel finally asked.

       “Curiosity,” Crowley answered, this time with genuine casualness.

       “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

       “There was nothing to tell. It was a one-off thing.  Well, two off,” he said, with a shrug. “Different person, nice man.”

       Aziraphale stared at him for a long while before letting out a tired sigh.

       “I will never fully understand you Crowley.”

       “Probably not,” he admitted. “But, I doubt we’d be friends if you did.”

       The angel didn’t argue, looking back down at the human baby in his arms.

       “I suppose it doesn’t matter where she came from,” he said.  “The simple fact is she’s here, and she needs a home.”

       The child’s eyes were beginning the close again as Aziraphale swayed gently back and forth, her grip still tight around his finger.

       “I suppose we’ll have to find some adoption agency,” Aziraphale said, his voice sounding almost melancholy at the prospect.  “There are plenty here doing good work.”

       “Yeah, about that,” Crowley said, taking a stride towards him.  “I was thinking, we could try something else.”

       “Such as?”

       “Well, I don’t know about you, but I was thinking about keeping her.”

       “What?!”

       “Shh, not so loud,” Crowley said.  “She’s going to sleep.”

       “You can’t keep her, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his whisper losing none of its edge.  “She’s a human being, not a plant you can terrorize.”  

       “So, she’s a human being, I’ve taken care of a human being before.”

       “As a nanny, for a handful of years, and that was for work.”

       Crowley could see the frustration rising in Aziraphale’s temples as the angel took a breath.

       “This isn’t a one-off thing,” he continued. “This is a life.  A human life.  She should be with other humans.”

       “And humans can do better than us, can they?”

       “They were able to handle the Anti-Christ much better than us, if I recall.”

       Crowley floundered for a moment before recovering. “Yeah, well, we helped.”

       “By being incompetent.”

       The demon let out a huff of frustration. “Fine, you don’t want in. You don’t want in. But then what happens to her after this is on you.”

       “Excuse me?”

       “Let’s say you take her to an adoption agency.  Maybe even go so far as to miracle her a nice normal family.  Then what? Forget? Let the world do with her as it likes? If a child were left on your doorstep, would you really just let her go?”

       Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer but stopped as the child made another small cooing sound. He looked down again, his eyes softening at the odd little bundle even as conflict still raged back and forth.

       “We can’t,” he said, with no real conviction.

       “Maybe you can’t.  I’m keeping her whether you say yes or no.” He then took another step forward and pulled the child out of the angel’s arms.

       Aziraphale floundered, completely shocked by his friend’s actions. “But—"

       “Let’s see,” Crowley said, speculatively.  “Girls names. Girls names.  Let’s go with –”

       “No!” Aziraphale interrupted.  “No! You can’t just name her.  Once you name her, we’re sunk.”

       “We? You just said yourself angel, you can’t.”

       “Well, you’re forcing my hand,” he countered.  “I can’t very well stand by and watch you create your own personal foot soldier of hell now can I?”

       Crowley grinned, knowing full well the excuse was just that, an excuse.  “Good, it’s settled, we’ll raise Izzie together.”

       “Izzie?” Aziraphale said, doubtfully.

       “Short for Isabelle,” Crowley explained.

       The angel raised an eyebrow.

       “What?” Crowley asked.  “You think I’m going to name my kid after some demon or something cruel like Bobbi Jean? No.  I think Izzie is just wrong enough.  Izzies are always crazy.”

       Izzie raised no objections to this as she gurgled peacefully.

       Aziraphale assessed the reaction carefully, before taking a small step closer.

       Izzie spotted him and her hands reached out for the angel’s finger once more. He let her take without hesitation.

       “Well for my money, I think Belle suits her much better,” Aziraphale said.

       “Whatever you say angel.”

       ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Permanent Tag List; @sassy-satanunicorns, @roseslovedreams, @stargeek727, @kaliforniacoastalteens, @yourwonderbelle, @steve-thotgers, @stellasakura31

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Endgame - Jungkook One Shot

Request: could you do like soccer!jungkook and cheerleader!reader and how they get attracted to each other :-))))

Description: Y/N has had her fill of dating. Between the veiled intentions, the expectations, and the disappointment she’s ready to spend the rest of her life as a spinster. But what happens when her best friend’s handsome brother happens to be in the right place at the right time?

Word Count: 12.1k

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Tags: College!Au, Non-Idol!Au, Soccer Player!Jungkook, Cheerleader!Reader, Fake Dating!Au

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and coarse language

A/N: Whoop! Hey there. I am SO SO sorry this took so long to complete! I tend to write pretty long one shots, so this one followed that trend haha. I hope this is what you were hoping for and I hope it doesn’t disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it. I found it very fun and comfortable to write this concept. My sister was actually a cheerleader in high school, so I know a little bit about it already! Thank you so much for requesting!

Also! If you’d like to support me on Ko-fi, I recently set up a page for it! Of course, absolutely no pressure and no expectation! I just figured I’d give the page a little plug at the end of this intro. Anything is appreciated! Here’s the link: https://ko-fi.com/mercurywriter

- Mercury

Masterlist

“Go easy! Damn,” mumbled Yeri as you helped her stretch, bending her body in half as her fingers extended past her sneakered toes.

You laughed and eased your pushing on her back, leaning slightly on your knees. “You’re never gonna be able to do a Scorpion if you don’t stretch,” you said quietly, still pressing lightly against her back.

She rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her hand, folded on the blue mat. “Whatever. I only wanted to do it so my brother would get off my back and so far that’s been a big fat bust.”

You smiled and released her altogether, sitting beside her. “You keep saying you hate him, but you and I both know you care about his opinion.”

She met your eyes seriously and placed a hand on yours. “Y/N, he’s like the god of my household,” she said with a sigh. “Can you imagine what it’s like being the sister of someone who can literally touch anything and be good at it?”

You pursed your lips with a shrug. “I wouldn’t really know,” you said, then smirked at her. “Because you won’t let me meet him.”

“Because he’s a Class A fuck-boy and I’m protecting you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s always playing at the games. You probably never noticed him because you’re too busy like…holding me up.”

You laughed and began stretching yourself, leaning your torso forward as you held your foot. “Sorry I’m trying not to drop you on your big head,” you said.

She shoved you, causing you to bowl over onto your side with a laugh. “Either way, pay attention next time. I’ll point him out.” She slid into the splits and stretched side to side, but paused to give you a cautionary glare. “But you absolutely cannot talk to him! He’ll…seduce you or something.”

You scoffed. “Am I that easy?” you asked, rolling your eyes as you joined her in the splits, the other girls guiding themselves through their own stretched beside you. “I can’t even think about boys without getting queasy.”

She smacked your thigh and you winced. “Don’t say stuff like that,” she said with a quiet sigh. “If you keep expecting bad things to happen because one bad thing happened one time then you’re gonna hold yourself back from a lot of experiences.”

You quirked a brow and scooted closer to her, leveling your eyes with a teasing smile. “Then can I date your brother?”

She gagged and shoved you by the shoulder. You rolled onto your back with the force of her push, but she wasn’t finished. She hopped over to you on her knees and resumed her attacked, shoving you as you lied laughing on the ground. She began laughing as well as she rolled you around the gym mats.

“Is it funny? Are you having fun?” she asked, shoving you some more until you were resting on your stomach with your arms pinned beneath you, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you struggled not to laugh. “Huh?”

“Y/N! Yeri! Stop messing around!”

You and Yeri sat upright immediately and with stiff backs, bowed your heads. In unison you called, “Yes, Coach!”

But as the two of you rejoined the rest of the chuckling girls, Yeri gave your shoulder one more shove and stuck out her tongue.

