#it took me 3 days but I have cranked out 5 of these so maybe I am perhaps unstoppable?

[aurochsent]

send me a character and a number 1-100 and I'll draw them based on my spotify wrapped

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I want to use this very small, handmade crochet item from Forever21 to illustrate exactly how little they are paying artists:

These hair ties are $5 for the set. There's some somewhat tricksy stitchwork in those petals, and I think the center is embroidery, not crochet, so this hair tie took two skills.

I would guess each flower, depending on how fast you are, could take 30-60 minutes. Closer to 30, if you do make a lot of them. And I bet the goal is to make as many as you can in one sweatshop-hours workday so you'll paid by the quantity you can crank out. And I'm sure someone's triple-checking every last bit of your work to cut your pay down to the minimum.

As this is a set, I assume it's one of each color that's required to count as a batch. And you'll be paid some sort of even worse pittance for any unfinished batches you have left over.

For 5 bucks for three, Forever21 likely isn't paying more than a dollar a set. So, for, at best guess, 1.5 hours of work, someone's making a dollar. And that's if their work isn't being intentionally judged harshly to cut their pay further. Because I'm betting the wage on unfinished sets is maybe 20 cents a flower. On a very good day where the artist can make everything in sets and end an assumed 12-hour day with all sets complete, that's 8 sets. 8 dollars.

8 dollars for unstopped physical labor. So Forever21 can charge 5 bucks a card.

Now, if you can copy these and sell them yourself but don't know what to price them at, here's my pitch:

I have a standing rule that if it takes me more than 30 minutes to make, it's 10 bucks to sell. Because I think 20 bucks is a solid rate for my work on something like this. So, half of 20 is 10. I'm willing to eat the cost of materials as I can undoubtably make a whole bunch of little flowers off one skein of yarn. So, even if I choose a higher-priced yarn, the fact I can make 30 or 40 or 50 little flowers cuts down on the price of supplies.

Now, if I were selling online, I'd offer some sort of small discount for a group buy. 1 for $10. 2 for $18. 3 for $25. This can lead to people deciding to buy more rather than less, and while you do take a bit of a hit on the overall price, a larger sale is a larger sale.

If I were tabling somewhere, I'd be willing to use something like hair ties as an easy sale. I'd cut down my base price to, say $8 for 1. $15 for 2. $22 for 3. As someone who has tabled and been buying at a table, I cannot tell you how much people love a deal like that. Especially if you have a lot of colors to choose from. Not only that, but it's a sale that's much easier to make on day one (when people are trying to be careful with their spending) and on the final day (when people are nearly out of their spending money). You can get a lot of small sales that add up.

Obviously, Forever21 isn't going to price up like I just described. They are a fucking elder god of fast fashion and will not be changing their exploitation of artisans any time soon. But having an understanding of exactly how badly they treat workers and presenting a very average pricing from an artist who is trying to be fair to themself and their skill can be helpful for people who are trying to figure out how to put their money where their values are.

[demonfox38]

Completed - Shantae: Risky's Revenge

You know what? I did like that Capcom NES "Little Mermaid" game. You would be absolutely right about that.

Round Two of my "Play More Steam Games" year started off rough. Windows 11 sought to be a prima donna, refusing to render anything but a black screen for two of the games from my Steam library. Luckily, all it took was forcing the executables to run in a higher priority mode through System -> Display -> Graphics, but man. That was a two-hour headache I didn't need.

Of the two games I had tested, "Shantae: Risky's Revenge" won out in terms of priority. Granted, had I known what I do now, maybe I would have tabled this one for just a little longer. It wasn't exactly watching "The Empire Strikes Back" before "A New Hope", but it may have been watching "Attack of the Clones" before anything else!

The "Shantae" series in its current incarnation is a set of Metroidvania-styled games starring the titular Shantae, the often hired and fired protector of Scuttle Town (and Sequin Land) at large. When I say "in its current incarnation", I don't mean to imply any gameplay changes. What I am trying to say is that "Shantae" was both simultaneously notable and niche in its first incarnation. Notable, in that even I—some nobody kid from Iowa—knew about this game. Niche, in…well, let's just say poor sales and the general screwed-up state of the second-hand game market has resulted in this:

Dude, I own a physical copy of "Earthbound", and even those prices make me want to scream. Like, we can talk about how it might be wasteful to have companies like Limited Run Games reprint copies of games, but when this second-hand market the alternative…(Also, who do we have to bribe to get "Power Blade 2" re-released? Because JFC on those prices, too.)

Since the ancient days of the Game Boy Color, the Shantae series has had a more consistent game release schedule, cranking out a new Metroidvania about once every 3-5 years. This started with 2010's "Shantae: Risky's Revenge," the sequel to the aforementioned cult classic. In it, Shantae is tasked with securing three magic seals and recovering a stolen lamp from Risky Boots, her arch-nemesis from the previous game. Alongside a Belmont-esque hair whip attack, Shantae is also blessed with the ability to cast spells and transform into various creatures. Granted, given that these powers come to her via being half genie, you can imagine what a problem that stolen lamp just might turn out to be for her…

Originally, this game was released on the Nintendo DSi, a late-stage iteration of the Nintendo DS known for its implementation of a digital shop. Which, uh…I'm guessing isn't operational anymore. The iteration I played was the so-called "Director's Cut", which generally changed menu presentation and character artwork to use higher-resolution images. It seems like it also preserved a bonus mode that was made for an iOS version of the game, which feels a bit more substantial than just updating portraits.

Given the collapse of online shops, it's just lucky this game is available at all. (More reasons to go physical, right? Well, if game publishers ever put a complete product on their cartridges/discs in the modern era, anyway…)

There are two dichotomies in Metroidvania games that aren't often discussed. For me, these are offensive styles and end goals. See, "Metroid" games typically operate via fast ranged gameplay while "Castlevania" takes more methodical strikes, often keeping within slugging distance of its foes (Charlotte Aulin and arguably Shanoa being exemptions.) Extending from that, "Metroid" games are more rewarding for speed than item collection/map completion, while "Castlevania" games tend to reward meeting extensive collecting goals or world exploration. (There are some exceptions here too for the "Metroid" series, but it's usually more about getting tits and TFO than how many lore dumps or missile expansions you left behind.)

I bring this up because I think it helps to explain how I like my particular Metroidvania mixes and how "Shantae: Risky's Revenge" falls into this spread. See, I wouldn't classify myself as a fast gamer. I'll do weird things, and if I want to prove something, I do them as hard as I can. But, generally, I want to experience as much as I can in one go-around. I want my marks to be high in figuring out how to worm into certain locations or call a game director's bullshit. (Looking at you, Igarashi.) I'm not the kind to grind something over and over again until the speed and efficiency of my gameplay makes someone's pants fly off. I mean, I love watching other people do that, but man. I'm just not wired up to be wired. Plus, I've got hundreds of other games that I want to play in my lifetime, so I want to make what may be my only time with a game count.

So, where's "Shantae: Risky's Revenge"?

Fight-wise, this is pretty "Castlevania." Like, I wouldn't classify Shantae as being as robust as a Belmont, but the melee-ranged whipping and magic spells on a limited meter make it pretty clear that she'd fall on the "Castlevania" side of things. Good for me! Mostly. I mean, she doesn't seem to have that movement trick that Alucard et. al have where you can spam attacks at twice the speed intended by hop-slashing, but she's functional.

Girl absolutely needs that hair conditioner, though. Definitely an item worth saving up for!

Goal-wise? The game's making a cake sandwich, and it's really trying its damnedest to eat it. You can receive achievements for just finishing the game, as well as finishing it with all items, finishing it under four hours, and then finishing it both under four hours and with all items. The ending itself doesn't seem to change all that much, which is a bummer, as it ends where most "Metroid" games begin. Frankly, all you get out of it is a different picture after the credits. But, if that's something you want to tackle, boy howdy. You do you.

In terms of difficulty, the game is…honestly, very strange. Like, I was almost tempted to say that this is a good Metroidvania game for beginners, but then I hit the Battle Tower. Holy crap. One of my Tumblr mutuals mentioned that the Battle Tower is where they bailed on the game, and I can't blame them. It's a timed ascent up 10 flights of stairs filled with monster battles and a whopping 2 minutes on the clock. Like, you do get time extenders in pots between fights, but yikes. That's not something you want to deal with when you're playing late at night to recover from your mind-numbing, soul-sucking existence.

Even that tower's difficulty might not be its own fault. I think the UI for the game's shop is not clear or helpful. There's two different currencies the game uses for items (gems and jams), and the latter is not initially defined with great clarity. Like, when you look at this, what do you think this item costs?

It's supposed to be 1 jam, 150 gems. But, I read that as 150 jams. Like, you get maybe a fifth of that in game max. But, when you're trying to be an independent gamer and not reading guides, that measurement can be very confusing. It should really be 1🫙150 💎, if you're going to involve icons in the mix.

Do your chemistry teacher a favor, alright? Keep your units straight.  

Outside of my computation issues with the shop, I found some of the later levels' platforming to be daunting. Like, I don't know how to say this without sounding weird, but I like Metroidvania games because they generally are more forgiving about platforming than a standard game. You fell? Oh, well. Just don't land in the acid or lava or spikes, and you can try again. Maybe chug some health potions. Here? It's a bit more on "Zelda" rules, so failure isn't the worst it could possibly be. It's just with as many fiddly, narrow platforms as the game throws at you, damage can add up really quickly.

Also, those Monkey Bullet puzzles are exercises in frustration. Slippery friction + precise square navigation = screaming monkey time.

One last weird note I made was on the game's achievement system. I'm fairly certain I got two achievements that I did not meet the criteria for receiving ("Tinkercide" and "Speed Run the Baron's Lair!") Which, hell. I guess if something is given in the favor of the player, why should I bitch? It just seems weirdly implemented.

Screw those two achievements regarding withholding a puppy from an NPC and hurting it, though. Surely, the game can find something better for me to do. Like, collect cats. Another mermaid shooting gallery. Hell, we're halfway to an "Ecco" game. Give me some hoops to jump through!  

It is lucky for the game that it is pretty damn unique and cute, at least in terms of style. Like, the character portraits are mid 2000s Flash animation quality, so eh there, but the sprites themselves are quite lovely. Everything is brightly colored and has a pleasant bounce to its movement. Looking at older "Shantae" footage, it seems like a lot of the animation style was preserved from the GBC game, which I imagine is a lovely touch for fans of the original game.

Sequin Land is a pretty cool setting as well. Like, my issues with this game aside, I can see why the "Shantae" games have become a solid franchise over the past decade. It's got a playful charm to it, something akin to what I grew up with in the 90s in terms of Arabian fantasy. The inclusion of the undead as a staple is a bit strange, but it's played with very well. It's the kind of game that makes you wonder if the link between zombification, civility, and coffee has something to do with adenosine receptors. I mean, I'm not a neurologist, but a part of me wants to take that joke about making coffee for zombies a little too far. It's a weird kind of inspiration, but you've gotta take it where you can get it!

Additionally, the transformation gimmick is simpler to set up than in the previous game. All it is here is holding a button down to cycle through animations until you get the one you need. I'm a simple woman. Give me a game where you can turn into a mermaid, and I'll find my own joy in it. I can bitch about the fiddliness of that monkey all day, but the mermaid? Yeah. Fine by me. (The elephant's okay too, I guess. At least it's good about keeping the undead dead!) 

I'm glad that the "Shantae" series made it past this game. Between the structural issues for "Risky's Revenge" and a bummer of an ending (regardless of your skill, mind you!), it would be a shame if this was the end of the run for Shantae. There are cool portions to it, but man, I can't really recommend it. The writing goes from juvenile to depressing, and the difficulty oscillates quite a bit, so I don't know who the audience for this would be other than previously existing "Shantae" fans. Theoretically, this could have been a great Metroidvania starter for preteens. But, man. I can't see many having the gumption to tough out shooting monkey puzzles and surprise speed-run segments.

Like, don't get me wrong. I've got "Shantae and the Pirate's Curse" downloaded and ready to go for later on. (Risky's not the only vindictive bitch here.) I just don't know if I'd be right up to bat for this particular title. I mean, if you get it as a gift or for under five USD, okay. File it under the "gift horse" idiom. But, I wouldn't go over $8.00 at the very least. I don't want to be one of those pricks that have a dedicated price point for each hour of a game, but I think a dollar an hour here is a fair estimate of overall value. And I got my first (and possibly only) run done in under 8 hours, so there you go. Value calculated.

Which isn't what this game's store owner did! BOOM! LAST MINUTE DRAG ON THE STUPID STORE USER INTERFACE!

Okay, I'm done. 

[exdbonanote]

December 2024 Portrait Challenge #GettingBetteratHead

I am so proud of myself. I have never been able to complete a daily drawing challenge, much less a challenge, before this one. As you can see this is a compilation of posts over the month of December 2024 of me wanting to get better at drawing heads, duh. I primarily utilized the procreate app to do this challenge, this way I can get accustomed to using digital tools as it is my dream to be confident to take commissions, and nothing is easier than sending a file format. Now let me go through the journey of this challenge.

One day as I waffling about, going crazy about discovering reading and that I can in fact read, I thought maybe I could even draw. I mean if I can put my head and read hundreds of pages of a book, why can’t I just draw everyday? So, I made December the month where I would challenge myself to draw everyday. I had bought myself some brush packs, and it made navigating Procreate that much easier.

Often when I stop drawing for any length of time, I feel like everything I learned about seeing like an artist flies out the window, so it was difficult cranking out the first two portraits. I felt like I had gotten over this overly simplistic struggling to capture portraiture. I also didn’t factor that I would be experimenting with a new medium that was digital art. Which felt completely different to traditional. Day 3, I felt like I got something going, like something clicked.

Day 5 I had to go back to traditional, I drew this one specifically in my vent sketchbook. The pressure of this challenge was beginning to way on my head. Now to be fair to myself, when I decided to drawing challenges before, I did not know how to tackle challenges and I wasn’t in a headspace where I could do a daily challenge. If I missed a day I felt like it would snowball where I miss multiple days and have to make up for it before the end of the challenge, where I end up giving up. I don’t have these challenges posted here, I don’t know if I straight up deleted them everywhere. I do have a habit of tossing out old artwork.

Day 7 was the day I feared the most. I was in excruciating pain where I couldn’t complete a drawing. I wanted to draw Kite in a cute pose, but I felt like if I moved my arm anymore I would need my arm amputated (I am exaggerating here). For clarification, I am a barista and that means using my arms a lot, especially my dominant. I also am lazy. I have bad posture, and I don’t stretch. That’s how I got there. I managed to get through the pain the next day though with some pain killers and rest.

For a few days I went back in my vent sketchbook and drew two heads and I believe something clicked. I think it was beginning to click that I could draw. For myself, I believe I peaked at Day 14. That day is my favorite portrait to this day and I still don’t know how I captured it, how my brain processed the reference and translated it. At this point, somewhere inside of me knew that I would complete this challenge and be much better for it. I also noticed that the time it took to complete a portrait would drastically get faster over time. Before it would take me over an hour to complete a portrait, now it can be somewhere around 45 minutes! And I was still challenging myself to capture shadow and light in my references. Before I knew it, drawing everyday became natural to me. Where here I am, the end of December, the last day of the year.

What I learned from this challenge is that I can draw and I have the mental fortitude now to draw almost everyday. If I miss a day, big whoop, I can just double it when I actually get to drawing.

For anyone wanting to try to attempt this challenge for one make it sound fun. Saying “Drawing a Portrait a Day” doesn’t scream fun, it screams of homework. Two, don’t get hung up in the art you made, whether it is good or bad. If there was a day you made something spectacular but the next few days you cannot recreate it, don’t feel bad, it’s hard to capture lightning twice. And if you feel like you aren’t making any progress, take that as a cue to look up some inspiration, some art resources, sometimes it is best to learn from artists who inspire you or someone who knows how to break down whatever you are drawing. Three, the most important thing, you just gotta feel safe. Drawing everyday can be emotionally taxing, you are taking time out of your day to draw, time that could be used for whatever you start thinking of. Drawing can leave yourself pretty vulnerable to a lot of mental stress and there are many ideas that will pop into your head that will tell you pursuing this challenge is useless. That was why I stopped all the challenges before this one. However, what changed was simply living in a mentally safe environment, one that never made me think that what I was doing was a waste of time. Of course, this is a privilege I recognize that. But consider what you can do to make drawing everyday feel safe.

Now for the future. I plan to continue this type of challenge. It has inspired me to draw more and experiment. Next year, my goal is to be able to draw the human body, but I will take it in increments every month. I hope to continue this momentum in January and I hope you will join me.

[thesemiprofessionalkonditor]

Another shit weekend another late post. But whatever.

Today we make a favourite of mine...

Cake in a jar!

Good to take in the go/transport and easily portioned. As well as easily modified.

My go to is lemon-mousse but you can easily use any kind of mousse or flavored whipped cream.

For lemon-mousse you will need:

Any kind of cake layers(sponge cake is easiest)

Whipped cream

Grated Chocolate(optional but gives a great contrasting taste)

Lemon curd

For the lemon curd you will need:

250ml lemon juice

250g sugar

4 eggs

5 egg yolks

120g cold butter

Seperate your 5 yolks and add everyting except the butter into a medium sized sauce pan. Crank the heat to medium to high heat and stir constantly, preferably with a whisk until the mixture starts to thicken. Lower the heat and continue stirring. Stop occasionaly and check for big bubbles. The go: blubb blubb... Plop! Caution: they might splatter. Once you see the bubbles, kill the heat and add your cold butter. Keep stirring until it is all combined and put aside to cool for a bit. Half an hour or so should be enough to be able to use it for the mousse. Stir occasionally to stop any skin from forming and to make sure it cools evenly.

In the meantime prep your cake layers. Make sure they are not too thick, maybe half a centimeter or... 0.19 inches... But centimeters are easier to measure😅. If you don't have a ruler... About half your thumb thickness. Take your jar and just use it as a kind of cookie cutter amd cut out as many layers as you need. Alternatively use a cookie cutter the same diameter of your jar. You will have cleaner edges but that is the only difference.

Whip up your cream with a bit of sugar and if you have it a bit of vanilla. Once your lemon curd is cool enough take a whisk and add one tablespoon of the curd at a time. Five tablespoons will probably be enough for about 200ml of whipped cream.

(You will have a ton of curd left. But don't worry. It will keep in the fridge for at least a week but I usually use/eat it all befor it can go bad.)

Now. Your whipped cream WILL have turned a bit runny. That is OK! After all, everything will be contained in a jar. If you want to use it normally (not in a jar cake) you can use gelatin or agar agar to make it keep its shape or you can fold some melted white chocolade into it. The chocolate will solidify once you put it in the fridge to set an keep everything in its place.

It is time to assemble!

Now this is up to your preference. You can start woth a layer of mousse and then the cake or the cake first and then the mousse. But I like to put a layer of cake in, then a layer of mousse and, for a little extra a dollop the curd. Then another layer of cake and repeat until the jar is full. If you opted for the grated chocolate, you can add that at any point after whipping up the cream. I like to layer it in wherever but always add some on top. Done.

Put your jars in the fridge until you are ready to eat/go. They will keep for about 2-3 days in the fridge but after that you should be careful. Because of the lemon you will probably not notice if the cream went bad so make sure to test befor hand. If you are unsure toss it. But keep the jar😅 they are quite useful.

Here another picture with a chocolate sponge instead of vanilla and in smaller jars.

Hope you try it for yourself. I made the ones from the first picture today and all in all that took me about one and a half hours. I did use storebought sponge cake. There is absolutely no shame in that.

And with that Tüdelü and till next Saturday(hopefully😅😇).

[kusuguricafe]

Top 22 of 2022

end of the year tag game by @otomiya-tickles!!

part 1: fandom faves

1. favorite new fandoms of the year: I got into bnha this year and, fair warning, it became quite the obsession so a lot of my answers are related to this 😅

2. favorite new ships since this year: bakudeku 🧡💚 they are everything to me

3. favorite anime/tv show of the year: bnha

4. favorite movie of the year: it didn't come out this year, but I watched heroes rising for the first time this year and it was really something

5. favorite character of the year: ohh, tbh I can't choose between bakugou, deku, kaminari, or wanderer (aka scara redemption arc)

6. favorite soundtrack of the year: the sumeru battle themes absolutely slap, so I suppose it would have to be the genshin impact - forest of jnana and vidya ost

7. favorite book/manga/comic of the year: I started sasaki and miyano and I'm enjoying it so far!

8. favorite game of the year: this is a really tough one, it's gotta be either genshin, splatoon 3, or everyone's FAVORITE video game, my hero one's justice 2 (my partner and I have been playing it together, uh, a normal amount)

9. highlight of this year to remember: the "laugh! as if you are in hell" ova changed my life 💕 I remember watching the hype build up in the community, and when it was finally released, we all went bonkers reblogging the same few laughter clips again and again xD (honorable mentions: scara banner and bakudeku cranking 90s)

part 2: community review

10. favorite tumblr moments of 2022: well, I started my blog this year, and the amount of support I've gotten from all of you in just one year is absolutely mind-blowing to me!

I do have to shoutout the art and fic I commissioned this year by @ticklishfanart and @intheticklecloset. I'd never commissioned anything before and boy howdy, I couldn't be happier with how they turned out 🥹💖

kagehina fanart by @ticklishfanart renga fanart by @ticklishfanart kamibakudeku fic by @intheticklecloset

and I can't forget my fic requests either!!

bakudeku request by @my-tickle-blog spicy bakudeku drabble request by @otomiya-tickles bakudeku christmas drabble by @otomiya-tickles and of course, my squealing santa gift by @something1987

11. favorite fan art of the year: besides the ones mentioned above, definitely this bnha tickle fight comic series, this kiribaku, and this deku and all might by @simplysmilingdrew!!

12. favorite fic of the year: besides the ones I mentioned in question 10, it would have to be this bakudeku fic by @intheticklecloset and this bakudeku fic by @ticklishscumbag

13. favorite ask game of the year: I never actually received any, but I loved hearing others' answers to this voice ask meme! especially @ticklishfanart struggling to say her own blog name xD

14. my top achievements as a writer/artist/creator/blogger: starting my blog, reaching 5,000+ hits on one of my bakudeku fics on ao3 (how????), and reaching 100+ followers here on tumblr!! thank you guys 💕

15. my own best fic/post of the year: I really like how my tickletober teasing bakudeku fic turned out ^^

16. my most underappreciated fic/post of the year: hmm, maybe this genshin windtrace fic?

17. a post of mine that got more popularity than expected: the same teasing bakudeku fic I mentioned in question 15!!

18. something I changed on my blog since this year: it coming into being *cue albedo voice*

part 3: next year

19. something I didn't post this year but would like to do next year: I don't know if any of you guys remember, but I was planning on doing a valentine's day event this year that I never got around to finishing because I took on wayy more than I could manage in the small timeframe I gave myself. so, I am hoping on actually completing it and posting it by valentine's day 2023!

20. goals for next year: I don't have any specific goals, but I definitely want to continue writing more fics ^^ and flesh out my hybrid bakudeku au

21. 2023 releases I look forward to the most: I'm not sure when it's supposed to be released, but I am sooo excited for sk8 season 2!!!

part 4: spreading love

22. shoutouts to people who made my 2022 a better year:

@otomiya-tickles for this tag game, making me feel welcomed and appreciated, and for all the stellar content you provide 🙌 thank you queen, I don't know what this community would do without you

@intheticklecloset for their amazing writing and kindness they've shown me 💙

@ffeather-ficss, @ticklishscumbag, @veryblushyswitch, @happyandticklish, @volleeball-bo, @my-tickle-blog, @something1987, @impulsively-made-tickle-blog, @justmaybee, and @burningablaze for their amazing writing as well!!

@ticklishfanart, @skribblz, @chibimochii, @simplysmilingdrew, @vqler, @sleepysheepytea, and @dokidoki-muffin, for their incredible artwork

@wertzunge for their wonderful writing and premium anime tickle clips (idk how you manage to find and collect all of those, it's truly a feat to behold)

@lovelymessybubbly for her lovely art, positivity, and kind heart! 🥚💛

to everyone who has ever liked, reblogged, and especially left a comment on any of my posts or fics 💓 (to the people who keysmash and leave little comments in the tags, I see you, and you are very appreciated)

if you took the time to read this far, thank you so much 💖 I am so glad I finally gained the courage to make a blog this year. it's been so nice to be able to interact with the community, without only sending asks on anon. I am so grateful to everyone who has made me feel welcomed. here's to another year full of art, joy, and laughter! 🎉

[watermelonlipstick]

Three, Two, One

Working through my list of requests, I was really grateful to be able to fulfill this one from anon, who asked: 

I have ptsd, and really loud, sudden noises and sudden touches can make me have a panic attack, so can you do something where there’s a really loud noise or someone touches the reader and sends her into a panic attack and Dean helps her?

It felt a little too obvious to go with a gunshot here. I’m also imagining this set in early seasons both for aesthetic and for Bobby’s house. Hopefully it’s something like what you were hoping for!

Title: Three, Two, One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Word Count: 1069

Summary: Dean grounds the reader after a panic attack brought on by a loud noise. 

Warnings: oblique description of panic attack, description of loud noise

           The way he was right in front of you at virtually the same second the car backfired almost made it worse at first, to be honest, filling your field of vision as he’d flown out of the front seat of the car where it sat in Bobby’s salvage yard.

           “Shit, I’m so sorry, I thought I’d fixed it—here, sit down,” he said, guiding you over to a folding chair on the edge of the garage. You let him ease you to the metal, feeling the heat and pounding starting to build in your head already. Dean crouched in front of you. “Water? Let me get you some water.”

           He was back in a flash with a plastic bottle, sweating so much in the humidity that the paper label on it hung loose and ugly. You took it from him with a shaky hand once he’d cracked the cap off, and took a quick sip more to feel the coldness in your mouth than out of any real thirst. Dean reached out to pat your thigh and pulled back at the last second like he’d been burned, remembering that sometimes touching you made it worse. “Can I—um?”

           You nodded, grateful for his asking and worried if you spoke you wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. His palm over your knee was just this side of too hot, beach sand baked in the summer sun, and you tried hard to bring yourself back to reality, focus on that point of heat seeping through your jeans.

           “1 to 10?” he asked, gentle but firm as he fell into his script.

           “7,” you answered honestly.

           Dean nodded, just once, almost to himself, flicker of a quirk at one side of his mouth gone so fast you might’ve missed it. If you weren’t clawing to keep yourself above water you might’ve been able to appreciate his pride in heading off the worst of it by his rapid action.

           “I’m right here, you can close your eyes. Not going anywhere,” he continued in that poundcake voice; soft, sturdy, and sweet. Through trial and error you’d found that skipping to the three—three things you could hear—of a 5-4-3-2-1 grounding strategy was better for you; less risk of a surprise touch to add to the panic at its worst and increased contrast from whatever loud noise that had triggered it slowing the reins of your mind faster, letting you grab ahold and take control again. If you closed your eyes you could focus even harder on those small sounds, but so often it was impossible to beat back the anxiety enough to let you do it—this was one of the things Dean had been working on with you, ability to give the burden of watching out to him when you were buried in the tunneling foxhole of your mind. You tried your best to take a deep breath and let your eyelids slide shut.

           Three things you could hear.

           “Deep Purple.” Either the battery on the car was still good or he had that old boombox somewhere in the garage.

           “Underrated as always. That’s good; another?” he encouraged.

           “Windchime on the back porch.” Just a light twinkling; just barely below breeze to make the weather perfect.

           “Damn, you can hear that? I need to stop cranking the stereo so loud. Just one more.” Even knowing he was intentionally putting in the casual commentary, it helped to latch onto the light, easy conversation.

           “Cicadas.”

           “Annoying as hell, right? Okay, now two.”

           Two things you could smell.

           “Motor oil, you.”

           You could hear the smile in his voice even with your eyes closed. “And what do I smell like?”

           “Sweat, Old Spice, Coors Light.” And that little underlying note you could never place; the closest you’d ever gotten being a kind of sweet leather—leaving a cupcake in a hot car, maybe—but you were already at five things, technically. Feeling a touch of the panic start to lift, you were able to give him a weak facsimile of your normal cheeky smile, keeping your eyes closed as he chuckled gently.

           “Yeah, you love it,” he teased. “One?”

           One thing you could taste.

           “I don’t know, chapstick, maybe?”

           “I’ll call an audible and say you can swap for something you can feel,” he offered when you couldn’t think of anything.

           “Your hand on my knee.”

           He waited a beat for you to try to regulate your breathing before saying anything else. “1 to 10?”

           “3.” You opened your eyes to see him where you knew he’d still be, unmoved from his crouch on the weedy gravel in front of you. He still looked a touch concerned but primarily his face was open and hopeful as he searched your expression for more clues on how you were doing. “I’m good, sorry,” you sighed on the tail end of another deep breath, relishing the relative loosening of your lungs from a few minutes before.

           A smirk spread across Dean’s face, whites of his teeth impossible contrast to the light tan he’d gotten in the last couple weeks and spray of new sun-dyed freckles across his face, especially with the smudges of grease he had from working all day. “Nothing to be sorry about, kid. Should’ve double checked before I had you come check it out, that’s on me.” There was a shade of guilt there, and you wrapped your fingers around his hand where it stayed on your knee, giving him a little squeeze.

           Clearly that wasn’t enough to assuage Dean’s guilt, but what ever was? He held your gaze for a second before easing up to standing, grabbing a wrench out of his back pocket and tossing it in the general direction of a toolbox before wiping his hands sloppily on the back pockets of his jeans and rubbing the close-cut hair at the back of his neck. “Can I make you a sandwich? I’m starved.”

           It was another apology and fighting Dean about it wouldn’t help; the sandwich a continuation of the rapid response to your panic attack in that it was a manifestation of the best way Dean knew how to show affection/gratitude/apology, that wrap-you-in-a-blanket, take-you-under-my-wing care always so much easier for him than putting into words what he meant.

           You let him have it. “Yeah, a sandwich sounds good.”

           The way he smiled in response as he held out a hand to pull you up and sling an arm around your shoulders would’ve been enough to make you eat 20 sandwiches.

           One thing you could taste.  

-

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[shyficwriter]

Who's Tougher?

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Guardians find out that Reader maybe isn't Terran while playing with one of those labor pain/period cramp simulators. Inspired by that one episode of Lucifer where Lucifer got tased.

Author’s Note: Based off this dumb post I wrote earlier, because sometimes my dumber ideas are the funniest.

Part 2 here.

Word Count: 2,376 It had started with a bet.

Who was tougher? You or Peter?

Tired of hearing your bickering one day, and after having come across a video on the internet where a couple of guys were using a period cramp simulator, Rocket decided to whip one up with some spare parts he had lying around. Took him about 10 minutes, 15 if you count the time it took him to sort through his spare parts drawer.

You and Peter where sitting at the table with Kraglin when Rocket hopped up and slapped it on the table, interrupting your bickering.

"What's that?" Peter asked, his face one of confusion.

It looked almost like Peter's Zune, only bigger and instead of headphones it had four long wires coming out of it that were attached to thin disk-shaped objects.

"This is gonna settle your argument on who's tougher once and for all so I don't gotta hear your constant whining anymore." Rocket said.

"Hey! It's not constant!" you say, a bit offended, but also not looking forward to doing whatever Rocket was suggesting. "What is that even supposed to do?"

"Saw a video online where a couple of Terran-types were using electric pulses to simulate period cramps. It does that, more or less."

"More or less??" You cry uncertainly, "You want to electrocute us? Because that's what I'm hearing."

Peter laughs, "If you're scared you can just admit that I'm tougher." He leans back in his chair with a smug look that makes you want to smack him.

You glare at him. "I'm not scared. I'm just being cautious of accepting offers to let Rocket stick electrodes on us!"

Kraglin snickers from his side of the table. "Sound scared to me. If Yondu could trust him to wire his fin into his skull, I'm sure ya can trust him not to fry ya with that little thingy-ma-bob."

Yondu, having heard his name while walking by, stops by the table. "What's going on here?"

"Rocket wants to electrocute us!"

"Do not!" Rocket defends. "Well, not much... I just want to settle which one of them is really tougher so they'll quit whining about it."

Yondu shakes his head, chuckling. He looks at you. "So you're really gonna give in and tell Peter he's tougher cuz yer scared of a little shock?"

You glare at him. You knew he was only trying to razz you up, but you couldn't help it. "I'm not scared, I-"

Peter cuts you off. "Then prove it." He was bluffing, he didn't really want to try either. Who in their right mind would willingly let Rocket hook them up to an electric shock machine?? But his poker-face was good. Too good.

"Ugh. Fine. If to only wipe that smug grin off your dumb face." you say, rolling your eyes. "How's it work?"

Rocket grinned, as did the other two. "Ok, so you each get two of these electrodes," He held up the white disk, "and you stick them to your stomach, and then I'll take this," he held up the Zune-looking thing, "and turn it up until one of you taps out."

You begrudgingly took the electrodes from Rocket and he clarified his instructions by telling you both to place them below your belly-button. You retake your seats at Rocket's behest, him cockily saying that you 'might want to sit down for this'.

"Ready?" he smirked.

You looked at Peter's cocky grin and rolled your eyes. "Sure."

Rocket turned the dial. Nothing happened, so you assumed it had only just switched the device on, but you did see Peter give a little jolt.

You turned your head to him and laughed. "What you jumpy for, Mister Cocky? He hasn't started yet."

"Yes I did."

You looked back at Rocket, confused. "What?"

"I did start it. It's on level 1 now."

You look at Peter. He confirms it's on. "You don't feel anything?" he asks. You shake your head.

Rocket give you an odd look and says he's turning it up to 2.

Peter jerks again, softly grunting. "Hey, how high does this go?"

Rocket answers that it goes up to 10, and Peter makes a face that makes it obvious he's regretting his life choices.

"Oh, I can feel it now," you say, your mouth twitching upward in a grin. "It kinda tickles."

"That doesn't seem right?" Rocket switches it off. "Switch your leads, I want to make sure there's not a short in the wires."

You and Peter do what's asked. As soon as Rocket sees all the leads are stuck down properly he cranks it up to 2 without warning.

Peter jerks forward and grabs the table with a grunt. "Dude! What the fuck! A warning would be nice!"

You, however, only start softly giggling with a, "Hey!"

Rocket scratches his head, and turns the knob to 2.5.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and tries, but fails, to sit back up straight. You also close your eyes, but it's because you've brought a hand to press on your forehead as you lean back in your chair, still giggling.

As soon as Rocket turns the knob to 3, Peter taps out.

Rocket turns the device off and looks at you suspiciously before glancing at Yondu and Kraglin who only shrug in response. "I don't get it? That's not supposed to happen?" Rocket says looking his new device over.

"I'll have a go." says Kraglin. "I bet Pete's just being a baby."

This earns a chuckle from Yondu and an annoyed outburst from Peter, who challenges Yondu to do it with Kraglin if they're both so tough.

Smirking, Yondu actually agrees. You and Peter hand over your leads and Yondu and Kraglin put them on.

Rocket repeats the same process. He starts them out at 1, and neither react. He goes up to 2, and Kraglin winces like Peter had. Up to 3, and Kraglin grunts and starts to grip the table while Yondu only acknowledges he can feel it pinching, but from the look on his face you can tell he's just putting on a tough act.

Rocket turns it up to 4 and Yondu exhales out his nose while looking up at the ceiling. At 6 Kraglin taps out and Rocket turns the device off.

Yondu laughs and tells Peter, "Guess everyone here is tougher than you, boy." to which Peter calls bullshit, says he wasn't ready, and demands to go again, this time against Yondu.

Peter doesn't make it past 4, and you laugh at him, prompting him to glare at you and say, "You wouldn't make it past 4 either!"

You call his bet, laughing, "Guess I'd need to go up against Yondu or Krags then, because we know you sure can't."

Before Peter can retort the rest of the team has come over to see what the fuss is about.

Rocket explains that you're seeing who's the toughest, and this promptly makes Mantis and Groot, in their innocence, want to try. However, this is immediately shot down by Gamora, who says that any game, or whatever it was that you were doing, where you willfully electrocute yourself, was stupid.

Drax, however, says he'll have a go, and Peter jumps on this, telling you, "There you go! Go up against Drax. If you can outlast him I'll finally say you're tougher than me."

"Quill." Yondu says in a warning tone, the implication clear that he didn't think anyone could beat the behemoth and that he knew that Peter egging you on like that would only result in you pushing yourself too hard to prove him wrong and getting hurt.

"Relax, old man!" Peter turned to you with a smug grin. "You can take it, right?" Peter is really pushing his luck, but you agree, taking back your leads from Yondu, and Rocket instructing Drax what to do as he takes Peter's chair.

Once you were both settled Rocket made sure you were ready before turning the device up to 1, then after a moment 2, and after another moment 3, where you had left off before.

Drax was just sitting there unfazed, but you were giggling again like before, prompting Drax to ask you what was so funny.

"It tickles!" you say, covering your face again and giggling harder once Rocket announced he was turning it up to 4.

"I bet you're faking it just to mess with us." Peter grumbled at you as Gamora gave him a strange look.

They heard Mantis giggling and looked over to see Mantis pulling her hand away from your arm, her antennae glowing. "Nope. Not lying. I don't sense any feelings of deception."

"Well, that doesn't make any sense, but here's 5." Rocket said, turning the dial.

You jerked in your seat, drawing one foot up into your chair as you tilted your head back laughing, still covering your face with your hands. "Ok! Ok! Wait a minute!" you squeak.

"Are you saying you give up?" Peter said with a smirk. "Guess that means you can't say you're tougher than me."

You flip him off. "No! I didn't say that!" This makes Yondu chuckle. Like most of the rest of the team he had started grinning at your reactions. You may be being stubborn, but he supposed you being tickled was better than you being in pain, though by all accounts it didn't make sense. He had done it himself, and it most definitely didn't tickle.

"Well it's up to 5, you couldn't get past 4, Pete." Kraglin corrected, letting Peter know that you technically had just proved you were tougher by being able to go to a higher setting than him.

"That's not the deal we made. Besides, how can it count if it only tickles? The higher settings are bound to hurt." He knew his logic was flawed, but he was stubborn too, he wasn't just going to hand you a victory.

Seeing as you weren't giving up yet, Rocket went ahead and dialed it up to 6.

"How you doing Drax?" Kraglin asked.

Drax just shrugged. "Fine. It's not the most pleasant feeling, but it's completely bearable."

They didn't ask how you were doing. It was pretty clear how you were doing. You hadn't quit giggling this whole time, much to Rocket's frustration because it just didn't make sense. It was, however, the only thing keeping Gamora from making Rocket stop. She knew Drax could take almost anything, so he'd be fine. You didn't seem to be in pain at all, so she assumed you must be safe.

Rocket dialed up to 7.

Drax nodded his head. "There it is. I can feel it more now." However, there wasn't an ounce of pain etched into his face. Dude obviously had one hell of a pain tolerance.

You were still curled in your chair. One hand covered your mouth while you giggled, the other rested on your knee. You tried to psyche yourself up. It was only a tickle. You weren't a baby. You got this, right?

The foot that had been in your chair then slammed to the floor as you lurched forward with a shriek of laughter, gripping the metal armrest of your chair as your other hand wrapped around your middle.

"How can that still tickle!? It's turned up to 8!" Rocket questioned in disbelief, holding up the device to Yondu as if to prove it.

"Eight!?" you cry, "You were supposed to tell us, you rabid raccoon!"

Drax began to laugh as well and in disbelief Peter said, "Drax? Seriously?!"

"It doesn't tickle," Drax clarified, his laughter dying into a light chuckle. "It's just very funny to watch the smaller Terran react."

You attempted to glare at Drax for referring to you as the "smaller Terran," but failed at it. You stomped your foot on the ground as you felt the tickle get somehow worse, and knew Rocket had turned it up again. "Rocket! Please!" you whined, making a few of the others laugh. Maybe you don't got this.

"That one was for calling me a raccoon, asshat." Rocket said with a grin, his previous frustration seemingly gone in favor of mischief.

You quickly reach for the little shit, but you recoil as he jumped out of reach, a smug grin on his face as he turned the dial to the last setting.

"And that one was 'cause I can."

Drax barely reacted, but you were suffering.

Shit. Shit. Nothing had ever tickled like this before. You don't got this. You still had a death grip on the arm of the chair and you were laughing so hard you couldn't sit up straight. Screw the bet, time for begging. "Ok! Ok!" you squeal. "Rock-Rocket! Ahaha! Ok! I'm sorry! Please! I can't- I give up!"

Rocket and Peter laughed triumphantly as you continued to plead for mercy. Yondu had pity on you and chuckled saying, "Alright, Rat. That's enou-"

He was cut off by a metallic squeal and a snap that made everyone jump. The sound was only followed by the sounds of your dying laughter as you caught your breath.

You threw your leads up on the table, having had ripped them off when you couldn't take it anymore (and after having finally realized that was an option.) You finally look up at Rocket, still giggly and gasping for breath as you say, "Youhoo suck! Eheheh... you- you little brat... haha... Jeez..." Your eyes were glowing a bright blue that slowly faded as you raised an eyebrow, noting how your companions expressions have changed to something resembling "WTF??"

"What's with the faces?" you ask, only to follow Mantis's eyes down to the arm of your chair, or rather, what used to be the arm of your chair.

You had snapped it, but that wasn't all. It was now twisted both outward & downward and the place you had been gripping it had been crushed to form to the inside of your fist as if it had been made of foam board.

You hear someone hesitantly say, "Ya ain't Terran... are ya?"

You look back up at your friends' expectant faces with a nervous grin, squinting and blushing as you rub the back of your head. "Well, aha... This is awkward..."