You sat nervously outside your classroom, waiting for the class before you to finish. The rest of the students in your course stood around the door in clumps, everyone fidgeting from the morning air and the waiting. You really wished the previous class hadn’t run over. You were in a conspicuous spot, nestled on a bench between two pillars facing the courtyard. You knew that if you lingered out here too long, the other classes in nearby buildings would be released. Specifically the math building. They’d walk right past you to get to the walkway…

You pulled your jacket around your chest a little more tightly and bunched your shoulders up to your ears. You were sure you looked suspicious. So suspicious in fact, that even though the spot beside you on the bench was unoccupied none of the other students sat down to wait there. You couldn’t help it. Heartbreak made you paranoid.

The bell dinged distantly, signaling the time. It was time for class to be over. You bounced you knee and crossed your arms. Every second that ticked by was a second that left you exposed. Perhaps he would walk past, perhaps he’d recognize your back or the top of your head. Perhaps you’d have to look at him. You shuddered and stood to your feet, poising yourself against the pillar opposite your class’s closed door. The bench which you’d occupied before became full the moment you left it and you scowled. People were avoiding you for good reason, you were sure. Whenever you got this anxious, you tended to infect others with it like a virus.

A minute passed and you began to hear shuffling feet behind your back, rushing through the courtyard. His route took him this way, sure. But maybe he was stuck back in his own classroom. Maybe he decided to take a detour!

Nonetheless, you cowered into yourself and sat your eyes on the concrete floor under your feet. If that damn door would just open…

“Hey, can you scoot over a little? I’m halfway in the walkway,” said a girl gently from beside you.

You stuttered a laugh and shook your head. “Ah, I…I kinda want to stand here.”

She paused for a moment, brows high as she scanned you. “Oh…,” she mumbled, then furrowed her brow. “Like…exactly there?”

You blushed and nodded. “Uh…yeah,” you said, rubbing your arm with a smile. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged and edged closer to you, her shoulders brushing with yours. But you were too frenzied to be still, so as you bounced nervously she bounced with you. You knew you were being annoying. You could tell from the way the girl sighed and struggled to keep her limbs from poking into the walkway on the side of the building. It was cramped beneath the building’s overhang as it was, but the two of you were cozied together like a pair of chilly birds.

Out the corner of your eye, you caught the familiar sight of faded blonde hair on a head bobbing considerably taller than the rest. It even looked like it was coming from the math building…

You stiffened and turned to the girl who had angled her body away from yours. You turned your shoulders slightly so your chest was nearly touching her back, hoping that once he passed by the front of the building he wouldn’t see your face. The girl stiffened and turned to look at you with wide eyes.

“You okay?” she asked.

You nodded and covered your eyes with your hand as that blonde head breezed by painfully slowly. “Mhm.”

She sighed. “Can’t you scoot just a little bit to your right? Like the tiniest bit?”

Now you especially couldn’t. If you gave even an inch, you’d be visible from the courtyard. You couldn’t chance it. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, to which she sighed and edged closer.

Only this time, she began pushing you slightly with her backside, nudging you out of your safe spot. You struggled against her, but every subtle lean sent you struggling to maintain your footing. You watched the classroom door swing open and a stream of students filtered out. Finally a lucky break. You breathed a sigh of relief and, for the briefest moment your guard fell. Your new friend took your relaxed posture as an opening and gave you one final shove with her back. This time, however, you couldn’t catch yourself. Your feet slipped out from under you and you fell sideways, colliding with a body that was on its way to the courtyard.

The person you’d assailed grabbed your forearm but lost their own balance on the corner of the bench, launching the two of you out onto the courtyard bricks. Gasping, you braced yourself for impact and squeezed your eyes shut. Your shoulder fell with a crack against the ground and you winced, grabbing for it immediately with tears stinging in your eyes from the pain. You heard labored breathing beneath you and slowly pried your eyes open to see a broad chest fitted in a sleek — now dirty — white button-down. You pushed yourself up on your palms, but your right shoulder ached too much for the pressure so you fell again against this stranger’s chest.

His arm snaked around your waist and helped hoist you up. You glanced down to see you were caged between his long legs. Slowly, you scanned his face and your heart raced. Big, doe-eyes and a parted mouth, brown hair quaffed off his forehead, and a surprised flush in his cheeks, the boy was very handsome. You stiffened and scrambled away from him, standing carefully to your feet and offering him your hand. He glanced between you and your outstretched palm for a moment before sighing and grabbing it. But as he pulled himself up, you hissed in pain. On instinct, you’d offered your right hand, putting strain on your already-sore shoulder.

He scanned you for a long time from above once he had regained his footing, eyes passing over your every feature, hand still clasped in yours. You cleared your throat, feeling exposed under his blatant gaze, and glanced around. A few people stopped to watch the two of you fall, but most of the crowd had dissipated as you righted yourselves. You sighed, relief flooding through you. A sore shoulder was better than facing him.

The boy smiled slightly, a suave sort of smile, and took a swaggering step towards you. “Did you fall for me?” he asked.

You stared up at him, gaping, and blinked as his smile broadened. “I…,” you began, taken aback by his boldness. “I’m sorry about that.”

He winked and smoothed a thumb across the top of your hand. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time,” he said.

“I…wait, I wasn’t apologizing for falling for you. I meant I was sorry for falling onto you,” you clarified, narrowing your eyes.

He smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry. Secret’s safe with me,” he said with another wink.

You shook your head, blinking rapidly. “No, no wait. I think there’s a big misunderstanding here-,”

He sighed and released your hand, fishing around in his front pocket before producing a phone. “Here,” he said, holding it out to you.

You raised your brows. “W…what? What’s this for?” you asked, puzzled.

He sighed again, as if it was so obvious it was tiring, and wiggled his phone a few times. “For your number,” he said. “Come on.”

You squinted and thought a moment. “Wait, are you asking for my number?”

The boy laughed, and you hated that you found it charming. “I’m doing you a favor,” he said. “Since you’re clearly into me.”

You held your hands up and waved them. “Hold on, no. This isn’t-,”

“Y/N?”

Your body went ice cold and your back straightened. With wide eyes, you turned to the source of the call and found, standing tall and dashing as ever, was him. Glasses sliding down his nose, brown cardigan you bought him for your one-year anniversary taut around his arms. Kim Namjoon. “Uh…hi,” you said weakly as he glanced between you and that boy, the stranger’s eyes wide on you.

“Um…I heard some crashing over here and wanted to come check it out. Are you okay?” he asked, voice deep, eyes warm.

You swallowed the longing in your chest and nodded, watching the ground. “Yeah. We just…fell a little,” you said.

The stranger kept his eyes on you, pocketing his phone with a smirk. “Well…It’s good you’re okay,” said Namjoon, turning his attention to the boy at your side. “Who’s this?”

The boy smiled and held out a hand for Namjoon to shake. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, lowering his gaze. “Who are you?”

Namjoon’s posture went a bit rigid. You’d never seen him have a reaction like that to someone before. He was an amicable guy with an even temper. Awkward sometimes, but never territorial. In fact, when you’d found out about him seeing someone else he even suggested an open relationship. But the way he stared at that Jungkook kid made it clear what was on his mind. And it wasn’t happy. Why now was he so interested in your possible love life? You felt your interest pique and inched slightly closer to Jungkook. Something in the set of Namjoon’s jaw made the cogs in your brain spin slowly.

And the hurt you’d been running from manifested itself in spite.

“Kim Namjoon,” he said with a polite, dimpled smile. He pulled his hand away and glanced back at you. “How have you been lately?”

You peeked up at Jungkook who was still watching Namjoon with a smirk and nodded. “Um, good. I’m fine,” you said, turning back to Namjoon. His eyes were dark, clouded. How vindictive you were to find that so pleasing. “Just spending time with Kookie.”

Jungkook went still beside you, quickly whipping his head to look at you with round eyes. “Kookie?” he asked.

You smiled and laced your fingers through his. “Sorry. It’s embarrassing right?” you asked.