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Quarters. | 9

☼1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 

prompt: “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” — soul-gazing

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings/au: please keep warnings in mind—dysfunctional relationship with a capital D, toxic relationship themes, but they’re attempting to get better, probably inaccurate therapy but i tried, m-ish, humor(i try), mentions of drug usage, cheater cheater pumpkin eater?, fluff, angst, boxer!au, iceskater!au. 

authors note: Hello!!💖it’s been a while since the last update but here we are. ✨This chapter is pretty long✨. Unlike some of the other parts, it is following the timeline of the previous part(pt. 8) so just keep that in mind. See m.list for other parts. Enjoy!🥰

“Do it again, you need to stop relying on your right leg so much!”

Your coach yells for the third time in the last hour, she’s being a tyrant today. Your poor ankles are about to break off, your legs are straining and the cold air is starting to feel like vengeful needles. It’s been about two months since the incident with your leg and the doctor at your last check up granted you freedom to skate again. You’re glad it did to because you were about to go crazy. After the scandal came out about you and your ex-coach judge, she asked you if you wanted to get back into pairs. She went on about how Lucas was open to joining pairs again and that maybe you could get back with him—tempting offer. You’ve thought about it, though you still haven’t made a decision. It has been months since your injury, you can no longer use it as an excuse to take things easy. 

Determined to get it right, you skate back to your starting point and try it again. You skate forward, bending your knees just slightly to gain more momentum and once you turn, you take off into a triple salchow. Perfect.

”Finally,” You mutter, skating over to the edge of the rink where your coach is just getting off a phone call.

“Okay, Lucas will be here on Thursday to practice with you,” She smiles, tucking her phone in her pocket, “there’s a competition in two months and I think you two should sign up for it.”

“Coach, I haven’t decided if I want to get back into that,” You put on your blade guards and walk over to the lockers, “I just don’t know yet.”

“Think about it,” She leans against the lockers as you untie your skates and put them in your bag, “if you’re seriously pursuing this career, you have to be flexible. You’re not getting any younger. I hate it just as much as you do but you’ll get positive exposure with him and maybe even pick up a sponsor for the season.”

“Fine,” You zip up your duffel bag and slip your hoodie on, deciding to leave the yoga pants on, “but I need a break. I worked a night shift last night so I’m only standing because I took three espresso shots and I’m about to take another one, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, try to get some rest this weekend. You’ll be at the ballet studio for half of next week so you won’t be on the ice,” She says that, hoping it’ll give you some relief, “just don’t forget to soak your feet tonight.”

You gather your stuff and walk out of the center, waving at Carrie the desk clerk like a zombie. It’s only 8 o’clock but you’ve been here for two hours, you feel like you’re in a time loop. An eternal warp created to keep you totally spent. When you hop in your car, you crank it up and turn the heat on. Not long after, your eyelids begin to feel heavy so you drive over to the closest coffee shop. When you look down at your phone, you see a missed call from Jeon Jungkook. All prior emojis have been removed from his contact.

His call will stay missed, just like the other five. You’re not in the mood for his sob story. About two weeks ago, you decided that you two needed to take a break but he took it hard. You remember sitting on your couch with crossed arms and staring at him as he twisted and squirmed uncomfortably.

“What kind of break?”

Are there different kinds?

“The kind where we stop seeing each other all the time, I don’t know what kind that is, Jungkook. But I can’t deal with this right now, it’s causing me major stress and anxiety...”

“You can’t deal with me?” He sounds hurt.

“Not with you Jungkook, with your crap. I have a ice skating career to try to work out, a job, school, the last thing I need to worry about is whether you can control yourself,” You frown, “you were just at my house with my niece and next thing I know you’re out getting high and fooling around with other girls.”

“You’re still upset about the photo,” He concludes, “baby, I told you, it didn’t go anywhere with that girl, I pushed her off. I wasn’t completely sober but I know I didn’t let her-”

“That’s exactly my point, you were doing drugs. And for what? You don’t need it. I understand a little bit of smoking every now and then but I can’t handle when you do that other stuff. That night was a disaster. I got stabbed, how does that even happen? But of course, it would happen to me,” You massage the sides of your temples. “I’m just over it, I’m tired.”

“You want to give up on us? Just like that? I’ve apologized a thousand times, I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m sorry,” He twiddles his fingers and bites at his bottom lip, “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m not giving up,” You defend, “we need some space to work on our selves.”

“Why can’t we work on ourselves together?”

“We’ve been doing that and it doesn’t work.”

The conversation continued on until you two ended up arguing for a good hour before you lied, saying you had to go to class. He left and you haven’t heard from him since, not a a call, a text, a call, not even a like on any of your recent posts. He’s taking this well.

*

“Why did you do that!? She’s gonna think I called her,” Jungkook snatches the phone from Jimin, “fuck, are you trying to get me killed?”

“Come on,” Jimin roles his eyes with a grin, putting his boxing gloves back on, “you guys can’t stay away from each other, you expect me to believe you two aren’t talking-”

“I’m serious, we haven’t talked for weeks,” Jungkook locks his phone with a frown, tucking it in his gym bag, “she’s done with me.”

“Oh, aw man,” He is serious, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.” 

He had been by you and Jungkook for the entirety of the relationship, it always seemed like you preferred things to be spontaneous. Admittedly, he knew Jungkook would do something that pushed you over the edge one day but he didn’t think it would be so soon. 

“We didn’t break up,” Jungkook mumbles, tying his hair back with a head band, “we’re just taking a break, that’s what she told me at least.”

“Aw, that sucks,” Jimin has to contain his amusement, it’s not funny but the fact that Jungkook is giving you full control over the relationship is unusual to him.

“Every time I think about trying to talk to her, I just remember that face she makes and that tone she uses. That’s when I know she does not give a single fuck, it’s scary.” 

“Is there a reason she’s being so hard on you? Don’t get me wrong, you were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have been there but it’s been weeks.”

“Her past relationship was rough on her mentally and emotionally. When she was young she had some things happen to her that causes her to have a hard time trusting others.”

“If you knew that then why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t know, okay? Everyone's been beating me up about it but I just don’t have an answer for you. I said I was sorry,” Jungkook shakes his head, fists making brunt contact with the punching bag, “I just I miss her,”

“It’ll be alright, she’ll come around,” Jimin holds the bag, keeping it still for the lovesick boy, “just give it some time. Hey, I’m taking my niece to the ice-skating rink in town, you should come!”

Jungkook, dramatically collapses to the ground, laying back on the ground with his boxing gloves on his face. “Ice-skating, why would you suggest ice-skating!?” He whines. “That’s literally what she does, it’s just going to remind me of her...”

“Aw Kook, I know,” Jimin can’t help but giggle at Jungkook’s overreaction, “that’s okay, you’ll be fine, and besides,” He pulls him up from the ground and pushes his shaggy hair back, “you can’t stay away from each other forever..”

“What about this one?” You step out of the dressing room, turning from side-to-side to let her see, “I like the color.”

“That’s the one,” Harmony scrolls through her phone, eyes going between you and the screen, “perfect.”

“Harmony, you’re just saying that!” You whine, turning to look into the mirror again with a frown.

“Y/n, this is the 11th dress you’ve tried on, it looks great. I’m serious.”

“Okay, I’ll go with this one then,” You smile, going back in the dressing room to change back into your clothes. Yuna’s having a party for the charity she works with. All of the money donated goes to buying toys and clothes for kids in foster care and orphanages, you attend every year. 

“You know, I heard Jungkook might come with Taehyung,”

Ugh, you forgot that your groups of friends are also friends. Jeon Jungkook, you still consider him your boyfriend in some aspects, but you don’t want to face him right now. Maybe you’re dragging this out too far but honestly, you don’t care. You love him but right now, you’re doing too well to let him crawl himself back into your life. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t creeping on his social media every now and then, you do care enough to see how he’s doing on there. 

“Hm,” 

“That’s all you have to say?” She giggles.

“Yup.”

“Did you officially dump his ass yet?”

You step out of the dressing room, rolling your eyes harder than necessary.

“Look, what happened to you was terrible. You couldn’t skate because of him. You caught him with another girl and you still let him take you home,” She was still bitter about Jungkook taking you away the way he did, she still thinks she should have insisted more.

You clear your throat, “I rather not talk about it.” 

It’s been admittedly awkward every time one of your friends bring that night up. On one hand, you understand why they bash him so hard but on the other hand, it’s hard to hear. You two leave the mall and grab lunch to eat in the comfort of your car..

During this break, you’ve decided to try and take things slow, relax. Admittedly, it would be nice to have Jungkook around again, to run errands with, to cuddle with. It’s hard not to miss him, you knew it would be. 

“We should go to the pop-up ice-skating rink on campus today, it’s a family thing I think,” Harmony squeezes ketchup onto her fries with a thoughtful him, “it sounds fun.”

“It’s funny you say that, Lucas invited me to go ther. He was going to go with his family, I told him I probably wouldn’t be able to.” You sigh.

“Oh, that’s right! The prince is back in town,” Harmony always had a thing for Lucas, even in high school. When you two were partners years ago, she still had a crush on him, “then we definitely should go. Are you getting back into pairs with him?

“Yeah, we’ll do one season together next year.” You have to admit, you are excited to get back into the practice with one of your best friends. 

“I’ll definitely have to brush up on my ballet lessons and I was always a bit too shaky during lifts. Our instructions used to say if I don’t look comfortable during lifts on the stable ground, I can’t expect to look good while I’m being lifted and Lucas is still skating. I trust Lucas a lot more now so I think it’ll go well,”

“Jungkook will love that.”

You take a bite of your chicken sandwich with a heavy sigh, “He’ll live...”

“Uncle,” Yona sits with her little brother in the back seat while they wait for Jungkook to finish pumping the gas, “why does your friend look so grumpy? Doesn’t he want to go skating with us?”

Jimin glances back at Yona and smiles, thinking of how he should explain Jungkook’s situation. “He’s just upset, he’s fine.”

“What is he upset about?” Jimin hesitates for a moment but Jungkook signals that he’s running inside for something.

“Well,” He turns to face her, “can you keep a secret?” She eagerly nods. “Kookie is a little sad because he misses his girlfriend.”

“Oh, what happened to her?” Yona frowns, fearing what Jimin might say.

“Nothing happened to her, he’s okay, they just haven’t seen each other in a long time,” He rakes his brain, trying not to say too much about Jungkook’s love life, “but it’s okay, he’s alright. Just try to understand, he’s not trying to be a grump, he’s just a big teddy bear who pretends to be tough when he’s sad,” He grins, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh,” She nods adorably, pitying Jungkook, “I won’t,”

in the nick of time, Jungkook comes back with a receipt and mumbles something about the poor management in the convenience store. Jimin notices how Yona looks at him with sympathetic eyes but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too wrapped up in his phone to see that a 9-year-old is pitying his dysfunctional love-life.

It doesn’t take long before the four of them arrive at the skating rink and Jimin is helping, Juda, Yona’s sleepy 5-year-old brother out of the car. Yona takes the liberty of escorting her self out and walking over to Jungkook.

“Hi,” She looks up at him, not even a little intimidated by his towering stature over herself.

Jungkook looks around, as if she’s talking to someone else. “Hi,” He gives her a small wave, “it’s Yona, right?”

“Yes,” She nods, walking by his side, “uncle said your girlfriend skates, do you skate too?” 

Jungkook mentally cringes, bracing himself for whatever Jimin told this little girl about his personal life. “No, I’m a boxer, she’s the skater.”

“Ahh, ice skating is prettier than boxing, you should ice skate too,” She looks back at Jimin and Juda walking side by side, wondering if she should walk with them or stay with Jungkook. Just when she was about to further judge Jungkook’s life choices, Jimin and Juda catch up. Jimin leads the four of them to the skate rental booth where Jungkook avoids eye contact with the girls behind the counter. It’s hard enough to be in your environment, let alone be surrounded by couples and families skating to their hearts content. It’s not the same without you, it doesn’t feel like he should even be trying to enjoy himself after what he did to you.

Jimin and the kids get their skates on, but Jungkook tells them to go ahead without him. The more he sits here, the less he wants to be here.

*

“We decided to come and skate for a little bit, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take your invitation, I didn’t think I’d be able to come.” You and Harmony skate out onto the ice.

Lucas stands at the edge of the rink, smiling. “It’s okay, I’m here with my family so don’t sweat it, hey! You wanna practice a routine, for old time sake?”

“There are way too many people to be practicing a routine. Besides, I’m already sore from practice yesterday.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought you told me he skates with you sometimes,” He skates a circle around you, a toothy grin on his face, “I want to meet him.”

“He was busy,” You lie. You don’t know where Jungkook is or what he’s doing, “It’s just us.″

Somehow, he believes you and skates off with his family while you breathe.

“You lie,” Harmony shakes her head as if to say shame on you.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m not gonna burden him with my personal problems.”

You two go back and forth until she surrenders, claiming she’ll leave you a Jungkook’s relationship out of her mouth for the rest of the day. You highly doubt she can but you appreciate the effort. 

Nononononono—why is he here? And blonde. Your eyes widen, your palms get sweaty, just seeing him affects you. You’ve missed him. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the bench with his skates beside him, he looks sad. Who is he here with? 

”Y/n, Harmony, hey!” Jimin skates over to you with two little kids by his side, they’re so cute. “What’re you two doing here?”

”Jimin? Hi, fancy meeting you here, we decided to come last minute,” You’ve connect the dots now, “who are these two cuties?”

“I’m babysitting my niece and nephew,” He holds both of your hands and the both of them say a shy little greeting, “say hello guys,”

“Hi,” Yona waves at you two and you greet her with a bright smile.

Jimin glances back at Jungkook who has yet to notice you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” You nod.

“Harmony can you please watch them for a second?”  “Me? Um, I guess but-”

You skate to the edge of the rink and Jimin follows, you already anticipating what this conversation is about.

“Jungkook is here.”

“I know, I saw him,” You deadpan.

“Look, I know what happened between you guys and he probably doesn’t want me to say this, but he’s been the biggest bitch since you two split, I’ve never seen him so at odds with himself.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? That’s not my fault.” You frown.

“I’m not saying that you need to do anything,” Now he understands what Jungkook meant about your infamous tone. “I just wanted to let you know, I figured you haven’t talked.”

“I’m sorry,” You hold your face in your hands, “I’m not trying to be mean, I just have a lot on my mind and I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with him today.”

“Maybe you two can talk, I’m not saying you should get back together but maybe talking face to face will help you find common ground?”

That’s advice that you know you should take but the thought of talking to him makes your stomach uneasy. It’s easier to ignore him, erase him from your life while you figure out what you want. You’re very childish in the aspect of talking things out, he is too.

“Here he comes,” Jimin looks over at Jungkook who is slowly approaching you two, “I’ll give you two some space-”

“Jimin, I swear, if you did this on purpose!-” Your threat is cut short when he skates away and Jungkook skates up to you. As if you don’t even see him, you quickly skate away, uninterested in anything he might have to say.

Jungkook knows he can’t possibly out-skate you. He mumbles a few curses before skating over to Jimin and the kids as frustrated as ever. For a moment, he almost changed course because Harmony, his biggest hater, is with them and she is one of the last people he wants to see.

“Jungkook, hey,” Jimin sighs, dreading the angry frown in Jungkook’s brows, “I’m glad you decided to-”

“Did you know she was here?” Jungkook cuts straight to the punch, not paying any mind to Harmony whose staring at him as if he’s a mass murderer.

“No,” Jimin shrugs, voice low in order not to alarm the kids who are skating near by, “you know I would have told you.”

“I’ll be in the car.” He skates off, anxious to get off the ice but he’s stopped when another skater bumps into his shoulder.

“Sorry!-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shrugs, but just when Jungkook was about to leave the guy gives him a weird look. 

“Wait, what’s your name? You look so familiar,”

“Jungkook,” He responds with a bit of impatience, “I don’t think I know you from anywhere, sorry-”

“You’re Y/n’s boyfriend! She showed me some of her pictures pictures,” Lucas smiles but Jungkook’s eyes darken, “I’m Lucas, we’re competing in pairs again next season, I’m sure she’s told you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know, probably slipped her mind,” You haven’t mentioned it on purpose. Then again, how could you? You haven’t talked in weeks.

Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, he meets your partner, and he’s not ugly,

“She said you couldn’t come because you were busy, did you come to surprise her?”

“Something like that- I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Okay, well...nice to meet you,” Lucas waves him off but Jungkook doesn’t pay him any mind. 

He thought this might go differently, why did he think that? As soon as he saw you, that tug in his heart came back, that desire to be around you came back. When you walked away, it made him feel like crap, you didn’t even want to look at him.

While he’s skating off to the side to leave the rink, he sees you taking off your personal skates and putting them in their bag. Of course, your caddie is right next to where his heavy black boots are. He enters the room opens the caddie with the little pass-code they gave him when he rented the skates. You spare him a glance as you tie your sneakers and he sits to get his shoes on.

“Did you have to ignore me like that?” He decides to speak up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You frown, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Since when did you start caring where I go?” He bites back. “You’ve been ghosting me for fucking weeks and suddenly I’m not allowed to go out?”

“I didn’t want to see you...I was doing so good, I was forgetting about you.” You lean back, not giving him eye contact.

”Wow, just what I wanted to hear,” He thought you would say something like that but he didn’t expect you to be so blunt. 

“You can’t say you’re surprised, can you?”

“No, but the least you can do is talk to me.”

”Fine, that’s fair. What do you have to say?” You stand to your feet, your bag tight in your hand/

”Believe it or not,” He gets up to lean on the wall behind him, “I love you, so I'm letting you drag me along and make all of the rules but I’m just asking that you communicate with me, I need to know what you want,” He tends to ask this question when he’s most desperate for your good side to emerge.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want? I’m not the one going around making decisions that hurt our relationship, not recently anyway.” You throw a jab at him, you couldn’t contain it anymore.

“If you’re trying to make me feel like shit, you’ve succeeded. You’ve been succeeding for weeks now, it’s actually starting to get to me, mentally.” As he says that, an unsuspecting few individuals come in to get there things.

“Can-” You pause and walk over to him to eliminate the awkward distance, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

His spirits brighten a little because at least you’re interested in continuing the conversation, you haven’t even attempted to do that until now. So when he stutters out an “okay”, his feet move as soon as yours do. He’s walking right next to you and you find yourself keeping your arms crossed, away from his hands that you would normally be holding. By the time you walk out to the rink, Jimin is still with the kids and Harmony is gone, probably in the restroom. You find a secluded area near the concession area and take a seat, he does the same right across from you. 

“Do you want to break up?” 

He puts it out there. He’s never been the one to hesitate, especially when his heart is on the line.

“What do you mean?” You swallow, not expecting to be confronted with that question.

He almost scoffs because you’re having a similar reaction to his reaction to you telling him you wanted to take a break.

“Do you not want to be in a relationship anymore? If this isn’t something you’re willing to do anymore, I need you to tell me so I can grieve in peace...I feel really lost right now.”

“Grieve? I’m not going to die if we break up, Jungkook, and I never said I wanted to break up—I never said I didn’t love you either. That’s not what this is about, it’s not about whether we love each anymore, it’s about trust.” 

“How can I gain your trust?”

You look around, making sure no one is listening in on you two before mumbling out your answer. “I don’t know...I just don’t trust you, I can’t tell you how to make it up to me because people who screw me over, I normally stay as far away from them as I can.”

All you can think about is the lies from your birth-mother, the betrayal and humiliation that came over you when you found out about your ex. Situations like that always come to mind when the subject of trust is mentioned. You’ve been hurt and Jungkook knows that, he knows when you feel like you can’t trust someone, you shut down. You want nothing to do with that person, your pain blinds you—its your character flaw.

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now,” You mumble, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I know.” He scoffs, a look of disbelief that turns into an understandable shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve always thought of you as someone I didn’t deserve, you know that,” He glances down at his twiddling fingers, “when we got together, you changed me and I’m so grateful for that...I was such a shitty person before I met you- I mean, I’m sure you think I’m shitty now but I was way worse.” It surprises you when you see tears welling at his eyes that he quickly wipes away, tattooed fingers getting a bit wet.

“Jungkook,” You lay a hand over his with sympathetic eyes, “I still love you.”

“Seriously?” He glances up at you, surprised. 

“Yes...You hurt me, you made me feel stupid and I’m not over it...But I never forget those times where I made life difficult for you, you never made me feel irredeemable. No matter how awful I acted, you never made me feel like a burden. That’s more than I can say about a lot of people in my life.”

The more you talk this out with him, the more you realize how harshly you’ve been treating him. It doesn’t change how you feel about your relationship, but it does open your eyes to the standard you’ve been holding him to. You don’t know if you’re ready to start again.

“Well, I have to be honest with you,” He looks at you through his dirty blonde locks, “it still hurts like hell to have you treat me like a stranger. That shit is painful, even for me.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur out an apology before you can really think about it, “I’m just upset at you is all...” Slowly, you take your hand off of his and your eyes wander back to his dear-like eyes. 

“Everyone’s telling me I should let you go but I don’t want to. I just need to know that you’re willing to wait for me, and to work on yourself...”

“I’ll do anything, I’ll do whatever it takes for us,”

Shortly after that day, you found yourself thinking more and more about your future. It made you cringe at one point, what were you planning to do with the rest of your life? Whatever you planned to do, you always imagined Jungkook would be by your side. Now, you’re coming to terms with the fact that things may not go as planned.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Lucas calls your name from outside of the dressing room.

”What are you doing in here? This is the woman’s locker room,” You open the door, now fully dressed in your new leotard.

”We’re the only ones here,” Lucas stands with a matching outfit, far less sparkly as yours.

”Why does she always pick these leotards for me? You always get the toned down looks-” You walk over to the mirror, furrowing your brows, “Oh, actually, this one is kinda nice.”

“She knows you’re the most dramatic out of the two of us, maybe that’s why,” He shrugs his shoulders before quickly running back out into the ballet studio. Your least favorite part of your career is the ballet lessons, it’s the most grueling.

“Come on out, Y/n, we only have the studio for the morning so we need to use our time wisely.”

“Sorry,” You walk out with an urgency, “the costume fits okay, a little snug but it’s doable.”

Coach gives you a knowing look, she’s been floating the idea of a diet around. As committed as you are to your craft, dieting is one thing you don’t think you need to do well. You try to stay fit but sometimes you’re more concerned about your dwindling love life than you dress size. The ballet instructor emerges from around the corner and you cringe, the next few hours are about to be painful. 

Yet, as the class progresses, your thoughts drift farther from the positions and you find yourself zoning out completely.

*

*

At one point in time, you couldn’t imagine being without Jungkook. Out of all of the people who’ve come and gone out of your life, he stayed. He became your best friend and your first love.

“I don’t want to be here anymore, please, just let me go home,” You sat on the hotel room floor, hair pin in your hands and a painfully cold ice bag on your ankle, “...I can’t go back out there.”

She stands with crossed arms, her unchanging expression not doing anything for your emotional state.”Y/n, you are a professional, and do you know what professionals do?”

”No.”

“They finish the competition, no matter what. You need to stay for the judging, “

“Why? I fell on my biggest jump on live television. Cindy. I look like an amateur...There’s no way in hell they’ll even consider placing me. That means I’m done for, I might as well kiss nationals goodbye.”

”That was the last program, you still have a chance-“

”Not after Charlotte’s routine! You said it yourself, I had to be flawless or Charlotte would take my spot in the qualifying team, there was no room for error. This is the one time it had to be perfect...” You use the bed to help you up and you sit down n the edge of it.

”It won’t be perfect every time. You work harder than any girl I know, and not just in this sport, you work hard at whatever you do and you support yourself, you’re the only girl I know who’s parents aren’t paying for you to be here. You deserve to be here, you made one mistake, one. It’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Cindy takes a seat beside you, a comforting hand going to your shoulder, “these things happen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down and think rationally. Cindy is trying her best to talk you off of the ledge but you’re very much still there. She says you work so hard, but what do you have to show for it? You’re doing this alone a majority of the time. Your family only comes to support you sometimes, they don’t have a lot of free time to spend on your hobby. Your iceskating is a glorified hobby to them, they won’t say it but it’s true. After they told you to pick a major and find a good paying 9-5, they stopped paying for your iceskating. They’re paying for school but that’s it, you’re supporting yourself in every other aspect. That gave you all the reason to try to prove to them that you were an exceptional athlete. To prove to them that you did it all on your own, that’s your only goal. Yet, the more you reach for that, the farther you get from it.

”Listen, I need to check on the other girls, alright? I hope you reconsider.” She pecks your forehead, a motherly affection that you’ve come to appreciate from her. She is like a mom in some ways. She cares for the entire team, and she would never say it, but she has a particular soft spot for you. She can see how much you want this, how the ice can take you to a different place.

You were meant to do this, she always tells you that. She saw the fire in you as soon as she accepted you on her team. Your passion attracted her to you, you never stopped, you had so much drive. Some people are meant to fight tooth and nail for what they want, sometimes you have to ask yourself, why do I have be one of those people?

Ignoring your better judgment, you packed your bags and took the 2-hour drive back to your apartment. All while you were fleeing the city to seek refuge at home, you received multiple phone calls from Jungkook but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. When you got home, you took off your tracksuit and sank face first into your coach. 

As much as you wanted Jungkook to come to the competition, you insisted that he stay and take that job. He hasn’t been boxing as much so any extra art job he can take, you encourage him to take it. He told you he’d streamed the competition while working on the mural at a nearby bar. His heart sank when you took that fall.  You put hours of practice into that routine and perfected it, he had seen you do it flawlessly several times. 

All he wanted to do was hug you and tell you that you did well but all he could do was hope that you weren’t beating yourself up. He could only imagine how devastated you were and to not be able to be there for you, he couldn’t stand it. He finished up the mural and you had finally texted him saying, ‘I came home early.’ He went straight to your apartment with the big pink bunny he bought for you, you need it even more now.

”Hey, it’s me,” He opened the front door and announced himself softly and walks further inside. 

The television barely illuminates the living room but he sees you laying on the couch. He sits the bunny down behind the couch so you can’t see them before walking around to greet you in your depressing state.

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, baby,” He rests a hand on thigh and kisses your cheek, “you must’ve known how much I was missing you,” His attempt to make you smile goes painfully unnoticed. 

He bites at his bottom lip in thought. “Did something happen?...”

You swallow the lump in your throat and finally look him in the eyes, “Did you watch my second program?” 

“I did, you looked beautiful-”

“I’m quitting.”

He turns his whole body to you, brows deeply furrowed like a cartoon character. “What?”

You cover your face with a pillow, successfully hiding your tears, “I’m calling Cindy to tell her I don’t want to do it anymore, I quit.”

“Woah, wait, why?” He takes the pillow from you to see your face, “Y/n, calm down, what’s going on? Tell me what happened.”

“I- I didn’t make the national team, that was my only chance until next year. All my hard work went down the drain and everyone saw me screw up..” You wipe your tears with your sleeve.

“Hey, it’s okay, you cry if you need to,” He pulls you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest, “I know this is tough for you but it’s not the end of the world, it’ll get better.”

You pull away from him as if he were suddenly hot to the touch and bury your face into the arm of the couch. “You wouldn’t understand, the pique of my career was riding on this, and I blew it. It feels like the end of my world, okay?” 

You know your words are muffled by the couch, that’s probably for the better anyway. “T- that’s just how I feel...” 

He doesn’t pry any further after that. He knows there’s not much he can say to change your mind right now. Instead, he scoots closer to your side and places a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he waits for you to continue.

“I have nothing if I lose this, there’s all this pressure on my shoulders and its tearing me apart...” You turn to wipe your face and sit up. “I love skating, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do...if I stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You’ll never forget that night. 

He lifted you into his lap and kept his arms tight around you. “You’re so much more than just your skating. You’re so good at but it’s not all that you are.” Jungkook has a way of talking you off of the edge but that night, you were especially down on yourself.

“Yes it is...” 

“No it’s not,” He sighs, “look, I know what it feels like to find your identity in something and then all of a sudden, that something is gone...When my portfolio got rejected, I felt like a failure. My family never got behind the boxing thing, so I’ve always tried to find another way to support myself just in case for whatever reason it doesn’t work out...I didn’t start realizing that until recently. I’m constantly torn between giving up one dream for the other but I want to do both, you actually inspire me to do both.” You furrow your brows, briefly abandoning your own issues to listen to him. 

“You work so hard and you’re showing your family that you can do this, you just have to believe in yourself, and you know what? You’re doing amazing. Tonight was just a bad night, it happens.” He squeezes you tight and you do the same, arms fastened around his neck as if it would kill you to let go.

You didn’t need to say anything after that. You settled your mind and you were no longer at the edge, you were still close, but not there. With your head resting over his shoulder, you try to peek over the couch to see what he dropped back there when he walked in.

“Hey, what’d you think you’re doing?” Jungkook leans forward and your grip around him is loosened so you can no longer look back there. “You think I got something for you?”

You look down a bit embarrassed that he caught you, “Well, yeah...you did,  didn’t you?” You smile for the first time tonight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally.

He was going to tease you for wanting your gifts even though you just had a meltdown. But how could he? He wants to keep this smile on your face for as long as possible.

“Sit,” He lifts you off his lip and back to your previous seat on the couch, “no peeking.”

You hold your hands over your eyes, excited even thought have no idea what it might be.

“Okay, open.”

When you move your hands to see you squeal in excitement. “Oh, Jungkook! It’s so cute!” You stand up to take the pink bunny that’s almost more than half your size. “Thank you,” You lean into him with the bunny between you two, “it’s so big and soft, like you.”

“Yeah I know,” He sways from side-to-side with you in his arms, “you feeling better?”

You muffle your sigh into the stuffed animal, “I still wanna quit.”

“Oh stop,” He pulls the from your grip and tosses it onto the couch, “you’re just being bratty now,”

“No I’m not,” You whine, the issue still very fresh, “I’m still sad...I just really like my gift and I’m happy to see you...But I am still upset.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” He lays on the couch and beckons you into his arms to lay on his chest, “let’s cuddle you until you feel better then, will that help?” 

“Maybe...”  

You’d be lying if you said you could live without that side of him.

*

A few days later, you’re surprised you hadn’t heard from him. But when you get back from the gym with a missed call from him and a solemn text to  ‘call back when you can’, you actually call him back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Thank you for calling me back.” 

His voice sounds relaxed but a bit anxious.

“Did you need something?” You sigh, pouring your boiling water in your mug.

“Are you free to go with me somewhere at 11? And then maybe, we could grab dinner? Just-...Don’t be mad, please.”

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I signed us up for couples therapy.”

“You did what?” Somewhere in your mind, you had wanted him to bring this up—you never imagined that he actually would.

”You said we don’t know how to work on ourselves together, I read that therapy helps with that. Will you go with me? If you don’t like it, you never have to do it again I swear.”

“Jungkook...I appreciate the effort, I really do, but how did you find this therapist? Do you trust them?”

”Of course. He has great reviews online and my-...Well, my mom found him actually.”

You pause, a bit taken aback. He talked to his mom about your relationship and he took her advice about seeing a therapist? He must have really taken your words to heart about getting help.

“Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20.”

When he picked you up, you were reminded just how well he could clean up. Sure, he always dresses so well and smells amazing, but he’s different today—you can tell he put in a lot of effort. You’re glad you decided to do your makeup and where a nice sundress, you would have felt terribly under-dressed.

“Hi, how can I help you?

“Hi, we have an appointment for Jeon at 5, with Seojoon.”

You stand next to Jungkook at the front desk, your hands tightly clutching your purse. It’s hard to not think the woman is judging you and Jungkook for being here. She’s probably seen hundreds of people come into this office but something in you can’t shake the feeling. She directs you two to the waiting room and says he’ll come get you two in a few minutes.

“So,” You begin, glancing at Jungkook, “I’m nervous...” 

“Me too.” This is new for the both of you. In only a few seconds, who you assume to be Seojoon emerges from the hallway and you look at him a bit wide-eyed. 

“Hi, Jungkook, Y/n, are you two ready?” 

“Oh, um, yes.” You stand up in sync with Jungkook, already wanting to run out of here but you resist.

You have to admit that the office is really nice, not stiff and sterile looking, the energy is very calming. Seojoon opens the door to a cozy-looking room with tons of natural sun light. There’s warm-rose colored couch that you assume is for ‘the couple.’

“Alright, you can take a seat right there, make yourselves comfortable.” He smiles, taking a seat and you two do the same.

“So let’s get right into it. What brought you two here today? If you could both tell me your separate answers, that would be great.” Despite Seojoon looking at you directly to presumably go first, you divert your eyes and look at Jungkook to say something first.

“Well, we’re- I think we’re going through a lot right now and I just want to save our relationship.” Jungkook sits back, resting against the arm of the couch as he gazes at you to give your answer.

“What about you, Y/n?”

You glance down at your lap, feeling very out of your comfort zone and not confident enough to verbalize what you would like to say. Alas, you try.

“I feel the same way, we’re not in a good place and I’m confused about what to do-...I just want what we used to have.” You confess a bit of your true feelings but ignore the longing look Jungkook gives you.

“When did you start feeling like the relationship was changing?”

“Fairly recently. We were fine, at least I thought we were until I saw him with another girl back in an old lifestyle that I thought he gave up...”

Seojoon diverts his attention away from you and to Jungkook. “Jungkook, do you want to share a little bit about that?”

“Not really,” He answers honestly at least.

“Why not?”

“To be honest, I don’t know why she keeps throwing the same jab at me. I’ve told her the truth but she doesn’t want to hear it. I went out that night,” He almost glares at you, “I didn’t plan to. I ran into an old friend and I just-...I thought it was harmless and I got caught up...” 

Seojoon scribbles something down. “Okay, so can you fill me in a little bit. Are we talking about unfaithfulness? Addiction?”

“Unfaithfulness,” You interject. “he said he didn’t cheat on me but...” You mumble, your confidence faltering for some reason. “It’s hard to believe that.”

“But you think he did so you have some distrust. Were you unfaithful, Jungkook?”

“It doesn’t matter if I say I did or I didn’t, she thinks I did.” He shrugs.

”Y/n,” Seojoon puts an end to the death stare you had on Jungkook, “can you tell Jungkook what cheating looks like to you?”

”Not sleeping with her doesn’t mean you didn’t cheat on me. Letting her put her hands on you- And I don’t care if it was just a kiss! You shouldn’t have been in that situation, and for me to have to see it on social media? I could have killed you I was so mad. You should ask Jungkook what cheating is to him. We obviously have different standards for defining it...”

”What does cheating look like to you, Jungkook?” He heeds your suggestion without any push-back.

”To me,” He hesitates, feeling a bit scrutinized, “it’s when a person violates the intimacy of the relationship by giving it to someone else.”

“What kind of intimacy?”

“Emotional, physical, every kind,” He turns to you, “I wouldn’t do thingst that I do with Y/n with anyone else, not by choice-”

“Yes you would! You did...Are you trying to tell me that you were assaulted? That she forced her way on you?”

“I was blitzed! I don’t fucking know. All I do know is that she got on top of me and I pushed her off. That’s it. I swear, if anything else happened, I don’t remember it.”

“I don’t care. You know what I’ve been through, to even allow another girl to even get close to touching you like that...It was a slap in the face.”

Seojoon’s ears perk up at the mention of your past. “Did you have to go through a similar situation in a previous relationship?” 

“Yes and he knows this. I was being cheated on before and the guy had a literal baby on the way throughout our entire relationship...It was traumatizing.” It stings his ears to hear you say that. But it’s true, he knows your past and he didn’t let it stop him. 

“What happened must have triggered you,” You nod to yourself, “but you’re here to try to work through forgiveness and build trust. If you two are comfortable with it, I’d like you do do two exercises; one here and one when you’re alone. The first one that you’ll do here, I need you to face each other, preferably close, and I have some questions for you two to ask each other.”

“Like this?” Jungkook answers instantly and turns to you, getting closer to you than he has in weeks. You face him slowly, eyes wavering a bit. His face has always been a soft-spot for you, staring at him makes you feel weak.

“Actually,” Seojoon stands up, gesturing for you to do the same, “two chairs might be more comfortable, yeah? Let’s go to my other room.”

You follow Seojoon to a small room with three chairs a small table in front of them. Jungkooks pulls seat out so they’re facing each other. When you look up to acknowledge him with deliberate eye-contact, for a moment he thinks you might be softening. 

“I want you all to start with ‘I’ statements, tell your partner how you feel or how you felt in this case. Try to maintain eye-contact and truly listen to each other.”

“I’ll go first,” You volunteer because you want to get this over with.

“I feel alone and helpless when you go back to your old habits, I feel like you’re hiding things from me...” You find a way to keep your eyes-locked to his. 

“I’m not asking you to be perfect but I just want you to make me feel special to you...Like you wouldn’t dream of being with someone else. Because I don’t think of loving anyone else, and trust me I’ve tried to imagine it but I can’t,” You bite your cheek to keep from crying, “you make it so hard to trust you. You don’t listen and you don’t change until it’s too late.” 

Being emotionally inept is something you are both too good at. It’s difficult for you to share your true feelings with a clear mind, but when you do, you can never guess what will happen next. 

“I feel trapped by you. I know I fucked everything up, okay? You don’t have to keep reminding me.” His tone is harsher than you anticipated. 

“I’m trying to put in the fucking effort to help us, and I’m giving you time. But when you tell me you still want me but you won’t even let me come around, it’s confusing. You’re confusing, that’s just how I feel.” His brows furrow and you notice Seojoon watches the exchange intently.

“But I miss you and I want you back, I don’t want to take a break,” He leans forward with his hands firmly gripping your knees over your dress, “I know you think I’m an asshole but I try to change, I’m trying, you know I wouldn't bring you to this if I could think of any other way to prove that to you.” The strain in his voice only stirs more emotions inside of you. 

“Jungkook,” Seojoon calls his name softly and Jungkook looks over as if he forgot he was there, “try not to engage in any physical, okay? It can be overwhelming.”

“Sorry,” He takes his hands from you and sits back, “that’s all I want to say.” 

“Alright, well, um,” Seojoon clears his throat, eager to break the tension up a little bit, “unfortunately our session is up but I want to give you two a list of exercises and talking points. I know this was a consultation appointment but I want to give you some things to work on at home. I’ll have Kelly type up your homework, alright?”

“Okay, thank you,” you both thank the therapist but you get up with an urgency and leave the room before Jungkook can follow you. When you make it out to the waiting room, you spot the bathroom and you bolt to it. Before you have to spend a car ride with him, you need to get your emotions together. 

“Mr. Jeon,” The receptionist calls him from the hall, “this is for you, you can bring it back to the next appointment for a discount.” Jungkook halfheartedly thanks her before going to the car. He doesn’t even know if there will be another session. He needs to smoke before you come out and you’ll freak if he smokes while you’re in the car. 

“Why did I come here...” You look at the mirror and frown, you look so rough. It was nice to get everything out in the open but you knew he’d get intense eventually. Only when the toilet flushed did you remember that there were multiple stalls in here. When you look away from the mirror to fumble through your purse, just trying to avoid talking to her. 

”Hi, how are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Oh god, nervous, I’m nervous. Me and my husband, we’re newly weds, our appointment is in five minutes and I really don’t know what to expect. Did you have an appointment with your partner?”

“I did,” You sigh, “it was-...It was fine, don’t be nervous.” In your attempt to comfort her, you find your self in a highly hypocritical position. “Me and my boyfriend, we’re different so ours was a little- A little chaotic but I think it helped a little,” You hesitate, “I don’t know.”

“That makes me feel a little better, hopefully my husband behaves himself,” She tosses her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and smiles, “well, it was nice meeting you.”

It takes you a moment but you gather the strength to wave goodbye and go face your boyfriend.

”Excuse me, Miss, I think your husband forgot to grab this.” The receptionist waves you over and hands you a little folder.

”Oh,” You try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.  he’s not my- We’re not married.” 

”Oh, I’m sorry! He only put his last name on the appointment so I thought it was your name as well. Sorry about that, have a great rest of your day.” She bids you farewell with a flustered smile.

When you walk outside, you see Jungkook leaning against the car. You thought he might’ve been smoking but you can’t detect any small. That’s a relief.

”You feeling okay?” He questions gently. 

You nod, hopping in the car with the desire to be home already. He gets in the car and glances at you from the corner of his eye, he worries that this might have been too much for you. 

“Where do you want to eat?” 

“There’s a ramen place down the street, that’s fine with me.” You suggest, eyes trained on your phone.

The air in the car isn’t tense or stiff, its just quiet. There’s a lot to unpack from the session and you figured Jungkook was thinking through it too. That’s why when you two arrived at the ramen shop, took your seats, and placed your orders, the silence was getting to be a bit too awkward for you.

“I like the new hair, you’ve never gone this blonde before,” You glance up at him, trying to start a conversation, “it looks good.”

“Thanks, it was an impulsive thing. I heard you decided to get back into pairs,” He brings the coke to his lips, “I was surprised to hear that.”

“Oh, yeah,” You figured he would find out soon, “I’m back with Lucas for the season.”

“Good for you,” That’s not a reaction you were expecting from anti-pairs-skating Jungkook. Then again, you know him well enough to know that he’s probably keeping his true opinion to himself.

“The receptionist gave this to me,” You pull the paper out of your purse and show it to him, “I think it has additional information.”

“Let me see,” You hand it to him, “hm, soul-gazing? What the hell is that...” He reads over the description and it makes him giggle. “Nonverbal communication between lovers, allows couples to explore intimate places in the relationship. We do this already, but it’s a little more than eye contact,” He recalls those dreamy moments that he used to share with you so often, gazing at you with a smile.

“We can try that later maybe,” You avoid his smile with a glance out the window.

“Okay. So, about the session today, I hope you understood where I was coming from...I didn’t expect to say all that, I’m sorry if it was too much.”

“Don’t apologize, I wanted to hear how you felt.”

“I’m sorry,” He extends a hand out on the table, hoping you’ll take it, “I’ve thought about what I’ve done and I’ve tried to repent for it. But at the end of the day, it’s up to you. But just tell this once, you miss us, don’t you?”

“I do, Jungkook...It’s just, I’m in a tough spot and I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint anyone or myself.”

“You’re talking about your friends or your family?” He frowns at the thought of either party trying to discourage you.