His wide eyes traveled the length of your arm to find your locked hands. The kid seemed smart. You hoped he’d catch on quickly. “Ah,” he said with a smirk, smoothing your hair with his free hand. “Didn’t we agree that you’d only call me that in private?”

Relief.

You blushed and glanced away. “Sorry,” you said. “I forgot.”

Namjoon offered a tight smile and nodded. “Ah, well it’s good that you’re doing well. I’ve gotta get to class,” he said, consulting the watch on his wrist before giving you a real smile, a slightly melancholy one. “Let’s catch up sometime okay?”

You nodded. “Sure thing.”

He waved over his shoulder before hurrying into the courtyard and, once he was out of earshot, your shoulders fell and you pulled your hand away from Jungkook’s. “Thank you,” you breathed, hands on your knees as you steadied yourself.

Jungkook gave a light chuckle and patted your back. “Gotta say, I feel a little used.”

You stood straight and met his eyes. “I’m sorry. It was just the wrong time and place for you,” you said, sighing.

He smirked and pulled out his cell phone once more, holding it in front of your eyes. “Hm,” he hummed.

You furrowed your brow. “Still with the number?” you asked, exhausted. “Listen, you just saw what happened. Clearly I’m still hung up on my ex and-,”

“Not for a date,” he said, narrowing his eyes and waving the phone. “For my compensation.”

“Com-…compensation?”

He nodded with a sick smile and placed the phone in your hands. “You think I’m a pro bono actor?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “Think again, babe.”

You swallowed your disbelief and slowly took the phone from his fingers, typing your name into the address app. You lifted your eyes to find Jungkook staring down at you with a smile. You weren’t getting out of it, that much was clear. So, with a sigh that made your shoulder ache you typed in a number.

Y/N

123-456-7890

“I’m sorry, Coach,” you said, head bowed.

Coach Lee sighed and patted your left shoulder, the one not wrapped in a compression bandage. “It’s not your fault,” she said gently.

You glanced up to see her smiling softly at you as you sat on the bench. “I…I really wanted to be able to cheer at the game tomorrow. I don’t wanna let the team down. And I don’t wanna let you down either! God, I shouldn’t have been so careless. I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked me off the team altogether now and-,”

“Y/N,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re fine. You’ll be benched until you heal properly. You can still do the chants with the rest of the girls.”

You sat upright and stared at her with wide eyes. “Really?”

She nodded. “As long as you can lift your shoulder,” she said, eyeing you carefully.

You swung your right arm skyward and, even though pain shot through you, you smiled through it and nodded. “Definitely!” you said.

She laughed. “Just…take it easy, okay? You’re not getting kicked off,” she said, adjusting the zipper on her tracksuit with a smile. “You’re a good spotter. It’d be a shame if you made your condition worse by overworking it.”

Your heart swelled with pride and you nodded. “I won’t, Coach!”

God were you bored. Sitting on the bench with the water cooler and the pompoms, forced to watch all your friends on the running track flipping and dancing, made you crazy. You rested your elbows on your knees and watched Yeri fly through the air, snapping just right, before plummeting back down into the girls’ hands. You could have cushioned her fall better…

The crowd behind you cheered for the girls as they clapped upon finishing their routine. You cheered too, careful not to lift your shoulder too high for fear of making it worse. Coach patted Yeri’s shoulder with a smile and she beamed, jogging towards me with a bright grin. She pushed a stray piece of fringe out of her face and settled beside you.

“How was it?” she asked.

You nodded and gave a thumbs-up. “You did great,” you said. “Your best basket toss, I’d say.”

The praise caused her cheeks to blush and her warm eyes nearly disappeared in a smile. “I hope my parents saw,” she said, glancing over your head into the bleacher full of eager fans.

You patted the top of her head. “I’m sure they did.”

She glanced at you and, upon noticing your expression, sighed and rubbed your good shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry you have to sit here,” she said.

You shook your head and smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll just recover quickly and get back out there. Coach said I’m a good spotter.”

Yeri nodded and squeezed the top of your knee. “You’re naturally athletic,” she said. “You’ll heal quick. Just like my brother.”

You raised your brows. “He’s a quick healer?” you asked.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, picking at a cuticle. “Has to be. Since he plays, like, every sport known to man he gets hurt a bunch. He’s basically a pro,” she said, then snapped her fingers and pointed at you. “That’s right! I was supposed to point him out, right?”

You glanced out towards the field and watched the soccer players dance around the ball, kicking it to one another and running like fluid down the grass. If nothing else, being benched meant you got to watch a pretty engaging soccer game twice a week.

“That’s right,” you said, nodding.

She sighed. “Don’t look so gloomy,” she whined, pulling on your arm. “I thought you were excited to see my brother!”

You raised your brows. After seeing Namjoon, you didn’t really find much fun in teasing Yeri about her playboy brother anymore. Your spirits fell whenever you thought about boys lately, even boys related to your best friend. But when you met her expectant eyes, you smiled anyway. She was doing her very best to cheer you up, and that effort ought to be met with gratitude.

You nodded. “Which one is he?”

“Number fifty-eight,” she said, pointing out at the field.

Every player was reduced to a speeding dot in your vision, the game moving too quickly to catch any one person or the number on their red jerseys. They blazed across the field like flashes and, try as you might, you couldn’t distinguish any 58 on the grass. You squinted, leaning forward on your knees, and placed a hand above your brows to shield the evening sun. The ball sailed out of bounds on the side and the referee blew his whistle, awaiting a member of your university’s team to join him and throw the ball back into play. A tall senior rushed over, leaving the rest of the players to stand still and wait.

You scanned the boys more carefully now and, finally, you found 58. His back was turned to you, but he was tall and lean, slender arms dangling at his sides as he waited for the ball, dark hair pressed flat against the back of his head from sweat. He rested a hand on his hip as he awaited the ball and turned his head slightly towards the bleachers. That was when you caught sight of his face. He was pretty far away, but you recognized him immediately. That profile was too distinctive. Strong jaw, rounded nose, deep-set dark eyes.

It was Jungkook.

You stiffened. Not only had you given him an obviously fake number, you’d been arriving at your class late the past few days to avoid seeing him altogether. You were sure that if he noticed you, he’d ensnare you, expose you in front of Yeri for the embarrassing thing you did, and force you to…compensate. You shuddered at the thought. What would a handsome, sporty jock possibly want for compensation?

“You see him?” she asked, pointing at the boy with a scoff. “God, he’s so cocky. Look at him, looking around like he owns the field.”

You blinked at him and nodded. “Yeah.”

Yeri grinned at you and turned her knees towards yours. She settled her gaze on you. “I’m the better looking sibling, right?”

You met her eyes and nodded with a laugh. You angled your body away from the field and smiled at her. If you could just manage to slip his notice for the rest of the game, then maybe you could ask Coach Lee to let you miss the next few games to recover. You’d be free.

“Definitely,” you said, peeking out the corner of your eye at the field once more. The game had resumed, only this time one player was standing still, facing the bleachers slack-jawed.

Number 58 stared right at you and, as your eyes locked, he tilted his head to the side, sending you a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Good job girls! I expect to see that same energy this Friday!” called Coach Lee as you all gathered around her. You’d strategically angled yourself away from the field where the soccer players huddled, standing on the fringe of the group and hopping foot to foot.

“Yes, Coach!” you called in unison, but your voice was half a beat late, too preoccupied watching the gaggle of athletes surrounding their own coach.

Jungkook took periodic glances towards the cheerleaders, almost grazing you a few times, but you were careful to shield yourself with one of the taller spotters. You glanced around her shoulder as the soccer players broke formation and started towards the water cooler. You stiffened as the mass of boys approached, edging towards Yeri who stood beside you, grinning as she sipped her apple juice.