“My family doesn’t know anything about this, it’s my friends who are concerned for me. They saw me get hurt and they don’t want to see it happen again, they want me to be happy.”

“Don’t listen to them, all they do is talk shit about me and try to tell you what you need. The only people who have a say in this relationship is you and me. We choose what makes us happy, not them.”

“But I’m not happy,” And it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still being judged, “I’ve actually been depressed when I think about us, when I think about what we used to have and what we have now, how did this happen?”

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” He sighs when you finally reach out to take his hand, “I never mean to hurt you,”

“I want you back so bad sometimes,” You break, letting your true feelings out to him, “but just because I want it doesn’t mean I should, it’s always been hard for me to separate the two.”

“That never stopped you before,” He flashes that smile, the one you fell so hard for on the roof of his car. 

“Now look where I’m at,” You take your hand back, “going to therapy with you.”

*

*

Jungkook took you home and sunset had passed, it was already dark. You found yourself inviting him in, hugging him longer than you should have when he was on his way out. Why were you holding on to him so tight? His bomber jacket lands on the floor and you relish in his arms, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it won’t hurt to let him in, indulge. It doesn’t take long before you let him kiss you for the first time in weeks. It feels new, it can happen a thousand times and it’ll always feel new. 

But then your phone begins to ring and reality washes over you like a cold shower.

“Wait,” You pull away from the kiss and slide off of the counter to his dismay, “I need to get that-”

“Ignore it,” Jungkook cups your jaw, trying to persuade you with longing eyes, “please ignore it-”

“I can’t, it’s my mom, something might be wrong,” You quickly answer the phone and walk into the living room. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home, is something wrong?”

“You forgot, didn’t you? Your brother Leo, you were supposed to pick him up so he could stay with you for the night. me and your dad had to take Milo to his Taekwondo tournament for the weekend.” Your mother stresses over the phone.

“I’m so sorry! Mom, seriously, I totally forgot,” This is the worst possible timing, “doesn’t Leo have his license, he can drive here, can’t he?”

“We have the car. Don’t worry about it, it’s handled now, his friend came by and he’s staying with him.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that crossed my mind,” You can’t help but feel as if you’ve disappointed her by forgetting such a simple thing, “I’ve been busy, I’m prepping for the next season, I’m working and in school, it’s a lot right now-”

The conversation  ends with a cold lecture from her and a solemn goodbye when she hangs up. You massage your temples, and look at Jungkook who’s coping with the best part of his day being ruined by a phone call.

“Everything okay?”

“I forgot to pick up my brother, my mom asked if he could crash here but I forgot all about it..”

“When have any of your siblings actually visited you? Except for your sister when she needs a babysitter.” Jungkook always sports a defensive tone when your family comes into the conversation.

“He’s only come over a few times. But he has friends who live over here so that’s normally why,” You take a deep breath. “She sounded frustrated so I know she’s upset.”

”Don’t stress about that,” He comes in close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “your mom shouldn’t beat you up about that, especially since she knows how much you have on your plate.” He smooths down your hair and kisses your forehead gently. That innocent forehead kiss quickly migrated down to your neck and you bite your tongue.

”Jungkook, please,” You get out of his embrace and leave him longing.

"Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you, this isn’t like you. You push me away but never for this long,” He follows you to your bedroom where you kick off your shoes and take off you cardigan. ”If you’re serious about making this work again, you’ve gotta help me out a little here.” 

You feel him looming behind you, so close that you feel the warmth of him on your lower-back, or is that his hand?

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m being really nice right now,” You step away from him, “but you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” He feigns ignorance.

“If that’s what you were hoping for you should just go,” You pick up his jacket and hand it to him, “it’s not happening.”

“Ok, but do you mind if I stay the night?” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, debating whether or not that’s a good idea.

“Why? It’s not even that late yet.”

“I don’t want to make the drive home, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He pleads, those big round eyes helping his case immensely.

“Fine. But you’re on the couch,” He looks a bit disappointed but he was expecting that, “I’m gonna shower, you can wait for me or use the guest bathroom if you want.”

With that, you walk off into your bedroom to get your clothes and then into the bathroom in the hall. Though you hesitated to let him stay, it’s really not a big deal now that you think of it. He’s stayed over more times than you can count so you feel no need to punish him by saying no.

Baby steps. 

Jungkook falls into the couch, relieved and anxious—but mostly relieved. He was sure you were going to throw him out. When he hears the shower turn on, he begins to wonder what you might be thinking about, do you want him the way he wants you right now? If so, you’re hiding it pretty well. Just being in your home makes him feel comfortable and happy, that and your presence. You’ll be a while in the shower so he figures a few moments of relaxation on the balcony won’t hurt. 

*

When you step out of the steamy bathroom, you hug your robe tightly to your body. Curious to see what he’s doing you peek out of the hall and see him on the balcony, shirt nowhere to be seen and smoke wafting from the little stick in his finger. Jungkook has always been a temptation, a forbidden fruit so to speak. You had one bite, and that’s all it took. 

It’s a warm night, that’s probably why he’s showing all of the neighbors his tattooed glory, you giggle to your self at the thought. You run to your room to slip a t-shirt and shorts on so you can join him, you can indulge him in conversation at least.

“Hey, I was going to get a snack,” You open the sliding door and he looks back at you as he exhales a a cloud, “are you hungry?”

“I’m okay,” He puts it out in the ashtray, “thanks,” 

“You didn’t have to put it out for me,” You step onto the patio and close the door behind you.

“I was done anyway,” He says that but he clearly wasn’t, he’s just being sweet, “how was your shower?”

“Good,” You sit beside him, “you can go ahead and shower if you want to, you know where your clothes are.”

“I will in a minute,” He looks out, enjoying the view of the city, “it’s beautiful out here...”

“Yeah,” You smile, reminiscing on the many moments you two have shared together on the balcony.

“So,” Jungkook sighs, probably reminiscing on the same thing, “do you want to do that exercise?...”

“Exercise?- Oh, the eye-contact thing, we can...” You turn to him and he does the same, “so, do we-”

“Shh,” He holds a finger to his lips, “we’re not supposed to talk,” 

You swallow, eyes locked on his and his on yours. His eyes are so dreamy and mesmerizing, they always have been. This eye-contact is giving you a great excuse to analyze his face. The little mole under his lip, his cute nose and cheeks—you’re trying not to look at his body but it’s hard to do that right now. 

He’s doing the same thing to you. Your eyes, nose, lips, he’s just taking it all in as if your a sculpture at a museum. Looking at each other like this reminds you both to see each other, to really see the human you both decided to love.

“Jungkook,” You know you’re not supposed to talk, “don’t cry...” You thumb the tears away from his cheeks, your motherly habits kicking in.

“Shit,” He wipes his cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” He’s so emotional, it’s more endearing than anything.

You cup his jaw and kiss the apple of his cheek, then his lips. His hands are almost shaky when he reaches up to hold your face, you lead his hand to your face to let him know that you don’t mind.

“I love you too,” You breath, your head in the nape of his neck, “but I can’t do this, I shouldn’t...”

Once you realize you’re no longer in your own chair but in his, it’s too late to pretend you’re not equally as desperate. It escalates and the best and worst happens. 

[that-house]

James' Quick n' Shitty Microwave Pasta

when I was a young lad, I worked in the plutonium mines gathering raw materials so that my country's supreme leader could wage his deadly war against the free world. I would wake up at 5 in the morning and stumble home at midnight, lightly irradiated and sore from a day's hard labor. the overseer was cruel and my fellow workers were dispirited, but I always held out hope for a better life, one in which I could be free of tyranny and maybe mine something less lethal, like mercury or lead. on those rare nights that I didn't shit myself to sleep due to my diet of razor blades, meth, and pasta, I would look up at the sky and wonder what it was like in other places. then before I knew it I would awaken to the screams of the supreme leader's political opponents being fed to the sharks (our glorious nation's chief sport), knowing it was time for another day of backbreaking work in the mines. my one achievable goal was catching the eye of a military recruiter and being subjected to years of hideous and illegal experiments and then being unleashed upon our enemies to tear into them with my genetically modified talons, but I had no such luck and ended up being banished from the country when I lost all of my flesh besides my brain in a cave-in. I then took up a job announcing winning lottery numbers on a united states news channel, but I never forgot my heritage or the pasta that got me through 12 consecutive years of famine. when you work hard, you don't always have time to prepare a full meal, but as long as you have leftover pasta in the fridge, this recipe will let you create something slightly tastier than plain pasta with only a minute's work.

ingredience

- 1 handful plain pasta (cooked last week and refrigerated for days)

- 1 spoon's worth of parmesan cheese, grated

- a few meaty cranks of pepper

- a dash of camp mix (salt, pepper, garlic powder, celery salt, and maybe a few other things idk if this is just a New England thing but it's not too hard to find around here)

recipe

1. put it all in a bowl

2. put it in the microwave for like a minute

3. consume hot

the cheese should melt into a gluelike substance that resists all attempts to remove it from the sides of the bowl and the pasta should be hot. eat it it's pretty good for how little work it takes.

[pillage-and-lute]

Thicker Than Water (Part 5)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, (here) Part 6, Part 7,  Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

Happy to announce that Thicker Than Water will be getting a companion piece from Geralt’s POV called The Blood of the Covenant, but probably not for a little while, because it’s still in the very early stages yet.

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The three days to  Ard Carraigh were torture for Jaskier, and yet they were almost numb. He’d finished his story for Ciri and was talking less. Part of his brain delighted in it. Talking less would make Geralt like him, he was being good, not being too much. He knew, though, he was just too tired to talk. 

It seemed that a weight had taken up residence in his chest. Many weights had, the feeling of being a burden, the constant ache of rejection, but this was a new feeling, cold and heavy and hot all at the same time. He was slower too. Jaskier tried, he tried so hard, but he needed a new cloak and better boots and even with them he got the sense that his body just...couldn’t go any faster.

Since only Geralt had a horse, he’d taken to walking alongside Roach, rather than riding her. Ciri was happy to skip ahead and come back and walk all around so that she probably walked twice the distance Jaskier did. Sometimes she took Jaskier by the hand as if trying to pull him along, and he’d smile at her and trot a few paces to the front of the group, but he just couldn’t manage more.

He wondered if it was because he wasn’t eating much. Jaskier knew he needed food, but he just wasn’t hungry, and wasting food on someone who wasn’t hungry for it wouldn’t get him into Geralt’s good graces.

They day before they reached Ard Carraigh the first snow had fallen. It was tiny and wet and gone by the time the sun was fully above the horizon, but it crunched underfoot and set a chill into Jaskier’s bones. He’d eaten a little more heavily than he had lately at breakfast that day, and he wondered if that was why his body felt so heavy.  He was unable to stop himself from falling to the back of their little group, even with Ciri’s coaxing. 

Once, when she tugged at his hand he chuckled and jokingly said, “Little lady, please spare an old man such exertion,” with a funny little bow, then exaggeratedly put his hand on his back, as if he were too geriatric to straighten fully. When Ciri giggled at that he mimed hobbling along with a cane, and moving his lips as though he were toothless and gumming at something. She laughed, bright and clear, and even Yennefer smiled. Geralt’s eyebrows lowered, though. It wasn’t an angry face, but it wasn’t a happy one and Jaskier couldn’t parse it out. 

As the day wore on Jaskier felt the cold. His traveling cloak had seen too many winters and wouldn’t bear another one. It was patched and dirty and worn so very thin. The wind bit at Jaskier, feeding off of him, feeling like it was freezing the very air inside his lungs. No matter how he tucked his cloak around him, no matter that his doublet was buttoned all the way to his chin, Jaskier felt frozen. 

He slowed down, feeling panic rising in his throat. He was too slow, he was going too slow. His mind hurtled backwards in time. Those times that he’d woken up to an empty camp, with Geralt packed up and leaving while he slept. Waking up in inn rooms that had held two people when he fell asleep, only to find himself alone, all of Geralt’s posessions gone. 

He was going to get left behind again.

His legs were lead, though. There was very little that hurt more than Geralt leaving him behind, but maybe it would be for the best. He felt like he’d just fall forward onto the frosty ground and stay there. The little family could go on and he could just stay, dissolving into the leaf mold. 

Ciri would worry though. She’d come back and take his hand and he knew if he stopped he couldn’t get up again and she’d worry. She might even cry. Making Ciri cry, those big green eyes filling up because of him, that would be worse, even than being left behind. Hurting Ciri would be worse than anything. 

Jaskier found a few more steps. 

It was like turning a crank handle that never did anything, or riding a horse all day, but every time he thought of Ciri, lip trembling, he could continue. 

When it was almost evening he slowed further. He was maybe twenty paces behind Yennefer and Geralt. Yen, despite looking much better, was still not healed, and walked slower than her standard, brisk pace. Geralt, of course, walked at her side. Jaskier considered that twenty paces was good enough. The wind was behind them and it almost seemed to push him forward, digging icy fingers through his cloak. 

Part of him fretted for his lute in the cold weather, even inside the case, but what did it matter. He would sell her in less than a day. 

He wasn’t going to cry about it. Tears prickled at his eyes but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not one. Because there was Ciri, up ahead, so bright in her Cintran blue cloak. She’d found a stick and was stabbing at imaginary villains. Jaskier would do anything for her. He would make it to Ard Carraigh, he would make it up the mountain and to the keep. He would even sell his lute. 

His body had other ideas. 

Jaskier stumbled on a root, hidden under fallen leaves. He fell, one knee down, the opposite hand catching him against the ground. It was like Atlas, carrying the world, as if a weight was pressing him down. He couldn’t stand back up. 

Ciri trotted over and took his other hand. His fingers were stiff and going blue, but he wrapped his hand around her mitten, which was slightly too big for her hand. He stood, Ciri tugging him slightly.

He smiled wanly at her and she grinned back. 

It happened again, though, only a few more paces along. Bumps and ditches that would normally mean nothing overrode his weakening limbs and shaky balence. He stumbled and fell, catching himself again and feeling the cold ground ache his knee where it hit. 

His head spun. 

Ciri was tugging at his hand but his ears were ringing. Something big and warm wrapped around him. It was slightly rough fabric, and it smelled like horse. Geralt’s cloak was sturdy enough to block the wind and the hood over Jaskier’s head warmed his ears. 

Jaskier’s eyes were open but he wasn’t seeing anything. He could feel, though. There were arms around him, warm, big arms, cradling him as easily as if he were a sack of flour. He recognized the feeling, too, from more than a decade ago, when blood had welled from his throat and Geralt had held him. Jaskier felt the lift as Geralt mounted Roach, settling  his head into the crook of Geralt’s neck.

“We’ll stay in an inn in Ard Carriagh,” Geralt was saying. Jaskier didn’t care. He was too tired to care even that he was being a burden, because his eyes slid shut and Geralt was holding him as though he were something precious.

As if Jaskier were something to be cared for.

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

Jaskier woke up in an inn room. Alone. 

His heart raced, tears welling in his eyes. He’d been a burden. He couldn’t keep up and they’d left him in some inn and moved on. The blankets were suffocating and he kicked them away, getting tangled in them. He could hardly see for the tears in his eyes. They’d left him. He hadn’t been good enough, not fast enough or strong enough and they’d gone. Even Ciri.

“Jaskier?”

Geralt was standing in the doorway. 

“Uh, Geralt, hi, wasn’t expecting you here.” It was the truth.

“...I heard your heartbeat.” 

Of course, his heart had been beating out of his chest, it was only now calming down.

“Oh, well,” Jaskier said, trying to play it off. “Woke up in this room and I didn’t recognize where I was.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. “You passed out.”

Jaskier hung his head and fought tears again, feeling hot shame seep down his neck. He’d failed. He’d really failed. All that work to not be a burden and it was all down the drain. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his hands. I’ll do better, he thought. I can do better please don’t leave me behind. Please don’t take me off your hands.

He didn’t say it. It was battered and broken and worth very, very little, but he still had some pride.

“You’ve been eating little,” Geralt said. There was an undertone there, a soft undercurrent of something else. Jaskier didn’t know what it meant but he wanted to sink into it and wrap it around himself.

“I just haven’t been hungry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I would faint, I just truly wasn’t hungry.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “We would have stopped here anyway, Ciri needs it.” 

“Is she alright? You’re not disguised, is that safe?”

Geralt shook his head. “I am disguised, you can just see through it.” Geralt shook his head again, a little more dramatically, and just for a second it was as if the magic needed time to catch up, and his hair and eyes were dark, a full beard covering his face.

“Woah,” Jaskier said. 

“It tired Yen out,” Geralt grunted. “So don’t annoy her.”

Right. With the almost easy companionship and tentative worry Jaskier had almost forgotten. He was just an annoyance.

Jaskier stood, fighting his spinning head. “Right,” he said, glancing out the window at the water light. “Morning, and I have things to do, so...” He picked up his lute in her case and...

And they were in Ard Carriagh. Where Jaskier needed to sell her. 

“I might just tune up this lovely lady,” he said, sinking back onto the bed and cradling the case. 

“Yen is consulting on an apothecary’s question,” Geralt said. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, like at any moment he would either sit down or leave.

“Good for her,” Jaskier said, not looking up from the lute case as he flicked open it’s latches, savoring the familiar click. 

“Ciri is with her.”

“That’s good, she’s safe then.” Jaskier dragged his fingers over a scratch on the wood, it was thin and long, but had no effect on her sound.

“So you have to stay with me.”

“Why?” Jaskier let his index finger curl over the lovely inlay work on her front. In his opinion, it was unmatched, but what did he know of wood working?

“To be safe,” Geralt said, still in his odd posture.

“I can take care of myself.” Jaskier, looking down at his lute, felt, rather than saw the skeptical eyebrow raise. “I’ll just eat something and be right as rain, promise.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Fine.”

Jaskier strummed one sweet chord and closed the case. No need to torture himself further. He stood and adjusted his clothes. He’d slept in them, but there was nothing nicer for him to wear. Then, he proceeded down to the taproom on the first floor of the inn. Geralt followed like a shadow. A very tall, broody shadow.

They ate in silence.

The taproom was well packed, but early enough that no one was rowdy. Between the spaces of their unhappy silence, Jaskier could hear the inkeeper complaining about the maid going off to get married and leaving him shorthanded.

It was a while since Jaskier had been to Ard Carriagh, but he had a good memory, and walked quickly through the winding streets to the luthier. His breakfast wasn’t sitting well, it was too much and too little all at once and he felt sick, but he said nothing. Any bard was an actor and Jaskier was the best. He was fine. The luthier’s shop was between a ladies clothing store and a jewelry store, tucked in and not as well kept as the shops on either side.

There was a bell above the door and it jangled as Jaskier stepped in, Geralt just behind. 

“Lute strings,” Geralt said, looking around. “Can you afford that.”

“No,” Jaskier said simply. “I’m selling my lute.”

The words burned like acid. The pit of his stomach rolled like he’d swallowed one of Geralt’s disgusting potions, but he knew his face was totally impassive.

Geralt’s however, twisted. It looked like panic, anger, and pain all at once. It looked like Jaskier felt. He almost looked to check that Geralt hadn’t dropped something heavy on his foot to make that face.

“Ooh, you wish to sell,” said the shopkeeper, next to a display of gitara picks. “The case looks very good but let’s see...”

He reached forward. His hands were pale and sweaty, fingers grabbing and outstretched and Jaskier wanted to step back, yearned to clutch his lute case to his chest rather than relinquish his beautiful girl to this man. 

He set the case on top of a glass display case instead. The clasps clicked under his unwilling fingers. The lid creaked.

“Oh, what a lute,” the shopkeeper said. He stroked the strings and Jaskier noticed his dirty fingernails. “rather mediocre condition, though...”

Jaskier wanted to audibly scoff. His lute was in mint condition, apart from the single scratch, and he knew it.

Geralt snapped the lid of the case shut, nearly catching the shop owner’s fingers. “He won’t sell it.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t buy it,” the owner protested. “Beautiful lute. Elven made?”

Jaskier nodded grudgingly. It wasn’t fair, but he didn’t like this man.

The shopkeeper hummed. “I thought so, I would probably have the frontal piece,” he opened the case again and traced the wood with the inlay. “Removed. For use on a different lute.”

Chop her up?

Geralt shut the lid again, more carefully this time, but somehow the slower closing felt angrier, rather than calmer. 

“He’s not selling. We’re leaving.”

He lifted Jaskier nearly off the ground, taking the case in one arm and gripping the bard by the back of his collar with the other hand. Jaskier spluttered as he was frog marched out of the shop.

“I was going to sell it!” He protested, back out in the watery sunlight. He clutched at his lute case, though, as Geralt pressed it back into his arms.

Geralt’s jaw was tense and his lips were thin. 

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“You aren’t selling your lute.”

Jaskier felt guilty and relieved all at once. Here was Geralt  saying he didn’t have to sell his lute. He was free of that burden, but they also needed to purchase a cart and supplies. He himself needed a cloak, boots, and gloves. Probably a hat and scarf as well. The pair ambled, unhappily silent yet again, to the center of town. Jaskier glanced at the notice board. 

“Ghoul problem,” he noted.

“No.”

“You need a contract, they have a harpy issue too, looks like. Two contracts, Geralt.”

“You have to stay with me--”

“And you won’t take me into danger, blah blah,” Jaskier rolled his eyes. He knew he was being a pest, but two contracts would likely solve their money problem. Hopefully. Not for sure.

“You should go back to the inn,” Geralt said. “I would do the contracts, they’re quick, then get you.”

An idea glimmered in Jaskier’s mind. He yawned. “Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good, I’m pretty tired still.” It wasn’t a lie because Geralt could basically smell those. Going back to the inn did sound good, and Jaskier was definitely still tired.

Geralt huffed, and they walked back to the inn. It was too late for breakfast and early for lunch, so the little taproom was basically deserted. Geralt hummed again, pressed one hand onto Jaskier’s shoulder as if trying to stick him to the floor, then left.

Jaskier walked up to the inkeeper. 

“Hi there,” he tried. He was too tired to really flirt, but the inkeeper put down his barcloth at least.

“What?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re a little short handed at the moment...” he let the sentence linger. 

The inkeeper scoffed. He was a big, red faced man with red hair to match, and when he scoffed his whole torso moved with it. “You want to do a little work for some coin, then,” he said. He didn’t sound opposed to the idea, though, so Jaskier beamed at him.

“Absolutely sir, I’m a very helpful--”

“I’ll not have you around food,” the man cut in. “That man brought you in half dead and you still look pale. Bad business getting customers sick.”

Oh. Jaskier deflated. 

“Got a water barrel needs filling though, so’s long as you don’t cough in the water. Privies need cleaning too.”

They haggled a little over the pay, but Jaskier was a world class haggler. Finally the man slapped his hands on the bar top. “Fine,” he said. “And a meal for you thrown in if you get the privies really clean. One for the little lass too.”

“She eats a lot,” Jaskier warned. He felt it was only fair, considering he would be paid decently for his work. To his surprise the man grinned. 

“My youngest does too, eats like a lion and she’s only nine. I’ll have as many helpings as your daughter wants, no problem.”

Jaskier thanked him profusely and the inkeeper waved his hand. “Just consider playing something tonight at supper, brings in customers. And get that privy really clean, mind.”

Jaskier, figuring he wouldn’t find a better deal that day, hightailed it out of there to look at the water barrell.

It was a big barrel. It would need between thirty and fourty buckets of water to fill it, and it was empty right down to the bottom. The well was at the center of town, like wells tended to be, and the inn wasn’t close, but there was a pump in the inn’s yard.. Jaskier sighed, rolled his aching shoulders, rocked slightly on his aching feet, and began to pump.

One bucket at a time, Jaskier filled the water barrell in just under two hours, feeling blisters form on his hands from all the pumping. Then he filled two more buckets and went to the privies. 

Yuck.

He sloshed one bucket each into the men’s and women’s privies and went back to the inn to ask for some soap and a scrub brush. Then the real work began. Scrubbing the wooden walls and floors of the fetid outhouses was backbreaking, and of course he had to pause every time a patron wanted to use them, but the grime came off the wood eventually and Jaskier was willing to work hard sometimes. He wasn’t being a burden.

An unintended benefit of the work was that Jaskier’s mind was temporarily taken off of how miserable he felt. HIs chest still rattled a little, and he was tired beyond belief, but maybe all he’d needed was a full meal after all.

It was late afternoon when he fetched the inkeeper to inspect the privies, and the man nodded in approval at them. Then he gave Jaskier one last task.

“Fill that tin tub by the door with water and put it over the fire there,” he said, pointing to one of the two large fires the inn’s kitchen had. “Then haul it upstairs and bathe because you smell like a privy yourself.”

Jaskier grinned tiredly and took the offered coin before doing just that, wincing as his aching muscles protested. When the water was warm but not boiling he took the small tub upstairs to his room and washed what he could. It wasn’t a big enough tub to properly bathe in, but with soap and a rag he managed to at least get clean.

He tipped the tub out and replaced it in it’s spot then curled up in the inn bed in a change of clothes, dozing. He’d been there perhaps a quarter of an hour before Geralt tapped on the door.

Geralt looked at him. “You’re clean,” he said.

Jaskier shrugged. “Struck a deal with the innkeeper. Contracts done?” Geralt held up a bag of coin in answer. 

It was odd, he thought. It was like normal, almost. Walking along at Geralt’s side. Several times he had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting on this or that. It was so hard to remember that they weren’t friends, or at least travelling companions. Whatever they had been before the whole...dragon hunt thing. His brain argued that they were still traveling companions now, and it was true, but only in the literal sense. Geralt didn’t want him around.

It got easier to remember because Yennefer rejoined them, Ciri trotting at her heels.

“Julian,” Yennefer said, using his real, more innocuous name. “Cleaned up I see, and dressed in finery,” it was a jab, although not very sharp. His clothes were worn and badly patched. “Going to go cuckold some poor husband?” It was said lightly and Jaskier smiled. 

“How do you know I haven’t already,” he said. Yennefer laughed, but Geralt growled.

“Are you and your conquests going to get us thrown out of town?”

Jaskier startled, skittering a few steps away in shock at the low, angry tone. “I was only kidding,” he protested, but he cursed his stupid mouth, always running ahead of his brain. Just like that, it seemed, the brief truce had broken, and he was back to being a shit shoveler once more.

Ciri slipped her mitten into Jaskier’s hand. “Yennefer says I need a hat,” she said. 

“I need one too,” Jaskier confided. “Why don’t you and I go get hats and scarves while those two grab other supplies.”

“You aren’t going off on your own,” Geralt growled and Jaskier wanted to flinch, but then Ciri would notice.

“I’d be only a street away,” Jaskier said. “I’ll look after her.”

“Can’t even look after yourself,” Geralt snapped. Jaskier did flinch that time, just a little bit. It was true, though. He was kind of worthless, especially if there was a fight.

“We’ll all go,” Yennefer said, glaring pointedly at Geralt. Jaskier wondered what that was about.

They all went. Jaskier paid for his new cloak, hat, and gloves, and ignored Geralt asking where he got the money.

“Did you steal it?” Gerals said, quietly, so Ciri wouldn’t hear. Jaskier sniffed.

“I’m not a thief.” 

Geralt dropped it, but his expression was stormy. 

They bought a small cart, light enough for Roach to pull by herself, and some more supplies. Yennefer even bought Jaskier new boots.

“Just giving advice on apothecarial matters is worth a hefty fee,” she explained. “I have plenty of coin.” Pleasantly surprised, Jaskier thanked her. When he tried the boots on in the shop he made a show of how much he liked them, going over the top until he heard Ciri giggle. Mission accomplished, because he made Yen smile too. 

Geralt didn’t smile.

Back at the inn Jaskier ate a big dinner, even as his stomach rolled, and delighted in seeing Ciri do the same. They were all well fed, but seeing Ciri’s delight in getting a second helping was worth any amount of blisters, or privies. 

He played after dinner, although he barely felt up to doing so, and of course was careful to avoid all mentions of the white wolf. He winked at a few patrons and even the inkeeper just out of habit. Then he ended his set early.

“Any reviews?” he asked his table, cheekily. “Three words or less?”

“Tolerable,” Yen said, smiling widely. She looked younger when she did that.

“Great,” Ciri chimed in. 

“Should’ve sold it,” Geralt grunted. Jaskier felt ice slip down his spine.

“What?”

“Should’ve sold the lute,” Geralt growled, lowly. 

Jaskier’s fingers wrapped around the strap his lute hung from, feeling hurt well up like spring water.

“No,” Yen snapped. “You two go outside and sort that out, I’m not dealing with it. Ciri and I will finish our dinner while you idiots figure this out between yourselves.”

Jaskier obeyed, feeling the heat of shame and hurt in his face and longing for some fresh air. Geralt lumbered out behind him. 

The night was cold and felt icy against Jaskier’s burning face but he turned to Geralt fuming.

“What the hell,” he said. “You tell me not to sell the lute, then you make me sit at the inn all day like a child, then you tell me I should have sold it after all? Do you hate me that much or do you just like seeing me do things wrong?”

“Better you sell the lute than whore yourself,” Geralt growled. 

That was so far from what Jaskier was expecting that he actually stepped back. “What?”

“Struck a deal with the innkeeper? All that coin? And you move like your knees are bruised,” Geralt said, jaw moving tightly. 

“I didn’t have sex with the inkeeper!” Jaskier said, half amused. “I didn’t have sex with anyone. I thought we needed the money, so I cleaned the privies, that’s why my knees are stiff. My hands are sore too!”

Geralt took one hand and turned it over to see the red, irritated skin. 

“You--?”

“No,” Jaskier interrupted. “I don’t care what you have to say.” Even though he did, he cared so much. “First of all, don’t pretend that there is anything wrong with prostitution, we both know you visit those ladies from time to time. Second, even if I was having sex with someone, for money or not, it isn’t any of your business, and third, nothing about your assumptions gives you any right to be so...so rude!”

Jaskier was ashamed to feel tears leaking from his eyes but right now he was angry, so angry and hurt, so he just kept going. 

“I am sorry,” he said, softly. “That life couldn’t give you the blessing you wanted, but the least you could do is not make this worse for both of us.”

Jaskier turned on his heel and went back to his room, where he curled up and cried himself to sleep. 

He was awoken later by a tap on the door. It was Yennefer and Ciri standing in the hallway.

“She wants to be with you,” Yennefer said.

Ciri sat on the bed and looked up at Jaskier with wide eyes. Jaskier sat next to eachother.

“Dandelion,” Ciri said, using her special name for Jaskier. “Do you hate Geralt?”

Jaskier sighed and hugged her close. “Not at all,” he said, truthfully. “But it’s like I said, bards aren’t welcome forever, it’s just how it is, and I’ve overstayed my welcome a little bit.”

“No you haven’t,” Ciri said into his shoulder. “I think you’re welcome. I want you around.”

“Thank you, little highness.”

“Geralt doesn’t hate you, I’m sure of it, he was really worried about you when you fainted.”

“He worries about everyone, that’s just the way he is,” Jaskier said. Geralt had a big heart, even if those feelings came out gruffly, he was a real hero. He just couldn’t stand Jaskier so long as Jaskier was concious.

“When my grandmother was worried,” Ciri began. “She could seem sort of mean, she’d yell or snap and it was scary unless you knew that she was just scared. Maybe Geralt was scared for you.”

Jaskier wished it was so. Could almost believe it was true. Ciri didn’t know about the dragon hunt though. She didn’t know he was a shit shoveler. Didn’t know about Geralt’s unfulfilled blessing.

Jaskier curled on his side, letting Ciri bury her head into his shoulder until she fell asleep. Eventually, face solemn but eyes dry, Jaskier slept too.

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

I promise, I PROMISE Geralt isn’t trying to be an asshole. Like I said, I intend to write this from his POV as well, he’s just worried for Jaskier and thought that Jaskier had prostituted himself, despite his illness, becuase he wanted to earn them money. Geralt felt so guilty that Jaskier would do that and, well, he’s not good with emotions and can’t control his tone well, so it came out like he hates Jaskier. He just loves him very much and is very worried about him. He also thinks Jaskier hates him because he tried to sell his lute, which Geralt also sees as a tie between him and Jaskier, so it hurt his feelings.

Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz @samukai @charlies-dragon @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @morte-mistrata @mewithanie @sharondn @stinastar @ionlylikemycat @annafortoday 

[cruisinwritealong]

R/S CandyHearts Challenge

Thank you @goodboylupin​ for this wonderful challenge! I had so much fun thinking this through. I hope you enjoy it! ♥♥♥

Thanks to @starstruck4moony​ and @kattlupin​ for the beta 😘

Remus hauls his backpack strap back up his shoulder with a frustrated groan, tightens his scarf around his neck, and then shoves his mittened hand back into his coat pocket. The bitingly cold wind blows hard and he hunches his shoulders against it. 

AAah-choo!

Shit, he feels like death. His throat is on fire and all his joints ache. His nose is raw and red, his eyes are puffy and heavy, and all he can think about is the warm blankets draped over his comfy sofa that he crawled out of this morning to trudge across the freezing campus to this fucking final. 

Last. One. 

He just has to get through this exam. One last final exam and then he’s free to sleep for the rest of his life...or until next term but still. If he was feeling well he’d be all but skipping to class. He knows this material backward and forwards. But his head is swimming and he keeps on snee- sneez-

Ah-CHOO! 

Uuuuugh.

He just has to get there, regurgitate it onto the page, hand it in, and then he can go home. He can do this. 

The snow crunches under his boots as he trudges along, forcing his feet to move one in front of the other towards his building. He’s probably sick enough to call in, but this test is with Professor McGonnagal and she only accepts death as an excuse to miss her class so she’ll definitely fail his exam if he doesn’t show and then he’ll fail the class and he could lose his scholarship and have to drop out. Then he’ll never get a job and end up on the streets and then people will look at him with pity in their eyes and hopefully toss him a coin and—oh, the coffee shop. 

Tea.

Fuck yes. A huge ass cup of tea will get him through this. That’s exactly what he needs...aaaaand if he gets the chance to see Sirius Black real quick well, that’s always good medicine—even if he doesn’t know that Remus exists. 

Sirius Black has only said six words to Remus in his whole life—“Would you like a honey bun?” And Remus had stared at him for an alarmingly long time just thinking to himself, “As long as it’s you,” but then Sirius looked confused and all Remus’ blood rushed to his face and he only mumbled a quick no thank you, grabbed his tea, and ran. Sigh. 

That was exactly 5 weeks and 3 days ago, not that Remus is counting. Or going to the coffee shop on the daily to see if he’s working. Or ordering a honey bun almost every time. Or dreaming about calling Sirius his honey bun or—

Cough Cough COUGH

Ouch. 

On second thought, maybe a coughing, snotting, feverish mess isn’t his best look. But fuck it’s freezing and he needs that tea. What time is it? Yes, he’s got plenty of time to duck in, warm-up, and make it to class. 

As soon as he’s inside the shop he pulls off his mittens, loosens his scarf, and unzips his coat a bit, all while stomping the snow off his boots before walking further in. The heat from the cozy little coffee shop defrosts his bones and hugs his aching muscles and it feels so nice that Remus moans out loud before he can stop himself. He hears a throat clearing from behind him.

Shit.

“Come on in, I got the heater cranked nice and toasty just for you.”

When he looks up, none other than Sirius Black himself is standing there in all his glorious perfection. How he can even make a barista apron look sexy is beyond Remus’ comprehension and really, really unfair.

Everything about Sirius Black is simply gorgeous. Every inch of him, down to the last detail just does it for Remus. The wisps of hair that fall around his temples, the silky look of his longer raven hair, the piercing, unique silver-blue of his eyes outlined by the curving, eloquent lashes. Remus could and has written poems and pages about just his face. Not to mention his sharp, stubbled jawline and pouty rose colored lips. And then there’s the strong, wide shoulders and strong, toned arms, and long fucking legs and that goddamn body and OK Lupin focus! He’s talking to you!!

“Umb, h-hi. It’s really cold.” Remus internally cringes at his horse and stuffy sounding voice and lack of intelligent conversation and when he looks to Sirius’ face he sees his easy smile falter a bit.

“Hey, are you ok? Don’t take this the wrong way please but, you look miserable.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he tries to laugh it off, “I habe a co—a col—AH-CHOO!” He lowers his handkerchief, “A cold. Sorry aboud that. I—”

“Remus, you should be home in bed. What are you doing out?”

“Well I juss needed some tea before my final. Trust me, I’d much radder be in bed—wait. You know my nabe? How do you know my nabe?”

“Oh, um,” Sirius’ laugh sounds forced and almost embarrassed. He scratches the back of his neck. “The red head you come in with sometimes is sort of hating, sort of dating my best friend. So...I um, I asked her who her cute friend was.” He swallows hard.

Remus has forgotten how to have a coherent thought and just stands there in silence with his jaw dropped open a bit. He blinks. 

“Buuut I’ll just get you that tea,” Sirius spins away on his heel, completely misinterpreting Remus’ silence. “Still on a cinnamon kick? I can make you your usual. Or I could make you something herbal with some ginger. I hear that helps with a cold. But I’m sure you know what’s best.” Sirius talks rapidly as he walks behind the counter and fusses with the equipment. 

Remus realizes Sirius is trying to fill the silence and quickly move on from what he just said. Because Remus is still gaping at him with his mouth open and still hasn’t said anything because motherFucker he thinks I’m cute! Cute. I’m cute. Cute friend? Oh, that’s me. Nice to meet you.

All he’s ever said to me is “honey bun” and now he knows my fucking name and I’m the cute friend and am I awake? Maybe I’m still on the sofa at home? I must be asleep because he knows my fucking name. He said… shit breathe. I have to breathe. I have to breathe and I have to talk!

“Honey bund,” blurts out of Remus’ stupid, traitorous mouth. Fucking hell.

Sirius stops the frantic tea making and lifts an eyebrow in confusion, “Honey bun?”

“I mean... I didn’t dow you dew my namb. And you asked me if I wanted a honey bund. Before. When I came in before, but that’s it.” Remus scrunches his face and tries again. “Sorry, I took bedication and I think it’s eating my brain. You said …I’m cute?”

A smile unfolds on Sirius’ face and it is like sun rays breaking through the clouds. It is breathtaking and Remus can only stand there and bask in him. Without conscious thought the corner of Remus’ mouth pulls up a bit too.

“You’re sweeter than a honey bun. And very cute.” 

“I...No that’s...You—Ah-Choo!”

“You’re also pretty sick. And as much as I want you to stay, I’m thinking you should probably be resting, yeah?”

“You’re sweet doo.” Remus smiles. “Um. I have to go take this stupid test and then sleep for a few days but...um, could we maybe, um—”

“Yes.”

They both laugh and smile at each other.

“I’d love to go out with you Remus. As soon as you feel up to it of course.”

“I’d really like that Sirius. May I habe—hab—Ah-Choo!”

Sirius frowns in sympathy. “Well I hope you can rest really soon. Here. It’s not actually tea, just um, just hot water with some cloves, lemon and ginger because my friend swears by this when she’s sick. I hope you like it. I can make something else, I just thought—”

Remus reaches out to take the cup but when his fingers wrap around the cup and Sirius’ fingers, he doesn’t let go. “This is perfect. Thank you.” 

“Good. ...Good.”

After a moment Remus lets their fingers slide apart and wraps both his hands around the steaming cup. Now he’s warm for more than one reason.

“Oh,” Sirius says, “I um, I wrote my number on the cup. You can call me if you need more tea or anything. Soup even. Or a date. Whatever you need.”

Remus laughs. “Sounds good...I’b glad I stopped in.”

“Me too.”

“See you soon Siri—Siri—Ah-Choo! Uugh.” He does his best to smile back at Sirius while he bundles up again. “Bye Sirius.”

“Feel better, Remus.” 

Sirius’ sweet caring face consumes his mind as he walks to his building, somehow not as cold as he was before. When he enters the classroom he nods hello to Lily and she waves him over to his saved seat. When he reaches his desk he sets down his tea, pulls off his mittens, scarf, and coat. Lily begins giggling to herself and Remus is very confused.

“What?” he asks her quietly. All she does is rotate his cup around so he can see the writing on the side and gives him a very knowing look.

438-9713

Feel better soon Honey Bun 

xo SB

[shoichee]

Lucky Bucket

Midorima x Reader

Word Count: 2686

Submission for @knb-kreations‘s All Hallows’ Eve event!

Prompt: black cat

»»—————　☼　—————««

Midorima hated Halloween.

Why would anyone celebrate the day that is especially infamous for terrible misfortune and ominous superstitions?

Scratch that—why in god’s name does October have to exist?

He swore that every step he took provoked different unsettling breezes that whispered various taunts of a series of unfortunate events for Cancers like him.

He even tried to convince Captain Miyaji to bail out of practice for the month out of fear for his “safety and wellbeing,” promising to practice in the sanctuary of his own backyard to compensate.

“What the fuck are you on about?” the said Captain glowered, his patience visibly thinning on his face. “If this is about your horoscopes again, I’m not hearing about that shit again. Winter Cup is around the corner, and you still think you’ll get special treatment just because you’re one of the Generation of Miracles?”

“Sh-shin-chan, I think this is the time for you to run—”

“Takao. This is none of your—”

“5 extra laps around the campus.”

---------

“You 1st-years are really pushing your luck, huh,” Kimura deadpanned, slightly huffing to catch his breath after doing the extra laps.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, Shin-chan.”

“I knew it—the horoscopes predicted that the majority of the signs would experience subpar luck today, nanodayo.”

“IT WASN’T THE PREDICTIONS THAT LED US HERE, IT WAS YOU!”

“Absolute nonsense. Why would I intentionally wish ill luck onto my teammates?”

“...”

“...”

“Can I throw my family’s pineapples at him?”

“... Maybe it’ll be better for all of our sakes if you’re out of practices just for this month.”

“That’s what I tried to tell the Captain, Otsubo-san,” Midorima sighed, disregarding the stupefying stares his teammates were giving him. “But he would not hear me out.”

“You’re such an impossible person to deal with. Takao, how are you even friends with him?—”

“I am not friends with Takao.”