“I’m gonna go early,” you whispered in her ear.

She glanced at you and nodded. “Get some rest,” she said with a small wave.

Coach Lee continued on for a moment as you inched on your tiptoes towards the parking lot. You pulled your duffel bag up around your shoulders, taking quick, small steps past the bleachers. Families and students formed a stream for you to get lost in and you eagerly fell into step. You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that the cheerleaders and soccer players had practically merged, chatting and hydrating as one amorphous group. You exhaled in relief. You’d left at the right time after all, even if Coach Lee hadn’t finished her monologue yet. With a soft smile, you headed out onto the asphalt, stretching your torso under the yellow streetlights. Cars zoomed past you in the lot as you made your way towards the sidewalk.

You grabbed your phone from your duffel bag, drafting a text to Yeri asking about the end of Coach Lee’s announcements, as you neared the stairs leading down to the subway station. But as you took a step towards the stairs, you felt your body yanked backwards by the strap of your bag and your breath escaped in a gasp. You’d never been assaulted on your way to the subway before, and with an injured shoulder you knew you weren’t in shape to fight.

Nonetheless, you raised your fists, clutching your phone in your palm and spinning towards your attacker. You set your feet shoulder-width apart and steeled your gaze, but as you took in the person who’d pulled you back, your eyes went wide and a different sort of dread overtook you.

Jungkook stared down at you with a smirk and laughed a few times, cocking his head to the side. “I thought it was you,” he said, eyes falling to the short hem of your skirt before finding yours once more. “You look good.”

Your posture relaxed and you sighed. “Jesus,” you mumbled. “I thought you were trying to kidnap me!” you shouted, pointing at him.

He laughed. “Me? Kidnap you?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. But I don’t need to kidnap girls to get them to go home with me.”

“Gross,” you breathed, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Don’t you have…like, a post-game ritual to do or something?”

He pursed his lips and glanced at the ground, long lashes dusting across his cheekbones. “Well,” he said, taking a wide step towards you. “A certain girl who owes me big time gave me a fake number.”

Your eyes went wide and you cleared your throat. “Sounds like a handful. Best to just forget about her,” you said, angling your body towards the busy stairs beside you, leading you to freedom.

He grabbed your wrist and smiled down at you. You hated yourself, but the dewy sheen of sweat sparkling on his skin looked awfully pretty in the streetlights to you. “Like I said,” he began, pulling you closer by the wrist. “She owes me.”

His hand slipped from your wrist to your palm and your heart raced, eyes wide. What was he trying? You focused on his chest instead of his mischievous eyes. Why did he look so good in a jersey too? His fingers played with yours, bowing his head towards yours with a smirk as he inched closer.

And then, all at once, he pulled away. In his hand was your cell phone and he swung it in front of your eyes like he was parading a prize from a fair. He grinned and, as reality dawned on you, stepped back to counter your step forward and began typing rapidly in your phone. You lunged at him, grabbing for the phone in his hand, but he was too quick. Every movement you made, he parried. It became like a dance, with you as the aggressor and him as the charismatic pacifist, side-stepping and sliding and ducking from each of your moves.

With a smile, he eventually handed the phone back and stepped away. “I texted myself so you can’t just delete my number,” he said.

You stared down at your phone and blinked at the new contact he’d created. Handsome Jungkook. You scowled. “I-,”

“And don’t think about ignoring me. If you do, I’m telling that math guy that you and your Kookie are fake news,” he said with a smile.

The math guy. Namjoon?

You stiffened and stared up at him. “Hey! That’s super dirty!” you shouted.

He nodded. “Yup,” he said, patting your head and turning on his heel. He waved without looking at you as he sauntered back towards the lights of the field. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you called back, cupping your hands around the sides of your mouth so he’d hear you.

All you received in response was a charming laugh and another lazy wave.

Handsome Jungkook: Starbucks. 10 minutes.

Y/N: I live fifteen minutes away by bus…

Handsome Jungkook: Oooh! Better run ;)

You huffed as you threw open the coffee shop door, panting as you pushed your hair from your face. You scanned the dimly lit store, the baristas pausing to look at you with wide eyes, and sighed as you found no Jungkook there. Of course, he’d made you get there early while he was late. Over the course of a week and a half, Jungkook had effectively made you his assistant. Or perhaps his slave. Upon many other things, he had called you out of class to massage his calves, made you leave practice early to buy him banana milk from the convenience store, and now awoken you on a Friday morning and forced you to sprint like a mad woman to the Starbucks near campus when your classes didn’t start until noon.

Only to arrive late himself.

You scowled and fished around your backpack for your wallet, approaching the register with a defeated sigh. “Good morning!” called the barista with a grin.

You returned it and glanced at the menu. “One green tea latte,” you began, then pursed your lips. Jungkook had outlined his favorite things for you the day after he’d stolen your number, saying they’d come in handy for you: Troye Sivan, horror movies, bowling, and iced black coffee. Only iced. “And one iced coffee,” you finished with a nod.

The barista swiped your card and you waited beside the serving bar with your phone in your hand. Yeri had been texting you nonstop for the past few days, meaning your life was more or less dominated by the Jeon siblings. It wasn’t that you disliked either of them, and in fact you really loved Yeri, but between her constant barrage of messages and her brother’s obnoxious demands which you couldn’t share with her, you felt a little trapped.

Yeririri: Literally hate him.

Y/N: Brother?

Yeririri: Who else?

Y/N: What did he do now?

Yeririri: He wouldn’t help me with my history paper which is due T O D A Y because he’s getting coffee before class and when I asked if I could come along he told me I was annoying and said he wouldn’t drive me.

Yeririri: Like??? Who is he??? Why is he like this???

You sighed and rubbed your forehead. It seemed Yeri was complaining about Jungkook more often lately. You wondered if he was being especially troublesome or if she was just testy, but you couldn’t very well ask either of them. Not only was Yeri forbidden from knowing your agreement with her brother, but Jungkook pretty weird about talking about himself. In an effort to alleviate some of the awkwardness that came from massaging his stiff calves one afternoon, you’d asked if being the golden child had finally caught up with him and he’d shut you down with a mumbled response and a sharp look. You hadn’t dared ask again.

“You seem focused,” said a voice from beside you.

You stiffened and glanced to the side, locking your phone and gazing into the warm amber eyes of your ex-boyfriend, smiling softly down at you. Your posture went rigid and you cleared your throat, glancing away. “It’s Yeri.”

“Ah…how’s she doing?” he asked.

You smiled. “Good. She’s energetic,” you said with an awkward laugh. “Like always.”

He joined you and smiled, dimples appearing in his full cheeks. You looked away. “Um…I know it’s a little weird, but I’d really like to talk with you again,” he said, nudging his glasses up his nose. “Just as friends of course!” he added, waving his hands.

Your eyes went wide and you inhaled sharply. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joon,” you said, then cursed yourself for using that affectionate nickname. The name with memories attached.

He nodded and smiled at you. “I understand. I…I was stupid, wasn’t I?” he asked, watching the baristas, his gaze taking that pensive look that always made your heart race. Even now. “I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“It’s fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s in the past anyway.”

He mimicked your posture. “I’m glad you’re not still hurt about it,” he said with a smile your way.

Why was he so cruel? Smiling at you that way even after breaking your heart?

You smiled back. “Me too,” you said, but it was spoken with gritted teeth. An obvious lie.

He placed a hand on your injured shoulder and you winced, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was about to speak, when someone beat him to it.

“Baby,” whined a voice from behind you, arms wrapping around your stomach and a chin resting on your good shoulder. Namjoon’s hand fell and the ache subsided.

Your heart pounded, cheeks warming, and you turned only your eyes to the side to see Jungkook’s sleepy, handsome face right beside yours. You felt hot and frazzled, but he seemed so calm. What was he doing?

You blinked at him and furrowed your brow. “Uh…morning,” you said.

He pouted his lips and held you closer, your back pressed against his chest, rocking you slightly side to side. “You didn’t order something for yourself and forget about me, right?” he asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Of course I got you something. Would I hear the end of it if I didn’t?” you asked.

He smirked and nudged your head with his. “Nope,” he said, still swaying. “Ah! It’s Namjoon!” he said, as if he’d only just noticed the tall boy watching the two of you from the side.

Jungkook released your torso and instead wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind, placing his chin atop the crown of your head. “Nice to see you,” said Namjoon with a tight smile.

You watched his expression sour just looking at Jungkook. You watched his eyes fall to Jungkook’s arms wrapped about your collarbone, to his hands holding both of your shoulders. Again, something feral passed through his eyes. Something that was entirely absent when the two of you were together. Although you knew better, that horrible vindictive part of you raised a hand to hold onto Jungkook’s forearm, rubbing it slightly with your thumb. Were you feeling things, or did Jungkook’s grip tighten slightly at your touch?

“You too,” said Jungkook, pulling you closer.

“One green tea latte and one iced coffee?” called the barista, glancing out at the group of folks around you.

You slipped out from beneath Jungkook’s arms and grabbed the drinks, holding your warm cup close to your face with a sigh. “Ready to go?” you asked.

Jungkook nodded, taking the plastic cup from your hand. “Mhm. I don’t have class for another hour.”

You stiffened, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged and turned on his heel. “What?”

You fumed, clutching your cup a little tighter. “You woke me up…to get you coffee…an hour before your class started?” you asked, disbelief coloring your features.

He shrugged and tossed his head towards the door. “It’s not that much time. I usually get to campus two hours before class so I can practice.”

You gaped. “T-two…,” you began, shaking your head, and turned to Namjoon who watched with a tense smile. You waved at him, taking a few steps towards Jungkook. “It was nice to see you, Namjoon,” you said softly.

He met your eyes and nodded. “Yeah…,” he said, glancing between you and Jungkook before sighing and offering a smile. “I hope I can see you again soon.”

You blinked a few times, startled by his words and the sincerity in his voice, before nodding and rushing to Jungkook’s side. Once you were near enough, Jungkook grabbed your free hand in his and laced your fingers. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Jungkook’s hands were pretty soft and his touch was always gentle. You blushed and shook your head as the two of you walked out onto the sidewalk. Why would you think something weird like that?

Jungkook walked beside you, sipping his coffee with his eyes on the ground, hand still clasped around yours. “Um…,” you began.

He nodded at the ground. “This is good coffee.”

“It’s just Starbucks…”

“And it’s good.”

You furrowed your brow and glanced down at your fingers laced through his. “Jungkook, why are you still holding my hand?” you asked.

He shrugged, leading the two of you towards the courtyard. “I dunno.”

You tilted your head to the side and thought. Wasn’t this bad for his reputation? The handsome womanizer, the guy every girl wants a piece of, the muscle boy who breaks hearts? You opened your mouth to ask, but closed it quickly. Why should you care? Yeri was your friend, and this guy was…well, he was something else. A debt collector maybe. There was no reason for you to care about what he did or why.

You sighed and stood still as the two of you approached the fountain. He turned to you with round eyes and his lips puckered around his straw. Dammit. “Aren’t you scared you’re gonna scare off your other girlfriends?”

He raised his brows and sat down on the edge of the fountain, pulling you to stand between his knees. “I don’t have any other girlfriends.”

You glanced away and thought a moment. “Then your hookups?”

“Why would they care that I’m holding your hand?” he asked.

Huh. Why would they after all? It wasn’t like he’d ever promised them monogamy. “I guess they wouldn’t…”

He chuckled and released your hand, to your immense relief. You slowly sat beside him and watched his profile, outlined by the morning sun. “It kinda helps me out too,” he said. “Our arrangement.”

You scoffed. “Of course it does. You get free things and a lackey to do whatever you want,” you said, sipping your latte with a scowl.

He laughed, resting his hands palms down on the fountain’s edge. “Not just that. It’s like…ugh, whatever. Forget it.”

His voice trailed off and he drank his coffee with his eyes on the ground between his feet. His shoulders bunched slightly as he leaned back on one hand. You scanned his features. Yeri had mentioned that he was a really talented kid, that he’d always been the star of the family. His list of activities was immense. His reputation was extensive. You wondered briefly if that was tiring. If maybe he didn’t want to be the golden child for a little while.

But then again, why would you care about something like that?

He sighed heavily into his drink and lifted his eyes to watch the early morning commuters rush across his field of vision on their way to class. He pursed his lips before watching the ground again. You caught a flash of something a little melancholy in his eyes.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“Tell me,” you said, watching him carefully from his side.

His eyes widened before he glanced at you. “What?”

“I’m curious now,” you said with a shrug. “You can’t just start a sentence and not finish. It’s really rude.”

He chuckled. “Yeah?” he asked.

You watched the clear blue sky, taking a swig, and avoided his gaze. “Well yeah.”

He smiled at his lap and nodded. “It’s just…I’m not really as good as people think I am.”

You sputtered your latte and stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Not like that!” he said, waving his hands frantically. “What I mean is, like…with girls. I’m not really good at it. Feelings and stuff.”

You raised a brow and patted your chest. “You’re not?”

He shook his head. “It’s been kinda nice not getting bothered by girls,” he said with a shrug. “I…I don’t really like…hook up with them most of the time. Seems weird, you know? Especially since most of them approach me at parties because they’ve heard of me. They’re always going on about how cool I look on the field or how strong I am or whatever. It felt nice at first, but after a while I just sort of…got sick of it.”

You nodded slowly and twiddled your thumbs. “And since I’ve been around…they’ve been leaving you alone?”

He nodded. “Mostly,” he said. “I probably sound like a big douche, complaining about all the girls who like me.”

You laughed. “Kinda,” you said with a smile. “But I know you don’t mean it that way.”

He met your eyes with his wide ones and cleared his throat. “You do?”

You shrugged. “It must be exhausting. Having to always be Jeon Jungkook, Number Fifty-Eight. Always…on.” You stuck your tongue out and shook your head. “It’d be better if people wanted to be around you just because you’re you. Jungkook.”

He watched you carefully from your side and blinked a few times. “Yeah…,” he said, scanning your face. “That’s exactly it.”

You sighed and crossed one leg over the other, rolling your eyes. “Kinda stupid, isn’t it? How a whole person can be boiled down to one or two things like that. Jungkook the jock. Jungkook the player,” you said with a shrug. Namjoon had had a similar experience in his family. Namjoon the smart one… You remembered how much it had bothered him. “People are complicated.”

You also remembered how different Namjoon been once you’d started dating. Gone was the sweet, shy bookworm you thought he was. In his place was a fun, outgoing, nontraditional, and admittedly foolish Kim Namjoon. The one who thought that by deviating from his family’s expectations by dating someone more focused on athletics than academics he would feel fulfilled. The one who ended up still feeling empty anyway and finding other ways to fill that space. Other girls…

You sighed. “It’d be nice if we could all just be our real selves and save each other the hurt,” you said.

Jungkook blinked at you before nodding his head. “I think so too.”

You crossed your arms and set your jaw, furrowing your brow. You were working yourself up again. “Like I’d much rather know all the bad stuff beforehand so I can choose to get attached or not, you know? If you don’t like commitment, then tell me outright so I don’t build up all of these expectations based on something that isn’t real.” You huffed and shook your head. “Stupid.”

Despite your frustrations, Jungkook gave a breathy laugh and leaned away from you, simply watching you with a sweet smile. He tilted his head to the side and continued smiling at you. You blushed under his gaze and rubbed your forearm. His smile was warm and very fond, the apples of his cheeks tinted slightly pink. His eyes watched yours, switching back and forth, sunlight sending shafts of gold through them. He didn’t move, didn’t lean in towards you like you might have expected, didn’t say a single word. Just smiled, revealing his two front teeth slightly. Like a rabbit.