“Shin-chan is just like an onion with many layers, y’see?” Takao lightly chuckles, evident that he was still short of breath from the sprinting. “I mean if anything, I wonder what (y/n)-chan sees in him.”

“Th-that is none of your business!”

“Awwwww, is Shin-chan being shy?”

“Cease this foolishness at once!”

“Oh hi, (y/n)-chan!”

“Wha—?” At the speed of Aomine’s agility, Midorima whirled around… to see nobody. Right on cue, Takao starts to struggle to hold back an unfiltered guffaw, and his other teammates had their own poor efforts of suppressing their own snickers at his moment of gullibility.

Midorima could feel his veins about to burst at his temples.

“Takao.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was too good to pass up!—oh? (y/n)—?”

“Are you daft? I’m not going to fall for that again, nanodayo.”

“Fall for who, me?”

At the sound of your voice taking on an irritatingly familiar teasing tone, Midorima reluctantly swerved his head to meet your eyes. He quickly turns his attention away back to Takao in front of him.

“Was this your game all along?” Midorima narrows his eyes.

“What? No! This one was a total accident!—ow!”

“Midomido,” you pouted, prying your boyfriend’s arms away from a dying point-guard. “I want your arms around me too, y’know?”

The entire basketball team is standing there aghast at what you just said in front of the ever-modest Midorima. Sure enough, he was ready to put Takao into a chokehold, and if one didn’t know better, they might think they were extremely close.

“...”

“Miiiiiiido,” you said, tilting your head to look up at his face. He was definitely red. “I want a hug.”

“... We’re going,” was all he said as he (rather harshly) tugged your hand to walk away from the team.

“Oi! Practice isn’t even over yet!”

“Leave poor Shin-chan be. Cut him some slack just this once.”

“Miyaji-san isn’t going to like this when he finds out Midorima isn’t at practice… isn’t he going to kill us all?”

“Easy… just don’t let him find out.”

“Don’t let me find out what.” Miyaji looms over with a threatening smile in a feeble attempt to hide his dark expression. No one needed to turn around to know it was their spartan captain. The immediate chills down their spines told them everything.

“Sh-shit! Run!”

---------

“Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~” you called out to Midorima in a sing-song voice to get him to break his silence. You knew that his amount of patience wasn’t generous like his Teiko-manager Momoi’s, nor was he honest about his feelings like his ex-teammate Kuroko, but nonetheless, he had his own unique charm that you found extremely adoring. To tease that is.

Midorima stops walking abruptly and you softly walk into him from the back, amusedly noting that he still has your hand in a tight grip in his own despite his obvious embarrassment.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” you said, ready to pull out your signature pouts again. “Have you forgotten that I was gonna bring you a bento box to you at practice? Like I usually do?”

Ah, that was right. You always made the time to drop off snacks and water in the middle of practice. He supposed that his fanatical fear of bad luck for the rest of October made him forget. While he’s not the forgetful type, some extreme things just make him feel completely out of sync with his mind. October was one of those occasions.

“... you don’t have to always do this, nanodayo.”

You giggled. That was just his way of saying: “Thank you, but I don’t feel like I deserve all of this.”

“If you really wanna thank me, kiss me on the lips every time we meet up! Even in public!”

“Wha—!” he sputters. “D-Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Half joking. But I want you to rely on me more. I don’t think of this as a burden or obligation. I want to take care of you. Because I want to. Because I love you, Midomido~”

“... Did you have to say the last part?”

“This time I’m not joking, if you didn’t know.”

A silence falls between the two of you before you teased him to break that silence.

“How long are you gonna hold my hand? Not that I’m complaining obviously, but this is way too out of character for you.”

“Sh-shut up,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast onto your linked hands. “I’m thinking, nanodayo.”

And you patiently stand there, relishing the warmth of his hand as you shamelessly drink in the sight of his sweaty form from practice. His hair was a slightly darker viridian from the perspiration, and miniscule droplets slid off his biceps, making him all the more tantalizing.

“... I want to ask you something.” He lets go of your hand and you reluctantly do the same.

“Eh?” You broke out of your admiring trance as you slowly made eye contact with him again. His piercing gaze, you noted, hadn’t changed at all even from the physical exhaustion.

“Could you…” he started, clearly struggling to get the appropriate words out of his tongue. “... bring me extra lucky items every day… just for this… month.” He didn’t even say it in the tone of a question, and his tense shoulders told you everything you needed to know.

Shy Midorima was too adorable.

“Of course!”

“J-just like that?! You’re not going to ask me why?”

“I know you just wanna be extra prepared, Midomido,” you grinned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” At your words, he visibly relaxes.

“However…” Midorima perks his head up.

“My lucky items won’t be based off of the horoscopes… but they’ll be all still chosen to help you in some way.”

“... You’re not planning anything, are you?”

“Of course not! I just feel that I would be able to help you better if I was able to choose these on my own terms since I’m not so good at astrology stuff! Plus, I celebrated Halloween and know all the October superstitions since I was a wee kid… I’m an expert on this stuff, trust me!”

Midorima hesitates before he sighs. You knew that meant he gave in and was ready to accept this without a further objection.

He is going to try to rely on you after all, so he might as well start by believing your words.

“Mido! Look! Those cats have been around lately! Aren’t they so cute??”

Please don’t let it be what he think it is, please don’t let it be what he think it is—

You dash from Midorima’s side as you ditched him for the felines, making the extra effort to coo at them to coax them towards your direction. You don’t even notice the way Midorima has his back to you, stiff as a plank.

“Ne, I’ve always wanted to pet them but they’re so sneaky and elusi—Mido? What are you doing?” you turn away from the cats to peer over the petrified greenhead. A realization popped into your head. “… No way! You can’t be scared of a bunch of cats.”

Midorima quietly gulped to himself before he slowly cranked his neck to you… before he noticed the pair of black cats analyzing him behind you. Chills visibly wracked his body before he bolted behind the nearest wall.

“(y-y/n)! Get away from them, nanodayo!”

“No, dummy! Look, they’re so affectionate and cuddly!” Midorima shrinks back further in annoyance when he sees them rubbing themselves up against you and monopolizing all of your attention. While he would’ve just tugged you away to feel your touch again… the cats were a genuine problem.

He stiffly brings out his phone before dialing his right-hand man.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

“... Takao?”

Please leave a message for Takao Kazunari.

Fuck, how could he forget? He ditched today’s practice in the heat of embarrassment. They were probably at the gym ready to kill him tomorrow. He groaned before facepalming himself. Nothing seems to be going in his favor at all.

Damn it, it was all because of October.

He resignedly sighed as he put away his cell before you hopped to his side again.

“Wahhh, the cats just left,” you whined to him. “I really wanted to pet them more…” Before you reach out to try to hold his hand again, Midorima jumps 3 steps back.

“Stop right there. Not a step closer.”

“Wha? Why?!”

“Bad luck is all over you, and I will not have it be spread to me, nanodayo,” he explained as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Wait right here. I’ll look for a lucky charm to repel the bad luck for you, (y/n).”

Had his superstitiousness really been that bad?

Half an hour passed before Midorima fully “sanitized” you with some type of water with a spray bottle and gave you a “special plushie” to ward off other misfortunes.

“Did you give me a cute stuffed toy because you felt bad for me?” you cooed at him.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea, nanodayo!” he vehemently denied. “The horoscopes said that this particular item was lucky for your sign today.”

“That’s so cute!” you giggled at him nonetheless, and you were immediately met with denying grumbles and half-shouts.

“Say, are you really scared of those cats?” you curiously turned to him.

“I am not scared,” Midorima said matter-of-factly. “They simply do not bring favorable luck.”

“... Right,” you dryly replied, but you decided to change the subject. “Do you ever see yourself ever prepared against the ‘bad luck’ to the point where you’ll never bat an eye at seeing them again?”

“If I work hard and take every opportunity I can, I don’t see why fate won’t give me a favorable outcome regardless.”

“You didn’t notice my spooky ‘bat’ pun, Mido!” you pouted at him.

“Wh-Wha—Stop that—Oi! Don’t tug on me, nanodayo!”

“I’ll see you off to your own house first, so you don’t have to go through the bad luck atmosphere here any longer, okay?”

Meanwhile in your mind, you were concocting up some ideas on how to boost his luck stat for the month…

---------

“Miiiiiiiiidohh!!” you sprinted to catch up to Midorima the next day, noticing how your boyfriend was eyeing warily at whatever you had in your hand. He wordlessly stops and turns to face you.

“I…” you heaved for air. “... have your… lucky item!” You held out a conspicuous, plastic pumpkin bucket, obviously meant to be used for trick-or-treating. He immediately had his guard up the moment he heard rattling coming from said bucket, but he reluctantly peered into it when you made the point of shoving the tacky orange container to his face.

… It was literally all the stereotypical lucky items he’d see in cartoons.

“Horseshoe… plastic dice toys… talismans?” he frowned. “... why are these papers misshapen 7’s and 8’s?”

“Ah… ehehe…” you sheepishly replied. “I may have fibbed up the cutting part just a bit because I was rushing…”

Midorima squints harder to try to discern the rest of the chaotic collection.

A random rabbit’s foot? He would assume it was faux… dirty pennies… dreamcatchers… acorns? Is that a smashed 4-leafed clover??

“... You said you had a lucky item. Singular noun,” he narrowed his eyes. “I was not aware that you garnered such a collection of multiple things in such a short time, nanodayo… unless you had these for a while now.”

“Yeah! Good catch, Midomido!” you grinned. “But it is a lucky item. It’s the bucket!”

“... I’m leaving.”

“No! Midomido!—Hear me out, I swear!” You tugged on his sleeve in a panic, and he heaved a sigh in response but nonetheless stayed in his spot.

“Okay so, any item that you put into this bucket… becomes lucky!” you explained with utmost seriousness. “Since these items are already known to be lucky, if you let it sit in the bucket, they become even luckier!”

Where the hell did you get this logic from?

“It also serves as your lucky item storage, so you can easily rummage out your lucky item for the day with total ease! Not to mention if you somehow run out of lucky items, you can just put any item into the bucket and it’ll turn lucky! You should totally…”

You’re rambling at this point, and while Midorima still cannot comprehend your flimsy logic, his eyes trained onto your bubbly face and your shining eyes, noting your most adorable smile you’d have when you were passionate about something.

… Maybe if you cared that much about his odd habits and went through such a huge extent for his sake, maybe the bucket isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it’s lucky because you worked on this idea with love and care?

“Mido! Are you even listening?” you huffed. “Geez, I go through all of this for you and you won’t even listen! Hmpf!”

Midorima slipped out a small rare smile, and almost immediately, your angry face dissipated and was replaced by a faint blush.

“W-w-well, anyways!” you said. “Thank Takao too! He helped me put this bucket together last minute without letting out a single complaint!”

“Takao?”

“Oh! And one final, personal gift from me!” you said, ignoring his looks of confusion. You pulled something from your bag…

And it was a black-cat ear headband.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never, dummy!” you frowned. “I heard you say it many times during practice about how you have to know your enemies before you can defeat them!...

… What better way is there to know an enemy than to become them?”

Midorima’s smile was overtaken by the harshest frown you’ve seen in a while.

“This is Takao’s idea isn’t it?—where is he?”

“Nooooo! Midomido, come back! Let me put them on at least! Pretty please! Come on, put them on! I wanna hear you meow!—No, wait! Don’t leave me behind! I have so much fun plans for us on the actual day of Halloween! Don’t ruin the spirit, dummy!”

Needless to say, the real danger of his sanity (and his poor heart) was you.

Screw October—he has to learn how to be careful around your own devious tricks 24/7.

[hopekiedokie]

The Dreaded First Day of School (single dad!jimin)

SUMMARY: On his son’s first day of school, we learn that the badass, leather jacket wearer, and tattoo clad single dad might not be so tough after all. Or maybe, his soft little son isn’t as pure as he ought to be. (In short, Jimin’s baby is growing up and he’s not prepared for it.)

GENRE: fluff, humour, maybe angst if you squint hard enough

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

NOTES: So Jimin isn’t supposed to be a mean or awful dad here. He’s just still not totally equipped to be one even after five years now. This might become a mini series with Ms. Y/n being Haneul’s teacher in the future. Who knows? Also, the photo is not mine.

POSTED ON: 26th March, 2021

What the actual heck is this??

Jimin has seen a lot of crazy things in his life but this, whatever is happening in front of him, is something he truly cannot believe.

You see, today is his son's, Haneul, dreaded™ first day of school.

The kid was up until 3 in the morning, crying his eyes out. He kept begging Jimin to not let him go, saying things like “I’ve been a good boy.” or “I don’t know those people.” or “Please, daddy, I don’t want to go!”

Half of the time, Jimin didn’t even understand what he was saying because he was crying so much.

The worst part is that Jimin had half the mind to give in to all these excuses and to just let Haneul attend school next year.

Contrary to popular belief though, he’s not entirely an awful example of what a father should be. In general, yes, he’s done a lot of questionable things. But in particular, as a father, he does like allowing his son to eat whatever junk food he wants, watch whatever is on the tv, or letting him up way past his bedtime (as late as 4am).

BUT he still has a smidge of decency left in his being and he actually wants his son to grow up decent.

(Which for the most part, is going along fine since Haneul is probably one of the sweetest and softest kids he’s ever seen. How though? Jimin has no idea.)

So with tired eyes and barely 4 hours of sleep, he dragged his son to school.

Even during the drive, Haneul was still adamant about skipping school and all the while, he kept using his cute crying voice that ALWAYS turns Jimin into mush.

Not this time though.

“It’s gonna be okay. You’ll meet a lot of friends and you’ll play with them! It’s gonna be fun, I promise.” This is one of the many things he said to lift his son’s spirits up.

All his efforts are still not enough to pacify Haneul as the tiny boy kept throwing a tantrum. Jimin even had to carry him after getting out of the car and during the entire walk to the school gymnasium where the assembly is, Haneul held his arms tightly around his neck.

To be completely honest, Jimin thought that it would be embarrassing but actually, he found the entire thing quite endearing.

Maybe it’s the narcissistic prick inside him that’s talking but seeing and hearing his son say that he’d rather spend time with him makes him feel like perhaps he’s not so bad of a dad after all.

Which brings us to the present.

To reiterate, Jimin cannot believe what’s happening.

One moment, his son is clinging to him for his dear life, then in an instant, he watched him grow up right in front of him.

In the worst way possible.

Not to be dramatic, but it was like watching his entire life slip away from his grasp.

The beginning of the end started when Jimin pointed to these three boys and insisted Haneul to introduce himself.

Boy, oh boy, oh boy, BIG mistake on his behalf!

He probably should’ve pushed his son to the “nerdier” looking kids. That would’ve helped him in the long run, as well!

At first, he watched in awe from a far as Haneul progressively turned less tense and more comfortable with those boys. They started with cute small smiles but it quickly turned into wildly animated gestures while comparing their Paw Patrol themed trolley backpacks.

“That’s my boy! Already making friends and it’s only been 5 minutes.” Jimin proudly thought to himself.

Okay, maybe Haneul is going to be fine. All that crying thinking Jimin did the entire night was for nothing! His cute soft son can totally do this.

Now, Jimin’s life altering moment comes. The time to actually say goodbye is here.

A teacher announces that they’re taking the kids to their respective classrooms and even if they cry or make a huge fit about it, the parents or guardians should stay where they are. They should refrain from “babying” their child.

Alright, now’s the time for Haneul to cry again! There’s no way he doesn’t cry even just a tiny bit…....Right?

Jimin makes eye contact with Haneul and, without any second thoughts, proudly mouths “I love you” while pointing to him.

Normally, Haneul is quick to return the gesture. Heck, he even goes as far as drawing a huge heart with his tiny pointer fingers!

But today, he doesn’t do that. No no no no no!

Instead, Haneul discreetly looks around him to check if anyone is watching him then……….

He shakes his head towards his father then faces back to his new friends.

Gasp! What is this???

Jimin has never felt so betrayed in his entire life! Not to mention, by his OWN son too.

This irks him so much.

So much so that he stands and gets close to his son, opposing the teacher’s instruction of letting their kids be.

Bitch, no. He’s getting his “I love you” from his son no matter what.

As he walks towards Haneul, it’s apparent that the kid had somehow done a complete 180 from his mood 10 minutes ago.

How can this be? How is he suddenly so cold towards his own man?

When he finally gets to Haneul, he literally, no joke, had to call his name 4 times to get his attention. The actual audacity of this kid!

“Hey, Haneul. Daddy’s gotta go!” Jimin says with his world famous “no eyes” smile.

Haneul’s face drops.

Bingo!

This kid is about to get a huge reality check or so Jimin thinks he is.

He’s waiting for any signs of despair, a sniff or maybe some glassy eyes but nothing happens.

Come on, where are the water works?? Where are all the hugs and kisses???

Haneul is like (・-・) to Jimin.

O-okay…….

“...”

“...”

“...”

Nothing???

“There’s a lot of scary strangers here……”

Okay, so that was really mean for Jimin to say bUT HE ONLY WANTS TO SQUEEZE EVEN JUST A DROP OF AFFECTION FROM HIM. Sue him!

Haneul finally opens his mouth.

Jimin quietly anticipates his son to return to his warm and loving self that he still doesn’t quite know where he gets from...

“So what, daddy? I’m a big boy! I don’t need you.”

(´⊙ω��`)?！

Uhm exCusE mE, but W H A T??

Needless to say, that statement hurt Jimin like a buttcheek on a stick.

However, he’s not gonna break away from his badass persona in front of all these people, especially around these little shits that they call “children”. He has an ✨𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬✨ that he strictly abides to, people!

And frankly, he’s not gonna let his son walk all over him.

So without any word, Jimin leans down to give Haneul a kiss. If he’s not gonna receive any affection through words then fine! He’s gonna get it through a different way.

Jimin’s lips are almost in contact with Haneul’s plush cheeks. They are literally a hair away that Jimin can feel the heat emitting from it but all at once, that heat is gone.

You know why?

Because Haneul is quick to do that matrix shit where he bends his back to avoid his father’s lips.

Then he saunters away, leaving Jimin hanging.

(๑´⊙ ₃ ⊙`๑)

Jimin calls him a couple times but again, he did not look back.

S I G H

Alright, then. He doesn’t normally raise his voice towards his son (nor disciplines him tbh) but oh boy, oh boy! This kid is practically asking for it.

He doesn’t give a fuck if he’s five, no son of his is gonna be allowed to treat him like that!

“HANEUL! GET BACK HERE. NOW!”

Well, that got him looking back towards his father.

Jimin points in front of him to which Haneul begrudgingly complies after taking a peek from his new found friends.

Haneul hears the other boys snicker behind him as he trudges towards his slightly pissed father.

When he’s standing right where his father wants him, Jimin leans his cheek down again for him to kiss.

Now, the other boys are blatantly laughing at him.

Maaaaaaaan. He can’t be a laughing stock on his first day of school! He needs to be as cool as his daddy!

As Haneul contemplates his life choices, Jimin patiently waits for his kiss. There’s no way Haneul is gonna reject him for the third time in a row within a span of two minutes!

Within a few seconds, he feels Haneul’s lidol babie hand against his cheek.

O M G

How 😭 cute 😭 is 😭 this 😭 ??

This has got to be one the softest moments they have shared together. AND it’s in front of all these people!

Take that Namjoon hyung for saying I can’t be a gentle and tender loving father!

Jimin is about to place a hand over Haneul’s small one to caress it but then Haneul pushes his face away.

“Just go, daddy!”

Before Jimin is able to process what just transpired, Haneul is already strutting towards the other kids, feeling like a king or a boss for bitch-slapping his own father.

This little fUqer!!!

Who does he think he is to act like this towards Jimin iN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE??

This is what happens when he lets his son spend too much alone time with his Uncle Jungkook and Uncle Taehyung.

But to be fair, Haneul is still Jimin’s son at the end of the day so…..like, maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised??

Yet, still, he truly cannot believe it.

All it took was 5 minutes and a rowdy set of friends, then his kid has grown up.

He apparently “doesn’t need him” anymore, according to the kid.

To think that Jimin got up early to make him those cute bento boxes. He even specifically made them look like various pokemons that Haneul fancies!

Wow. Just. WOW.

Excuse him, but he’s just gonna get in his car and crank up “Slipping Through My Fingers” by ABBA while he ugly sobs.

[notquitecanon]

Steven Hyde being readers date to a wedding?

Did someone say FakeDate!Au?? No? Just me? Great, here I go!  

_________

4 Things Steven Hyde Agreed To & 1 He Didn’t

1.) Photos

“There’s not much you have to do, it’ll be really fun!” You promised after Hyde gave into your begging, “First, we’ll pose for photos together since I’m in the bridal party.”

Hyde begrudgingly tucked his shades into his suit pocket before wrapping an arm around your waist.  The hand on your hip made you blush, but you didn’t dare squirm away- this needed to look real so your family would stop playing matchmaker. Instead, you leaned closer into his touch as you grinned at the photographer.

After said photographer waved you on, you groaned in frustration as you readjusted the bridesmaid dress- which in your opinion? hideous. Frowning you looked to Hyde who was already slipping his sunglasses back on, “I hate this dress, literally no one could make this good.”