Was he always this cute?

You shook your head and glanced away, clearing your throat. “Anyway…I’m sorry for hijacking the conversation. I told you to talk and I’m the one who ended up talking.”

“Talk more.”

You flushed and turned to him with wide eyes. “Huh?”

He laughed. “I mean…I liked listening. So…um…feel free, you know?” he asked, smile turning bashful as he looked away. “Ah, and there’s a party tonight after the game.”

“Okay.”

“We’re going.”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?” you asked, shaking his shoulder.

He laughed and captured your hand in his, holding it on your lap. “Unless you want me to tell Namjoon about-,”

“No!” you shook your head then sighed and met his eyes. “But really? After all that, you’re still gonna blackmail me?” you asked, shoulders slumping.

He laughed and squeezed your hand. Why was the gesture somewhat endearing? “That’s one thing my reputation got right about me: I’m an opportunist.”

You sat on the bench, nudging dirt around with the tip of your tennis shoe, and sighed into the evening air. Jungkook was doing well as always, racing up and down the field and sending you sly looks when he neared you. You were always quick to glance away. He hadn’t been like this at other games during the past week and a half. Why now? You twiddled your thumbs, fingers clasped on your lap, but something felt weird. Different. After holding Jungkook’s hand…

You shook your head and focused on Yeri, pulling her leg over her head and holding it there, a picture-perfect scorpion. Gracefully, she fell back into the spotters’ arms and posed with them as the routine ended. She ran to your side and sat beside you.

You grinned at her. “Beautiful,” you said, raising your hand for a high five.

She beamed and slapped your palm with hers. “Thank you! I honestly wouldn’t have been able to do it if you weren’t such a hard-ass about stretching.”

You shut your eyes and nodded your head. “Of course. I shall take full credit for your scorpion.”

She smacked your arm and the two of you laughed before her eyes traveled to the field and widened. You followed her gaze to find Jungkook standing with a hand on his hip, facing you with a full-body wave. You stiffened and looked at Yeri whose horrified face revealed all her emotions.

“Ew!” she shouted. “Why is he doing that?” she asked.

You shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it’s for you.”

“Y/N!” he shouted from the field, voice ricocheting around the bleachers.

Your back went rigid and you turned slowly to Yeri, her mouth agape. “Is he insane?” she asked.

“For you!” yelled Jungkook, pointing at you before rushing down the field to join the rest of the guys.

He seized the ball from the opposing team, easily weaving his feet around the other player’s, and kicked it hard down the other side. He followed it quickly, the other players running just a few paces behind him. As he passed you, he sent out a heart with his index finger and thumb and sprinted faster, catching the ball between his cleats and giving it a proper kick. The ball sailed through the air, arcing up towards the sky and then down towards the earth almost too fast to see. The opposing goalie leapt to catch it, but their hands were just a few millimeters too short and the ball slipped into the net with a swoosh.

“He…he must be crazy…,” mumbled Yeri with her mouth still gaping. “Was he listening whenever I talked about you?”

You nodded vigorously, but as his teammates rallied around him and roughed him up, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his bright, glowing smile. Your heart clenched a little before galloping ahead with a start, pounding in your ears. Your face was red from ear to ear. How long had it been since someone had made your heart race like this? You blinked at him as he stood radiant beneath the field’s bright lights, laughing and smiling with his teammates. Amidst the chaos, Jungkook found a break in the crowd and met your eyes, smiling grandly and throwing a hand in the air for a wave.

Your breath hitched.

Oh God, not again…

The party was in full swing, drunk soccer players and cheerleaders dancing and singing in some senior’s apartment. It wasn’t necessarily your scene. While you considered yourself a pretty fun girl, you weren’t drinking tonight — for your own good, honestly. You weren’t too sure what you’d do with Jungkook if you weren’t sober — and despite being an excellent spotter, you weren’t the best dancer. You and Yeri had arrive together with a few of the other cheerleaders, giggling and chatting easily until the group eventually disbanded into smaller clumps. Yeri held your hand the entire way in and, despite the fact that she was now engaged in a conversation with a beefy soccer player which you were decidedly not involved in, she held it just as tight. You suspected she was suspicious of Jungkook after his big display at the game. Truthfully, you wanted to ask him about it. Why had he made such a grand, public gesture?

Luckily, it seemed the charming boy wanted to talk to you too…

Handsome Bunny: Where are you? Thought we agreed we were coming together >:)

Y/N: Dude…I’m with your sister. Who is here, by the way. You know. At this party. That we are supposed to be at together…

Handsome Bunny: I don’t follow…?

Y/N: She’s gonna find out!

Handsome Bunny: ??? And?

Y/N: We agreed for the safety of both of our lives that she wouldn’t find out.

Handsome Bunny: hah dat’s rite, i 4got

Y/N: Why are you typing like that?

Handsome Bunny: idk lol

Y/N: Stop it…

Handsome Bunny: come dnce w me n i will

Y/N: I-

Y/N: This isn’t fair :-(

Y/N: omw…

You slipped your hand from Yeri’s carefully, mindful not to move too much and rouse her attention, and slinks through the crowd into the middle of the living room. You looked around on your tiptoes, glancing over heads and around shoulders looking for Number 58. You crossed your arms and sighed, furrowing your brow and reaching into your satchel in search of your phone. Did this boy just like sending you on wild goose chases for him?

“Boo,” said a deep voice as hands found your hips and spun you around.

Gasping, you glanced up and saw Jungkook’s bright eyes, a smile on his face as he looked down at you. Your heart jumped and you swallowed hard, trying to settle it down. He’d changed out of his jersey unlike the rest of the team, opting for a big black shirt and ripped jeans. As he pulled you closer, you caught a whiff of his cologne: fresh and springy, but still sharp. You pursed your lips at him and thought for a moment. Why had he applied cologne?

“Did you shower?” you asked.

His eyes went wide before he laughed and grabbed your hands, placing them on his shoulders as the two of you swayed. You would have fought if Yeri wasn’t so preoccupied with that boy, but for this one moment you gave in. “How could you tell?”

You chuckled. “Well, you’re not sweaty so I could only assume.”

He glanced down at his clothes and laughed. “You’re sharp,” he teased with a smile, stepping slightly closer to you so your bodies were flush. “I didn’t want you to think I was smelly.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would that matter?”

He shrugged and glanced away, smiling at the ground. “Dunno.”

You recalled his show on the field and gave his chest a firm smack. “What was that at the game today? Why’d you do that?” you asked.

He turned to you with round, innocent eyes, hands soft on your hips. “What do you mean?”

“That whole,” you paused to wave your hand, “‘for you’ thing. You know? The goal.”

He smiled and dipped his head close to yours. “Did you like it?” he asked.

Your eyes went wide and you cleared your throat, glancing away. You chewed on your lower lip. “Dunno.”

He laughed and shook you a little. “You liked it didn’t you?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It was…kinda cool. So what?” you asked, meeting his eyes.

He nodded and spun the two of you in a circle with a laugh. “I just got excited when I noticed an opening. I wanted to dedicate it to you,” he said.

Your eyes went wide and met his. He wore a similarly shocked expression, as if surprised by his own admission. “Why would you do that?” you asked.

He coughed a little and shrugged, looking away. “You’ve been doing stuff for me lately and I was just feeling thankful or whatever,” he began, then his eyes snapped towards yours. “Ah, and one of the girls on the cheer team won’t stop texting me even though you and I are…you know…so I wanted to, like, send her a message or something.”

His explanation, rather a rushed flurry of words strung loosely together, seemed strange to you. But you had no reason to question him, and even if you did you wouldn’t have done it. You didn’t want to get your hopes up again only to be disappointed. To be honest, when he said he’d wanted to dedicate it to you…you’d felt a little happy. But hearing that the gesture, much like your whole arrangement, was only for show made your chest feel a little hollow.

So you simply nodded and swayed with him. “Good plan,” you said, watching the dancers over his shoulder.

“Are you mad?” he asked, timid.

You furrowed your brow and glanced at him. “Not at all,” you said. “I was worried that Yeri would catch on, but she thinks it’s just because she talked about me a lot to you. She thinks you’re teasing her.”

“Oh…,” he mumbled, nodding.

You met his eyes and set your jaw seriously. “If you let it slip to Yeri, you’re dead,” you whispered tersely. “And so am I…”

“She’s gonna find out sooner or later,” he said, pouting slightly. “Why not just tell her?”

You cocked a brow. “Tell her what exactly?” you asked. “That I’m fake-dating her brother?”

He opened his mouth as if to respond, but closed it and nodded with a sigh. “Fake,” he repeated. “You’re right. That really doesn’t sound good.”

You nodded. “So, zip it tight,” you ordered, placing your index finger on the corner of his lips, then swiping it across to the other side.

His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink. You blinked at your finger, still touching his warm cheek, and coughed a little, placing your hand once more against his shoulder. The two of you danced close, almost too close, and you didn’t feel like you needed alcohol to become intoxicated. He cleared his throat and, almost cautiously, slid his hands around your sides, joining them at your lower back. You felt weak, but you couldn’t help but press yourself just a little closer. He dipped his head down beside yours, cheek brushing against your ear. Your heart was beating so fast that your pulse sounded like whitewater.

You didn’t think you’d ever like the feeling of someone’s touch after Namjoon. At least not for a long time. But here you were, chest flush with Jungkook’s as the ends of his hair tickled your shoulder, his breath fanning out across your neck and raising goosebumps on your skin. You could hardly hear the music. Had the two of you always had this chemistry? Or was it new? You couldn’t be certain, but in that moment all of your senses were focused on him, him, him.

“You know,” he whispered, the sound featherlight in your ear. “Yeri does talk about you a lot.”

Your back stiffened as he began smoothing his palms against it. “Oh…”

“I always thought you seemed like a nice person,” he said. “I guess I kinda built up this idea of what you’d be like through Yeri.”

You flushed, heart thundering, butterflies dancing in your stomach. “Y-You did?”

He nodded and pressed himself impossibly close, sighing. “You always seemed like the kind of person I’d like a lot,” he said. “So when that Namjoon guy came up when we met, I was really surprised.”

“Bad surprised?”

He laughed lightly and his grip on you changed from a loose hold to a gentle embrace. “Kind of,” he said. “From what Yeri said, you had a really bad breakup a few months ago with a guy. I always thought someone as cool and strong as you would get her heart broken by someone a little more impressive.”

You rolled your eyes and pinched his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He smiled lightly against the skin of your neck. “Anyway, I’m glad I’m getting to know you on my own now. Getting to know you as yourself and not as Yeri’s Y/N.”

You smiled softly. “I’m kinda glad too,” you said. “I’m happy I get to know you as you and not Yeri’s Jungkook.”

He exhaled and your skin felt hot. Why were you doing this? Why were your arms locked around his neck? Why were you pushing closer and closer? Why did you want him to stay there? After all you’d been through, why now did your heart start racing again?

He pulled away slightly, letting his hands roam your sides as the music kept pumping. His eyes scanned your face, and yours scanned his. Every minute detail, you burned to memory. You weren’t sure how long this spell would last, but you were certain things were bound to return to normal eventually. You counted each freckle, especially the one beneath his lip. You noted each shade of brown in his eyes. You marked his long eyelashes as they swept above his cheeks, gaze smoldering from above.

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand from your side and brushed you hair from your face, expression vulnerable and soft. You watched him as he placed his fingers on your chin, tilting your face towards his. He only broke eye contact once to glance over your shoulder, but it was far too brief to concern you. You simply stared at him, immobile beneath his touch, and watched as he closed the distance between you. You watched until you could no longer keep your eyes open, and they slipped shut. You felt his breath close to your face, his lips ghosting over yours softly. The waiting was killing you, and while you knew he wasn’t playing with you, you could stand no more teasing. You tipped your face forward just slightly and your lips knocked against his. He responded with a soft gasp before, almost immediately, he reciprocated the kiss. He held you close by the waist, both hands back on your body, and tilted his head to accommodate you.

You felt feverish all over, his lips hot on yours as your passion mounted. Your hands tangled in his soft, freshly washed hair and you pressed your body close to his. He eased your lips apart and deepened the kiss as his hands found your hips, thumbs digging in slightly.

He was a dirty liar.

He was excellent with girls…

The two of you broke away, breathing heavily, as the song changed. You stared at him through your lashes and blinked a few times. His eyes shone brightly in the dark, hot room and he simply stared at you. You wondered what was on his mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a single word. His breaths were shallow for a moment, ragged, before he regained his composure. Your whole face was hot to the touch and your hands were still knotted in his hair.

“Jungkook, I-,” you began.

“Sorry,” he said in a soft pant. “That girl I mentioned before was coming over.”

Your body went stiff. That look over your shoulder. The one you’d noticed. You pulled away quickly and he stared at you with wide eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and touched your swollen lips with your fingertips. Horror coursed through you. Another lie, another veiled intention. Your chest ached.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” asked Yeri from beside you, grabbing your shoulder. “Were you and Jungkook just…?” She slid her gaze towards her brother and gagged, shaking her head.

You met his warm brown eyes and saw something there that unsettled you. It looked like regret. His lips were parted, cherry red from the kiss, and he shook his head softly. You fought the tightness in your throat and shook your head. “Ask your brother,” you spat, turning on your heel and rushing towards the front door.

You didn’t look back as he called after you.

Yeririri: Y/N…

Yeririri: Are you okay?

Yeririri: Jungkook explained everything to me.

Yeririri: I’m sorry this happened…

Yeririri: …

Yeririri: You liked him didn’t you?

You watched the river with a quiet sigh. Yeri had been sending you message after message the entire weekend, along with her stupid brother. You just wanted to enjoy your peaceful Sunday alone. Your shoulder was nearly healed, you’d finished all your coursework, and you had even managed to get some practice in at the university’s gym. Normally you weren’t so busy. You tended to take weekends to rest and catch up on TV shows. But every time you tried to sit on the couch and channel surf, your mind would wander. Your lips felt weird.

It wasn’t your first kiss or anything. You’d had your fair share of steamy moments. But this one…felt different. You hated to admit it, but Yeri was right. You had liked him. You’d seen a different side to him, the real side. And you’d liked what you’d seen. But it wasn’t the same for him. From the start, he only saw in you ways to benefit himself. He’d used you.

Just like Namjoon.

You ran your hands through your hair and lolled your head to the side, leaning forward against the railing separating you from the river. It was still just warm enough for the diehard athletes to play around in kayaks or paddle boards and you focused your gaze on the carefree water sports. You exhaled to yourself, watching the water shimmer in ripples as oars broke its surface. All around you was activity. Vibrant.

And you were being mopey.

You clapped your hands and dusted off the fronts of your jeans, resolving to continue your walk with a smile. It wasn’t like you to be so gloomy. You swung your arms a little as you walked along the paved path, passing older walkers and running kids as you traveled parallel to the river. You let the wind caress your skin and tried to let it clear your mind.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you pulled it out. Your eyes went wide and your steps halted as you read the name displayed on the screen. Danger - Kim Namjoon!! You blinked at it for a long moment. Yeri had urged you to delete his number as soon as he’d broken your trust, but some naive part of you always hoped that maybe he’d regret letting you go and call you up someday. You knew it was silly and unrealistic, but it had helped your sadness ease in the beginning.

But now you wished you’d followed her advice.

Should you run? Or should you face it?

You crossed your arms and furrowed your brow at your vibrating phone. Hadn’t you just complained to Jungkook about people being truthful about themselves? Hadn’t you just said you wished people would be upfront? And here you were, wavering as you held your phone and bit your nails like some nervous schoolgirl. But what were you nervous for?

When you thought about Namjoon now…

You felt nothing.

You slid your finger across the screen and confirmed the call, pressing your phone against your ear. “Hello?” you asked.

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting you to pick up,” he said with a laugh.

You smiled at your hands and nodded. “I wasn’t either,” you joked, pulling off the path to sit on a bench.

He chuckled. “Um…I…I called your boyfriend and asked if it was okay to call you and he said if you answered it was fine,” he said.

You stiffened and watched the water with a sad smile. Of course he had. “Ah.”

“I was just…I think we have some things to talk about,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah. I think so too.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I’m not trying anything,” he said. “I hate to say it, but that jock makes you way happier than I ever did. I can tell just by the way you talk to him.”

You smiled at your hands. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, at first I was kind of…offended? I guess?” He paused to laugh. “It’s stupid, but I always kinda figured you’d still be hung up on me. Kinda arrogant, right?”

“A little,” you said with a laugh. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Just…I guess seeing you with someone who makes you happy like that made me realize I really messed up with you,” he said. “I should have been honest from the beginning about what I wanted.”

“I agree.”

He laughed. “I guess I’m just asking for a second chance to be in your life,” he said. “As a friend.”

“A friend?” you asked, smiling to yourself. Namjoon had always been fun. You did feel a distinct absence in your life with him gone.

“If that’s okay!” he said quickly.

You smiled. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “A few weeks ago it wouldn’t be. But…I think I’ve finally settled my feelings for you.”

He sighed. “I’m so relieved. It’s been really heavy on my conscience since things ended,” he said. “So, uh…coffee?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll text you.”

“Bye, Joon,” you said pulling the phone away from your cheek.

As you ended the call, you noticed a notification onscreen. You’d received a text while you were talking with Namjoon. Curiously, you opened it and raised your brows when you saw what it was. It seemed Yeri had been typing and retyping her text to you until she’d finally gotten it right. You stared at it for a long time. You read it once, twice, three times. And then stood to your feet with a start.

Yeririri: Y/N…I really need to say something. I’ve been telling Jungkook about you since we became friends. You know how I am. I literally never shut up. So I guess…he’s had a crush on you since way before you met. He didn’t say it explicitly, but Mom kinda spilled the beans. He’s been weird all weekend, and Mom and Dad got worried so they took me to lunch to talk about it. Turns out, he’d been asking Mom for advice for months about what to do if he thinks he likes one of my friends. I guess he’d see the pictures of us together on SNS and…idk, this seems like it’s been going on a long time. I know I said not to fall for him, but…I think he already fell for you. And as much as I bitch about him, he does deserve to be happy.

Yeririri: Don’t worry too much and just listen to your heart, okay? You’ll know what the right thing is. I’m sure.

You tapped your foot anxiously, standing in the middle of the underground subway station. Commuters bustled around you, occasionally brushing your shoulder or nudging you with their bags. Yeri had said he was on his way back  to his apartment from campus, and mentioned that you could intercept him at the station. You’d thanked her, but she’d only sent you the puking emoji. You glanced at all the gates as folks scanned their cards and slipped through. You knew which line he’d be riding, since this station was where he transferred lines, so you kept your eye on that terminal. But nonetheless, you felt a little nervous. You weren’t sure what you were going to say or how. All you knew was that you needed to be honest with him.

“Y/N!” called a bright, familiar voice.

You turned towards it and saw Jungkook running towards you, his duffel bag slamming against the side of his body with every step. He paused in front of you, out of breath, and stared at you with wide eyes.

“Jungkook…why did you run?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Yeri texted saying you had something to tell me,” he said.

You flushed and nodded. He was still sweating slightly, hair pushed back off his forehead, eyes twinkling even in the dim subway station. His chest rose and fell quickly as he caught his breath.

“I do…,” you hedged, wringing your hands. “Um…so-,”

“Namjoon called you, didn’t he?” he asked, his voice falling in the noisy station.

You stiffened and met his dark eyes, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah.”

“You’re getting back with him, right?” he asked. “That was the whole point of this thing, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. It started out that way-,”

“Congrats,” he said, meeting your eyes with a forced smile. “Bet you’re happy, huh?”

You furrowed your brow. This was just like the first time you met. He wasn’t letting you get a word in. He was being Jeon Jungkook, Number 58. You frowned. “No. It’s not-,”

“You two do suit each other I guess,” he said with a scoff. “The brain and the cheerleader. Pretty funny.”

“Jungkook-,”

“Ah! You wanna be the one who ended things or should it be me?” he asked, pointing to himself with wide eyes.

You fumed. “Jeon Jungkook,” you began.

He smiled, eyes wide. “Mhm?”

“You’re an idiot,” you said.

He blinked at you, stunned, and shook his head. “What?”

You nodded. “You’re an idiot. And you’re childish,” you said with a sigh. “And you’re selfish sometimes. And you’re impulsive. Reckless. Way too confident.”

“Y/N-,”

“No, I’m talking,” you said firmly, meeting his eyes. “You said you like when I talk.” You crossed your arms and set your jaw, steely gaze on his. “You’re defensive and hard to read. You’re stubborn. And worst of all, you’re my best friend’s brother.”

He was quiet for a moment, just scanning you. “And?” he asked.

You cracked a smile. “And you made sure Namjoon wasn’t hurting my shoulder the other day at Starbucks,” you said with a chuckle. “You’re really kind. You’re diligent. And funny. And you’re driven. Surprisingly innocent. And sweet.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“God,” you mumbled, meeting his eyes with an anxiously skittering heart.

You reached up and took his cheeks in your hands. You lifted yourself onto your tiptoes and pulled him down to meet you halfway. Chastely, you pressed a kiss to his lips, eyes squeezed shut as your heart hammered and your hands shook. You stayed still for a long moment, waiting for him to reciprocate, but he didn’t move. You began to second guess yourself. You pulled away and stared up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, shaking your head as fear coursed through you. Had you misread the situation? Was Yeri wrong after all? Jungkook’s eyes were wide, shocked, and his hands were frozen at his sides. Had he been talking about a different friend of Yeri’s?

His eyes flashed across your face, tongue darting across his lips before, without warning, he dipped his head low and pressed his lips against yours. He took both your hands in his, lacing your fingers as he leaned into you. Your breath escaped in a sigh and he held your hands tighter. His lips moved softly against yours and you met him with just as much eagerness. The two of you stood with clasped hands in the middle of the station, people rushing all around you. Slowly, Jungkook’s hand crept to your waist and he pulled you closer, flush against his chest. He pulled away and smiled down at you.

“So…Namjoon?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead. “Old news.”

He grinned brighter. “Good.”

“And that girl? The cheerleader from the other night you were trying to dodge?” you asked with a smirk. “Is she here too?”

He groaned and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Can’t you just let me live? I’m shy.”

You scoffed. “In what world are you shy?”

He chuckled, the sound gentle and tangible against your body as it rumbled through his chest. “I like you, okay?”

You nodded. “I like you too.”

“And there was no other cheerleader,” he whispered, as if it was some big secret. “It was a lie. Friday night when I looked away, I was looking at Yeri.” He laughed and glanced away. “I kinda wanted her to find out.”

You laughed and smacked his chest as he lifted his head to smile at you. “Idiot.”

He laughed and tilted his head down to kiss you once more. Your heart raced and swelled, and even though you were nervous to give it to someone again, you knew Jungkook would be careful with that racing heart. And you’d take care of his too.