Hyde spared you a glance before looking away again, clearing his throat before murmuring, “You do.”

“Oh.”

2.) Convince the Family

“Tell my family we’re together so they’ll quit setting me up on terrible blind dates- and make it convincing.”

“So Steve,” Your Aunt smiled and you saw Hyde flinch at the misnomer, “Where’d you meet our (Y/N)?”

You tried to hide your nervousness- you hadn’t thought to create a backstory. Nevertheless, Steven took it in stride as he wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed you closer with a large smile that was almost unsettling on him- you wish he’d go back to his classic smirk or smug grin.

“It started when she transferred to Point Place, our friend Donna was the one to show her around- but I wasn’t actually at school that day, but later that afternoon- Donna brought her by to hang out.” He paused to throw you on an over-exaggerated smile before his expression softened, “Well, she basically fell through the door, laughing at something Donna said so hard that she doubled over. That’s when I knew I had to make her my girl.”

That was what happened the first time you met Hyde- he left out the part where you fell forward and your chest went straight into Fez’s chest. The boy was so delirious with excitement that he fainted on the spot. Fez still got flustered if you wore a V-neck. Hyde had told the story a million times, but never with that tone of voice or with that last part- obviously a lie for your act, but damn was he convincing. He left all your Auntie’s and cousins (and you) giggly as they continued quizzing him. Every question was answered with an eerily honest tone.

All you could do was stare up at him as you listened- your soft smile wasn’t act and neither were the butterflies.

3.) Dancing

“Dance a little, in front of the photographer specifically so I have photographic evidence to remind my family with.”

You almost forgot how good of a dancer Hyde was. And how good of an actor, apparently. Maybe it was the drinks the two of you had been sneaking from the open bar, maybe it was the music or his cologne, or maybe it was just how close he was holding you as he swayed and spun you- occasionally moving in front of the wedding photographer, just as you’d instructed him- but he was making it really easy to forget this was just an act.

As a Sinatra song faded out (which Hyde strangely knew every word of) an ABBA song began- I’ve Been Waiting For You, you recognized. Knowing his stance on Disco, you tried to step back with a smile, “I know how you feel about ABBA, so we can stop now.”

To your surprise, his grip on your waist stayed firm and his gaze soft, “No, no. I don’t mind. This is nice.”

“Oh,” You nodded in shock as you settled back into the swaying motion, head on his chest to hid the creeping blush on your cheeks as the chorus played through.  You thrill me, you delight me, you please me, you excite me, your something I’ve pleading for, I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you, I only want you more and more, And finally it seems, my lonely days are through, I’ve been waiting for you. “This is nice.”

And that’s how you stayed until the DJ packed up.

4.) Chauffeur

“And lastly, we leave together.”

Before hitting the dance floor, Hyde switched to coffee so he’d be good to drive- so when the DJ finally shut down the music, he escorted you to the car after the newlyweds had their send-off. Still the perfect gentleman, he draped his jacket over your shoulders and even letting you laugh at the magenta lipstick stain your grandmother had left on his cheek. 

After you’d slid into the El Camino, he shut the door behind you before settling into the driver's seat. Still giggling, you offered him a handful of napkins from the glove box- falling back into full laughter when he furiously scrubbed at the magenta lip mark (it didn’t even go away, just smudged the color around further). Rooting around in your purse, you victoriously produced a wet wipe which he snatched quickly.

“We never speak of this.” He warned as the stain slowly faded, tossing the trash in the back before cranking the car. The engine roared to life, almost drowning out your laughter as he stared at you expectantly. 

“Fine, fine.” You giggled, offering your pinky. Steven shook it with such seriousness before finally pulling out of the venue’s lot. Besides the Pink Floyd playing in the background, the ride was comfortably silent until he pulled onto a highway. Looking over to him, you offered a sweet smile, “Thanks again for doing this- I know it was kind of ridiculous. But I actually had a really enjoyed myself.”

“Don’t mention it. Open bar, free food, only one ABBA song, and a chance to lie to multiple adults.” He smirked, eyes on the road as they turned mischievous, “Besides, no need to thank me. Your gran showed me your baby pictures that she keeps in her purse. Thanks is good for the night, baby picture blackmail is good forever.” 

Playfully, you smacked his shoulder while he laughed at your embarrassment, “Steven, your cheek is still stained magenta, and I will tell Kelso you can sing Sinatra.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, and you sighed as you settled back into your seat. There was a pause before you looked over to him, he was staring back- near immediately dissolving into a fit of giggles while he just chuckled putting his attention back on the road. Clearing your throat, “Blackmail or not, I really appreciate you wasting your Saturday night to go to a lame wedding with me.”

“I didn’t waste my Saturday. Being there with you- wasn’t terrible. There were parts that I’d even say I was having a good time.” He admitted a small smile as he looked over to you before continuing, “Besides, my other options were sitting in the basement with Kelso, Jackie, and Fez- and Fez just found out about threeways.” 

You laughed and nodded, a weird sense of pride that he’d had a good time on your fake date. 

5.) Unplanned

“And then once you drop me off, the minute I’m out of the car, we can forget it ever happened. Sound good?” You asked. Hyde shook his head, puffing up to argue before catching a glimpse of the flash of disappointment.

“...Fine.”

The rest of the drive home was wonderful- the two of you laughed until your sides hurt, stopped at a 24-hour diner for fries, pie, and a milkshake, and narrowly avoided a speeding ticket. But the night was quickly coming to an end as the Camino rolled onto your street. Chewing your lip, you looked to Steven, “Let’s make a block.”

He seemed to catch your drift, rolling past your house and back onto the main road. Making a block turned into another bout of just driving around- laughing about everything, talking about everything, and even just singing along to whatever music Steven would put on. This lasted until you could barely keep your eyes open and even Hyde was yawning between sentences. When your head slumped against the window, that’s when he shook his head, “Alright, time for home.”

He continued through your protests, “Yeah if I get pulled over with unconscious teenager in a formal dress on dark backroads- they’ll call me a cult leader. And the last thing I need is the cops paying more attention to me.”

Sighing, you nodded- giggling at the thought of Hyde starting a cult, good lord they’d smoke so much weed. Nevertheless, you decided to test the waters by letting your head fall to his shoulder. He tensed before relaxing, but didn’t say anything or shake you off. Content, that’s how you stayed for the rest of the ride.  

Shortly thereafter, the engine hummed as Hyde put it in park in your driveway. He moved to get out to open the door for you, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and stopped him. 

Hyde’s eyes flicked between your eyes and the grip you had on the sleeve of his shirt, waiting expectantly as you just stared back lamely while chewing your lip, finally, you stammered out, “Still in the car, nights not over yet.”

“Yeah, that was the deal…” He nodded slowly, settling back into the driver's seat as he watched you curiously, wondering what you’d do next- you weren’t sure yourself, but you had a few ideas. 

“Well, that means, for the moment, you’re still my boyfriend for the moment.” You stated, taking a short breath while your eyes flicked to his lips, “So…”

Before you could chicken out, you rushed forward, pulling him to you by his shirt collar. He was shocked at first but reacted rather quickly to your lips on his. Tentatively, his hand cupped your cheek and the other rested on your thigh while you kept your hands on his chest. The kiss was exploratory, slow and curious and sweet- you could taste the mint on him from his ever-present chewing gum and he could still taste the salt on your lips from the fries earlier in the night. After a minute, you realized you needed to explain yourself- or at least come up with an excuse that could salvage your friendship if need be- so you pulled away, “I know that wasn’t part of the deal, but I really didn’t want this night to end.”

He didn’t answer, breath still heavy as he stared at your lips, eyebrows furrowed. You interpreted his silence as a sign that you crossed a line so with a rushed, whispered apology you fled the car before anything else could be said or done. It wasn’t until the passenger door slammed shut that Steven snapped back to reality; realizing his pause probably sent the wrong signal he cursed under his breath as he scrambled out after you, “(Y/N), wa-“

Arms crossed tightly over your chest, you swiftly interrupted him to save yourself from embarrassment, “Hyde, we don’t have to do this.”

You emphasized “this” by gesturing back and forth between the two of you before continuing while Hyde, “You did everything I asked, and now you’ve dropped me off, which according to the deal means you don’t have to pretend to like me-“

Hyde stepped forwards drawing out your sentence, but it didn’t stop you from finishing, creating an odd cacophony of words. 

“We can just forget this whole fake date and everything that happened.”

“Can we just forget about the stupid deal for a second?!” 

He did that thing where he made his voice harsh just to command attention, it always worked. The “master of zen” rarely raised his voice (unless it was to yell at Kelso and Fez), so his raised voice always turned heads. In fact, his harsh tone stopped you dead in your tracks in your march towards your front door. Forget about the deal- did that mean…?

After you’d frozen, he easily caught up to you, fingers barely brushing yours, “What if I don’t want to forget?”

He watched your expression very carefully as he continued, “The only thing I was pretending was that I was faking it.. well and I pretended to list to your uncle, but that was- never mind-“

“No one could make this look go.” “You do.”

“That’s when I knew I had to make her my girl.”

“No, no, I don’t mind, this is nice.” 

“Being there with you wasn’t terrible.” 

Reaching up, Steven tenderly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, “(Y/N), I didn’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend when you asked me because I’ve liked you since the day I met you.”

Butterflies had turned to the whole zoo as you just dumbly nodded up to him, cheeks so hot you were sure they were glowing, with nothing better to say you just muttered, “Then I guess tonight doesn’t have to be a fake date then.”

“Guess not, doll.” He smirked, “And as your real boyfriend, I reserve the right to do this.”

Without further warning, he raised your chin and leaned down, kissing you again. This time it was more confident, assured and lasted until your porch light flicked on- the silent sign that your dad was watching and expected you to be inside within the next minute. Hyde understood this too, and let you pull away, watching you enter your house. 

Right before you walked in he called after you, “And if anyone asks- I kissed you first!”

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 25 (Finale) || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: This series has been the most fun thing to write ever and I’m so grateful to everyone that has joined me on this journey. I really really really hope you like how I decided to wrap this chapter of their lives and I hope you’ll join me in the sequel to explore more adventures. I love you all and can’t wait to hear the screams that I’m certain are soon to follow this post. 

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2,199 [Series total: ~74.8k]

~~~~~~~~

A Look-back at how we started:

“Sara’s pregnant.”

No sentence had ever made you feel anger, fear, disbelief, sadness and a whole bevy of other emotions quite as quickly as that one did. You wanted to scream and you wanted to cry. Instead, you put a mask over your expressions and just took the glass of wine Laura was offering as she filled hers to the brim.

“What?” You whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

“Cale called me today…he was so obviously nervous and before I could even ask what was wrong he was rambling on about how she was pregnant and he didn’t know what to do…” You could see the disappointment on Laura’s face and you attempted to send her a reassuring smile, though you were sure she noticed how forced it seemed. Swirling your wine in your glass, you thought about all of the reasons this news bothered you, making you almost sick to your stomach.

Now onto the finale: 

“Y/N’s pregnant.” 

Leaning against the doorway to your shared bedroom, you felt a smile spread across your face as your boyfriend spilled the news out of frustration, a response to his mother’s unnecessary concern. 

“What?” Laura whispered, her voice cracking. The expression on her face was one of shock and awe as she just stared at Cale. Shivering as a chill ran up your spine, you turned to adjust the thermostat, cranking up the heat to ward off the mid-November chill. 

++

Cale’s parents had arrived in Denver yesterday afternoon and though you’d had dinner with them, neither you nor Cale were sure whether or how to share everything that had changed since you’d seen them last. You’d mentioned that the two of you were thinking about buying a house here which had been met with some confusion but otherwise you kept things fairly light conversation wise. A part of you had expected Laura to question you not drinking, but when she hadn’t said anything you assumed she hadn’t picked up on it at all. 

When you’d crawled into bed last night, you and Cale had still been undecided on whether to share the news yet but when you woke up this morning, it seemed like hiding probably wasn’t going to be an option. Of course, though you rarely experienced morning sickness, today of all days it had to hit you like a truck. Cale had been the doting father-to-be that he always was, holding your hair back and massaging your lower back gently. When the nausea didn’t begin to ebb like it normally did, he’d called your coworker to move all of your appointments for the day before settling you back into bed with some tea, crackers, and a wastebasket. Only with your insistence that you would be fine did he head off to practice, leaving you to doze off again. 

You’d woken up a couple hours later to Cale perched on the side of the bed, his fingers dragging lightly over your stomach. 

“You feeling any better?” He’d questioned, concern flickering across his face. “Think maybe you could use something to eat?” 

Stretching, you sat up just a little, testing out how your stomach would react to the movement. It didn’t twist or turn like it had earlier and you let out a breath of relief, reaching out to pull Cale into a quick kiss. 

“Heat me up some of the leftover soup from the freezer?” You requested. You knew Laura and Gary were coming over to spend the afternoon with the two of you, but you were fairly certain that your stomach would be unable to handle whatever lunch they brought. 

“Course sweetheart.” Cale agreed, leaving you to slowly make your way up and out of bed. 

The minute she’d walked through the door, you heard Laura question Cale about why he was cooking when he knew that they were bringing lunch. 

“Because Y/N wants soup.” Cale replied, pulling the defrosted soup from the microwave so that he could dump it into a pot to finish warming. 

Laura had expressed her confusion stating that you and Cale had both known that they were bringing one of your favorites. 

“Mom...she wasn’t feeling well this morning okay.” He sighed. “Soup is easy on the stomach, that is not.” 

“Is she sick? Cale why didn’t you tell us? If she’s not feeling well we can go find something else to do.” Laura had pressed. 

“She’s fine now.” Cale replied, his voice gaining a little bit of an edge that signaled his annoyance. 

“Seriously Cale, if Y/N isn’t feeling well she should be resting, not having to worry about entertaining us.” Laura continued. 

“Mom. Relax.” Cale declared. Immediately Laura started speaking again and the next words out of his mouth were the ones you’d been hiding. 

++

With the silence starting to become uncomfortable in the kitchen, you made your way out from your spot in the doorway, nestling up to Cale’s side as he stared at his mom. Your sudden presence seemed to startle Laura and Gary and they ran their eyes back and forth between you and their son. 

“You’re pregnant?” Laura questioned, tears welling in her eyes. Nodding, you took a step back to pull the ultrasound photos out from the magnet on the side of the fridge. Setting them down in front of her, you pecked Cale’s cheek, before turning to adjust the temperature on your soup so that it didn’t burn. 

“How do you feel about being a grandma?” You questioned after a moment, laughing as she launched herself around the kitchen island, pulling you into a hug. 

“You’re pregnant. You’re really pregnant.” She choked out in disbelief. 

“Yeah mom. I’m pregnant.” You stated. 

“Oh my lord.” Laura breathed and when she pulled away you could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. “This wasn’t planned was it?” She questioned, her slight confusion returning. 

“No, it wasn’t planned.” Cale voiced from behind you. 

“But you’re happy?” She confirmed, looking past you to her son. 

“We’re so happy.” Cale assured her. “Best surprise ever.” 

The way he looked at you sent you back to the night he was referring to a month ago. 

++

Cale had been away on one of the first roadtrips of the season when you’d found out the news. 

With moving and then trying to get settled in in your new home, you’d forgotten you were due for your birth control shot. Finding a local clinic, you made an appointment to go down and get it taken care of. You’d submitted to the requested urine test not thinking anything of it. It wasn’t until a nurse came into your room informing you that they couldn’t give you the shot that anything at all seemed out of place. 

“Wait...what do you mean? Why can’t you give me the shot?” You remembered asking. 

When she’d explained that she couldn’t give you the shot because you were pregnant, your jaw had dropped, your hand drifting down to your stomach. And though you didn’t think they had lied, you took the paperwork the nurse offered you before rushing to the nearest pharmacy where you’d purchased three different pregnancy tests. 

An hour later you were sitting on the bathroom floor staring at various phrases or symbols all signalling that you were definitely expecting - ‘3+ weeks’ one test in particular read. 

You knew you couldn’t be much further along than that, you’d gotten your period shortly after arriving in Denver. You were certain of that because you’d forgotten to pack anything and Cale had had to run to the store on his way home from camp. 

Though your initial reaction beyond disbelief was joy, you were worried about how Cale would take the news. You’d only been together for 5 months and while he’d expressed that he’d be open to having kids if the situation was right...you just didn’t know. 

It had taken you almost 24 hours to come to the conclusion that you just had to trust that Cale would be as happy as you were. This baby was part of both of you and it wasn’t like things between you were anything but good. Knowing that Cale would be home the following night, you set to work on figuring out how to tell him. Heading out to the store you found a retro looking Avalanche sleeper. You’d stopped into a second hand book store while you were out, looking more for something for you to read than anything else but you’d stumbled upon the children’s book ‘goodnight hockey’ and it seemed like the perfect addition to the little package you were putting together. 

Wrapping up the sleeper and book with one of the pregnancy tests, you sat down trying to think about what you wanted to say to Cale with the card. It had come to you as you were going to bed and after writing it down, you tucked the card back into the envelope writing Cale’s name on the front. 

The next day was the longest wait of your life but you were determined to tell Cale when he got home, the secret you’d been hiding for two days already eating at you. It was late...really late and you’d moved from the couch to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate when you heard Cale’s key in the door. 

As he stumbled into the kitchen he seemed surprised that you were still awake, but he’d leaned in to kiss you quickly. Only then did he notice the package on the counter, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it. 

“What’s that?” He questioned, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of the barstool. 

“A present. For you.” You murmured softly, sending him a sneaky smile as you poured boiling water into your mug on the counter. 

“My birthday isn’t for two weeks sweetheart...can’t it wait?” He asked, leaning against the counter. 

“No, it can’t.” You insisted. “Open it now.” Cale eyed you for a minute before immediately reaching for the wrapping paper, causing you to glare at him in disbelief. 

“Who taught you how to open presents?” You exclaimed. “Open the card first…” Cale rolled his eyes playfully before grabbing the card off the front of the box, slipping the little note card out of the envelope. 

Daddy hopes I get mommy’s giggles, 

Mommy hopes I get daddy’s rosy cheeks, 

No matter what I’m going to be perfect, 

You’ll see for yourself in about 36 weeks. 

You watched as his eyes glazed over, his brain struggling to process given the late hour. Setting the card aside, he tore into the paper on the box frantically, pulling the lid off to reveal all of the goodies tucked inside. You watched, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, as Cale bypassed the pregnancy test instead pulling the sleeper from the box. Just as quickly though, he reached back inside, his jaw dropping as the stick with the word ‘pregnant’ stared back at him. 

“We’re having a baby?” The words spilled from his lips as tears rolled down his cheeks. “You’re serious?”

“I’m pregnant Cale.” You confirmed. “You’re gonna be a dad.” Closing the few steps between you, Cale wrapped his arms around you, spinning you once before burying his head into your neck. 

“I can’t…” He mumbled into your skin. “You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You insisted. “3 home pregnancy tests and a clinic test all confirm.” Although Cale seemed happy, his lack of an official reaction was starting to worry you slightly. When he kissed you though, you took that as a good sign, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“Please tell me you’re okay with this…” You whispered, shifting your fingers to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “...because I know this wasn’t planned and it happened sooner than I think we were expecting…” 

“We’re having a baby.” Cale repeated, his tone awestruck. “Fuck sweetheart...of course I’m okay with this.” He breathed, shaking his head as if to pull him out of the daze he was in. “You’re having my baby.” He stated, his grin growing. “I’m shocked but...good shocked.” Kissing you again gently, Cale pulled back and immediately dropped to his knees, his hands sliding across your lower stomach. 

This was the kind of reaction you’d hoped for, better than you’d hoped for even, and you felt your own tears fall as Cale nuzzled against your stomach, kissing gently over the skin there through your shirt. 

“Baby says happy early birthday daddy.” You whispered, staring down at him. 

++ 

You’d spent the rest of that night talking about your surprise blessing, Cale’s palm never leaving your stomach. It had been perfect, just perfect. 

“Oh this is so wonderful.” Laura exclaimed. “How far along are you?” She pressed, her eyes drifting down to your where your baby bump would soon be growing. 

“8 weeks.” You replied. “So still very early but the doctor says everything looks good. We’re due mid-june.” You explained, laughing as Laura expressed her happiness by bouncing up and down. 

She hugged you again before moving to wrap Cale in her arms, the two of them whispering to each other, smiles on their faces. With his wife having expressed her excitement, Gary slid around the counter and pulled you into a hug as well. 

“Congratulations. Can’t wait to meet my grandbaby.” He expressed, squeezing you a second time before moving to pat Cale on the back. You knew Cale needed this moment with his parents, so you turned your attention to the pot of soup bubbling away on the stovetop. 

This year has been full of so many secrets: the disaster around Cale’s pregnancy scare with Sara, your exchanged feelings in March, dating for two months without anyone knowing, moving to Denver, and now the fact that your little family is growing. 

And though the baby was going to remain a secret to some people for a little while longer, one thing was absolutely not a secret: you were in love with your best friend and he was in love with you. Your journey together was only just beginning. 

Cale’s early birthday present: