#late night chats with choco
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I was reading through the tv tropes page for tpodg and one of them was that Basil was not aware that he was gay until he met Dorian, which is laughable, but then I thought about what Basil says in his gay little speech in chapter one.
He definitely describes his gay panic, but notably, he repeatedly insists on not knowing why Dorian has such an effect on him—in the novella ver he even says that he has never let someone else influence his life in the way he was willing to let Dorian do. Which I think points to one specific thing:
Basil was never into twinks until Dorian. His gay panic isn’t just because Dorian is beautiful, but because men like him aren’t his usual type. More likely, he was into men like Henry, despite never letting them influence him (so he claims).
Which brings in the fact that unlike Henry, Dorian is easy for Basil to worship through objectification; he can easily, guiltlessly worship Dorian as art which he cannot do with Henry. To worship Henry (even through art) is 1)fucked, 2)admitting to things he isn’t ready to admit to, 3)fucked. Dorian is pure where Henry is sordid. Dorian is naive where Henry is corruptive. Dorian is safe, Henry is not.
So Basil, in his societally imposed cowardice, chooses a man he thinks is not like Henry, only to be pointedly made aware that his taste in men is shit, regardless of their twink status.
smh he should’ve just gotten a cat/hj
#late night chats with choco#This is half joke and half serious analysis#i’m so tired lol#the picture of dorian gray#basil hallward#lord henry wotton#dorian gray#Basil x therapy and actual supportive friends is OTP i decided/hj#Get this man away from his asshole love interests lmao
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in a high school/anime slice of life au, what would the ros do for valentines day? and i don't mean what would they do for a date, i mean who's making homemade chocolates for their crush and confessing on the day of, who's ignoring the whole thing, who's returning the favor on white day??
Ooh, interesting question!
(For those not familiar, in Japan (and therefore in slice-of-life anime), Valentine's Day is typically when girls give chocolate/sweets either as giri chocolate (obligation/courtesy gifts) or honmei (gifts intended to be received as a romantic gesture), and on White Day one month later, boys are supposed to repay or return the gifts they received on Valentine's Day back to the girls, sometimes with the thought that their 'return gift' should be 2-3x the value of the original.)
As for how the characters would react if they were in this kind of slice-of-life high school anime AU...
Blade: he would be so indifferent to these holidays lol I'm not even completely sure he would be aware they existed? He'd certainly reject any gifts he received from people he didn't know, and he'd "return" the gesture on White Day with the absolute bare minimum (like a little store-bought bag of chocolates) because his mom forced him to or something
Trouble: "oh damn, I love chocolate! Thanks!" :D
*completely oblivious that this gesture could be anything but friendly, inadvertently and ruthlessly crushing the hopes of several admirers*
He'd attempt to bake his own chocolates at home for White Day, but they'd end up looking so nasty and mutilated-looking, like
They'd actually taste decent, though!!
Tallys: she would bake elegant little cookies or brownies purely as courtesy or giri gifts for all of her friends, of all genders, but she might secretly slip in something special (like a heart-shaped cookie) into the bag of the person she secretly had a crush on! No one would ever know, though!
Shery: she would make the CUTEST cookies and chocolates in little pastel-wrapped baggies for all of her girlfriends 🥹 She'll give some to the boys too, but it's more like a "oh I just had so many left over, please enjoy 🥰" because it's the female friendships in high school she'd treasure the most, and she wouldn't want any boys to get the wrong idea!! These gifts would be so perfect that they'd be the envy of all who saw them!
Riel: he wouldn't pay any attention to the holiday whatsoever (until he got a box of chocolates from some hopeful first-year and brutally rejected them out-of-hand so as not to waste anyone's time...) He gives off an intimidating aura, but would actually really appreciate receiving little candies and sweets and things as giri choco from people like Tallys or Shery because he LOVES sugar, so he would use these as fuel for his late-night cram sessions! 👓 For White Day, he'd buy them expensive, thoughtfully-chosen white-gold jewelry, because Riel Syndran ALWAYS surpasses expectations!!! If you give him a gift he'll return it six-fold, not just two or three times in value!!!
Chase: realistically, he'd probably be swamped with gifts on Valentine's Day and bombarded with all kinds of confessions, and he'd probably indiscriminately accept each and every one of them with a big grin and an easygoing demeanor that would just make more and more people feel like it's safe to confess to him because he seems so receptive to it! Realistically, though, he could be ambling down the hall loaded up with flowers and chocolate and see someone like crying in a nook because they got rejected (like by Blade or Riel lol), and he'd stop to have a chat with them and would probably hand them a bouquet of flowers, like "Here, I don't need it! Cheer up!" --Inadvertently winning himself yet another heart. I think he would sincerely appreciate and enjoy the gestures, but the materials themselves wouldn't, like, mean anything to him specifically, if that makes any sense. Ironically he'd probably treasure even giri chocolate from close friends way more than romantic honmei from near-strangers, and his reaction to the gifts from friends would be markedly different and more excitable (usually for trolling purposes, but also sincere enthusiasm). Like getting chocolate from a random admirer would be like "Oh, thanks so much, I appreciate it! :)" whereas getting some chocolate from Briony or Trouble or Blade would be really dramatic and embarrassing, like "REALLY??? YOU MADE THIS FOR ME??? 🥹🥹 I DIDN'T KNOW YOU LOVED ME SO MUCH 🥹🥹 Ahhhh I knew you had a soft spot for me~~~ I'm so happy right now~~~ 🥰❤️"
For White Day, I feel like he'd just pretend he "forgot" about the holiday to dodge having to show favoritism to any one admirer/suitor, lol, so none of his romantic pursuers would get anything--but somehow he'd get away with it due to his 'lovable scamp' reputation! He'd probably treat his friends to dinner or something to repay them for their giri chocolate, though!
Red: Like Chase, he would politely accept each and every Valentine's Day gift offered to him, regardless of its implicit meaning, which inevitably would lead to all sorts of messy romantic entanglements and misunderstandings that Pan and Neon would give him hell over. "Why the hell did you accept chocolate from that girl if she said she likes you??" "Well, she made it herself, it seemed rude to just reject it..." "BUT NOW SHE THINKS YOU'RE DATING, AND SO DOES THE OTHER ONE WHO GAVE YOU CHOCOLATE" "yeah I'll probably have to clarify at some point..." "SOME POINT"
He's very conscientious about returning the gesture on White Day, though he tries to be as "neutral" about it as possible (i.e. getting everyone the same generic gift en masse) so as to avoid the situations he got himself into last month! (coward)
Ayla: YAWN, Valentine's Day is just a capitalist holiday designed to sell candy and sugar!! She's not the biggest fan of sweets, so she's whatever about this holiday and White Day. You're definitely not going to catch her dead preparing or giving anyone stupid chocolates... What a waste of time!! So cringey!!
But she is curiously a bit more clingy towards her gal pals on this day and is like "can't we just go to dinner/have a sleepover, just us, and forget about all this? 😒"--leading to some to suspect that it all might make her feel a bit insecure, worrying that her precious friends are going to get into relationships or fall in love or receive admirer's chocolate and and leave her behind!!
Briony: THIS IS HER FAVORITE THING EVER, she's so excited about this holiday!!! She might be the only one in the entire group who would consider using Valentine's Day as a way of expressing her feelings or confessing her crush to the object of her affections by making them a special gift... it would look a good deal shabbier and more homemade than Shery or Tallys or Lavinet's offerings--she couldn't temper the chocolate to make it shiny, so it looks a bit dull and claggy--but the heart is definitely there!! Whether or not she actually has a crush on anyone, though, she's going to go all-out and make as many gifts for her friends and classmates to show her appreciation and love towards them as well! She'd be the classroom's little Valentine's Day fairy, floating around and trying to spread Valentine's cheer!
"Riel, aren't you going to wear a heart pin on your lapel, the class rep passed them out so we could celebrate--"
"No"
"But--"
"Purposefully make a hole in my blazer? Are you insane? The colors don't even match"
"But it's Valentine's Day! 🥺"
Lavinet: huhuhu, this holiday is her time to bask in the attention, because she inevitably gets a lot of gifts and chocolates from admirers every year! 😎 However, she'll only buy expensive, elegant chocolates for her friends (she won't make them herself) and then she'll wait and see what the object of her affection does on that day. She doesn't want to chase too hard or obviously!!! If the crush does something nice for her (even though Valentine's Day is traditionally when she should offer a gift), then she might whip out a very sleek, wrapped gift and carelessly say something like, "I saw this and thought of you! (AKA Don't read too much into it!)" But, of course, him being the only person to receive such a gift from her would be a sign in and of itself...
If he doesn't do anything worthy of her gift that day, she keeps it for herself and eats it without ever telling anyone it existed in the first place LOL
Halek: he probably skips school that day because he overslept and just decided the day was a lost cause, so he successfully dodges both Valentine's Day and White Day. 😂 If he doesn't, he makes the most badass, haute-couture, gastro-molecular confections and treats, is eager to show them off to as many of his friends and classmates as possible, then overthinks it because someone (Naolin) is like "Are you sure you want to give that to so-and-so, the level of attention and detail you put into that might give them the wrong idea of your intentions..." So then he ends up only giving it to, like, Trouble, who as the safest option is like "DUDE THIS IS SICK" and then scarfs it down without appreciating the artistry of it 😭😭 Meanwhile Chase is still like "do... do you have a crush on Trouble??" Red: "yeah there were gelee pearls on top of that handmade profiterole, he definitely does"
#Shepherds of Haven#Valentine's Day#White Day#AU#modern AU#high school AU#anime AU#slice-of-life AU#slice of life AU#slice of life#all characters
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Late night posting bc why not
Hope you enjoy!!
Inspired by a Mha animation I've seen, I wanted to make this skit.
Link: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/aAOx-sBpL98
Setting: Creme Republic. All in Photo are hanging out at Clotted Cream's house in the living room.
Caramel Arrow, Princess, and Raspberry: *chatting*
Espresso: *reading a book on the Coffee Tribe*
Clover: *playing his lute*
Clotted Cream: *laying his head on Clover's shoulder, smiles*
Financier and Madeleine: *friendly sparring*
Wildberry: *cuddling with Crunchy Chip, laying on the Cream Wolf*
Red Velvet and Dark Choco: *arm wrestling*
Black Raisin: *taking a nap in a chair*
-------------
Dark Choco: *beats Red Velvet* Hah!! I win!!
Red Velvet: Rematch!!
Clover: You guys did a rematch 3 times now. Choco won.
Dark Choco: Told you!!
*soon enough the sound of footsteps could be heard*
Knight: *runs in from the hallway* Guys!!
*everyone stops to look at him*
Clotted Cream: * sits and speaks up* What's up, Knight?
Knight: Elder Custard got done with his meeting early and is coming. NOW.
*everyone looks at each other*
All: ..........
All: *runs to the nearest balcony* GO!!!
Everyone jumps out of the balcony, with whatever they brought with them.
Dark Choco and Red Velvet: *leaps off the balcony*
Princess: *jumps down with Knight and Raspberry in her arms*
Crunchy Chip: *he and Wildberry ride off on Chip's Cream Wolf*
Espresso: *flies away with Coffee Magic*
Caramel Arrow: *shoots an arrow with rope attached, swings away*
Black Raisin: *follows with her crows*
Clover: *summons a vine bridge, slides down* *follows by Financier and Clotted Cream*
Madeleine: *cuts the vine bridge down with his sword as he follows*
-------------------------
Elder Custard: walks in and looks around the room* *room was empty with no mess*
Elder Custard: *growls* I was told that idiotic boy and his so called friends was here...
#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#clotted cream cookie#clover cookie#princess cookie#knight cookie#crunchy chip cookie#wildberry cookie#financier cookie#madeleine cookie#caramel arrow cookie#black raisin cookie#espresso cookie#red velvet cookie#dark choco cookie#raspberry cookie#elder custard cookie
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Hehe alright! I'll answer for option A in this ask, and then send in a second for D because I have a LOT to say about characters lol
But okay, how 3rd Life happened in the AU, what is the same as canon, and what changed?
For our first major change, only 3L happened. This is because one does not trap a cookie with the power of space itself against their will. But that doesn't matter in the long run <3
Basically, the Watchers work pretty simluar to Martyn's lore! Beings that feed on negative emotions and like picking on specific people for petty reasons. Eye Cookie had started to realize that 'hey, we can technically trap a bunch of cookies and feed on them if we change reality a bit.' and the other Watchers were just sorta like 'alright, we're hungry so get working on it'
Void Starling and Parrot Ice Cream were both easy targets, as neither of them had any life outside the Watcher's grasps (will explain in the next ask), and the other 12 cookies were fairly easy to weed out. All they had to do was find cookies down on their luck, that nobody would realize were missing.
And so, the games started.
I'm leaving the three lives rule, because is it 3L without that? as well as the 'no helmets' rule, and the 'reds are hostile' rule.
Session 1 stays mostly the same. The mobs are different, to fit in with the crk universe. I'd say it was one of those weird walking poison mushrooms that killed Magic Cat Cookie (Scar) instead of a creeper. Uhhh honestly yeah that's it. Oh the Tree-TSD thing still happens, it's just more of Moss Phantom Cookie (Bdubs) forgot that he could make plants grow and started growing a tree on top of Zombie Queen Cookie (Cleo). As well as that, Voidling/Etho's dark oak still gets burned.
Oh, one change for everything is that the game took place over about a year! As well as that, it worked in a more realistic manner, so the buildings didn't just appear overnight.
Session 2... honestly I forget what happened here lol. Uhhh I guess just think that bases are being built, cookies are chatting and making friends, life is good! Uhhh yeah Pizza still exists. Why not lol
Session 3 is when Dare to Flare was being created! I don't know how Firebird Cookie (Tango) got his hands on lava just roll with it. It's funny and weirder things happen in crk. Also now the first red exists! Since Hermitcraft doesn't exist in this AU (causes far too many plot holes), Magic Cat is seen as a MUCH bigger threat by Choco Wolf and Lost Apple
Session 4: Cakewarts is founded!! Voidling, Red Angel, Shattered Soul Crystal, and Lost Apple are brought in by Choco Wolf to join the army! I changed it so that they all join at the same time for fun. and also because it means that I can give Shattered Soul Crystal more time with the others!!
Yes the alter scene still happens
Honestly I do not have the patience to type out things session by session because my hands are tired and also I don't wanna hit character limit AGAIN so uhhh here's a list of everything I can think of:
Firebird and Clay Flower Cookie (Joel) never joined Cakewarts
Yellow Demon (Impulse) did still join though. yes he still took out Voidling
Instead of rigging the desert with TNT, Parrot Ice Cream just made plain old bombs
Shattered Soul Crystal wasn't in session 7 because he was kinda sick due to the way his magic works
Flower Husbands happy ending was just a dream by Frost Flower Cookie (Scott)
The first siege of the Crastle (w/ Etho making tnt missiles) unforuntally didn't happen
Parrot Ice Cream felt guilty about starting all of the mess and tried to meet with Cakewarts to try and reach a truce. This didn't work
After each cookie was killed, the Watchers took their bodies to feast on their emotions. They were brought back to life when this happened, just sleeping.
Ummmmm honestly I can't think of much more things for this. I'll get to explaining every character I can tomorrow because it's late and I can't stay up past late every single night and still wake up early each morning lol
oh frost flower :(((
super excited to hear more about this au!!!! take your time with the stuff about character tho, dont wanna burn you out
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hey it’s october!! i’m gonna be trying to do writetober so stay tuned!! i’ll also be posting a late birthday fic for dark choco so stay tuned for that as well :}, also it’s technically october 2nd now but i started this on the 1st so it still counts + sorry if this isn’t the best, i kinda rushed on it (help me it’s 11:58 and i’m just now posting this crying rn)
🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃🪴🎃
the dead leaves crunched on the ground as you wandered around the pumpkin patch, or…what seemed like a pumpkin patch? there weren’t any signs that stated it exactly was a pumpkin patch. but there were pumpkins everywhere, and you did walk like an hour to get here; so you weren’t leaving without a pumpkin. crouching down to get a better look at the pumpkins, you noticed how well the pumpkins were taken care of. they were pretty much the most perfect pumpkins you’ve ever seen. ‘who could’ve planted these?’ you thought to yourself. suddenly, you heard leaves crunching nearby. since it was night, your only instinct was to jump up and go hide somewhere. the crunching could’ve been an animal, but to stay safe, you just hid behind a tree.
“i hope clover cookie’s animal friends didn’t get into my pumpkins again…” you heard a voice sigh. you popped your head from behind the tree to see where the voice was coming from. you saw a stranger searching through the pumpkin patch, and he had a flashlight. you shuffled back to your original spot behind the tree, hoping the stranger wouldn’t find you. but alas, it was fall. so every time you moved, the leaves coating the grass would crunch. the flashlight that the stranger was holding shined in your direction. your heart started to beat at a really fast pace, you were scared and didn’t know what to do. you just froze and stood there. the footsteps of the stranger drew closer until…
“ah..hello…?” you looked down at the stranger, and he looked back at you. he was…a lot shorter than he looked from far away. however, you were still scared. you didn’t want to get your ass kicked for trespassing. you expected him to scold you for trespassing or something, but instead, he sounded a bit concerned, “are you alright? it’s chilly out here and you don’t have a sweater on.” you really weren’t expecting this stranger to have such concern for you. you cleared your throat before speaking, “uhm..i’m fine, thank you.”
“you can come inside my cottage for a bit, it’s late at night and chilly, no cookie should be out here,” the stranger offered. well, it was pretty chilly. and he was allowing you to come into his home, it felt cruel to decline such an offer. after thinking for a few seconds, you nod your head. “alright! follow me,” the stranger started to walk towards his cottage, beckoning you to follow. you noticed how careful the stranger was around any plant, he made sure not to step on anything, even a small flower. strange, he’s just very passionate about plants, you assume.
when you arrive at the cottage, you admire the structure of it; long strands of ivy creeped up the sides, and many small gardens were around the building. even potted plants sat on the large porch. there were also a few small ponds too. you and the stranger walked into the cottage. “wait here, i’ll bring you some tea,” the stranger excused himself into the kitchen. you sat down on one of the chairs in the living room, it was pretty comfy; you felt a lot warmer than you did outside. a few minutes later, the stranger came back with a small cup of tea, slowly handing it to you. “thank you,” you hummed as you accepted the cup. the stranger just smiles warmly at you as he sits in the chair next to yours.
“oh, i’ve yet to introduce myself. my name is herb cookie!” he grinned as he extended his hand towards you. “(y/n), and uh, sorry about trespassing,” you awkwardly reply, whilst shaking herb cookie’s hand. “no need to worry about it. how did you find my little pumpkin garden though? it’s not exactly a public area,” he asked you.
“well, i was just walking through the forest. then i saw a few squirrels feasting on a fresh pumpkin, and decided to walk around until i found your patch,” you explained, slowly sipping your tea afterwards. herb cookie nodded, “i see…i guess clover cookie’s animal friends did get to the pumpkins after all.” hm, you didn’t see any cookies on your way here. so, out of curiosity, you ask, “who’s clover cookie?” “clover cookie is my brother! he lives here with me,” herb cookie replied. ‘huh, brother. i wonder if they look the same,’ you pondered to yourself.
you and herb cookie chatted for awhile. it was now around midnight, and you were getting a bit tired. herb cookie noticed this and let you stay in one of his guest rooms.
you ended up staying the night there, and honestly, you slept surprisingly well. and in the morning, herb cookie made biscuits for breakfast. plus you even got to meet clover cookie. you, herb cookie, and clover cookie chatted for a bit; until it was time for you to go home. before you left, herb cookie stopped you, “i know you came here to get a pumpkin, so you can have one of mine!” you looked at him, confused on why he’d let you have one. herb cookie obviously cared deeply about his plants. so why did he let you have one. “you’ve been an amazing guest, so you can have one! another gift from me,” he smiled cheerfully. you smile back, grateful for your new friend.
when you got home, you turned the pumpkin into a little plant pot, to symbolize your new friend.
#cookie run#cookie run x reader#herb cookie#herb cookie x reader#cookie run insert#reader insert#x reader#writertober
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( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )
Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween. What he loves more than that? You.
pairing. gamer!jjk x named f!reader.
genre + rating. idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded. it’s just that fluffy. (but also explicit cause why not.)
tags / warnings. established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower.
wc. 9.7k
beta reader(s). the lovely @kerikaaria read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy. tysm! 💛 i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly. oops...
author note. this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves. while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside. i hope you enjoy it!
You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened. You remember, faintly, the mention of a party. Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc. He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought. If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway. Win-win or whatever.
So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge. Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean.
“Zarya’s one! Zarya’s one—“ You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen. You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too. There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch. “Zarya’s actually one!”
No one cares. She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map.
“Jesus—“ Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue. You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.
I need healing! I need healing!
What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though. There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point. Stupid. You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support.
Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked. So infuriating and yet— nope. Just infuriating.
You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise. Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise. He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face. You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru. He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team. A silver lining, you suppose.
Your second round starts well enough. Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta. Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana. You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn. Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost. (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)
You make it through the choke without much ado. The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong. Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter.
“You winning?”
It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction. You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.
(It’s not your own fault. He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)
“Jeez, Kook!” You want to be more mad. Really, you do. You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long. Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn.
“What?” Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime.
You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves. All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.
You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder. You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days. You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery.
It’s a little distracting; he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual. You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck. Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see; it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over. You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication. (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.)
You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so. You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words).
‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet.
“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya? She has grav.” Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon. Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock. If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game.
Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void. Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces. Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next. Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.
“Rip,” says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head. He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match. It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.
“Rip is right,” you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map. If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms. Jungkook chuckles at that.
By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well. There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested. Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.
“You should go top left.”
You don’t turn your head. Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you. Sometimes, you love it; other times, you hate it. Most times, though, he’s right. He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame).
“Can we go top left?” You parrot into your speaker.
For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main. Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team. Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited. “You should be back right by the stairs. You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”
You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point. Amazing.
“Your Zarya has grav. She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”
If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you. As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen.
“Told you,” he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore.
“I was going to say thank you.” Just not right now. You can’t multitask quite like he can.
If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display. “I know.”
As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock. Thank freaking god. You can win this, you think. Easy. No problem.
“Go Ana on defense.” At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth. You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin.
You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time. He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat.
“Do you just want to play?” You don’t mean it seriously. You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you. It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship.
“Nah, I’m snacking.” He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon.
The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions. He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do. He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do. He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t.
You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.
When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair. You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears.
You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game. There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back.
Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie. “We won,” you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug.
“Of course you did.” He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you. He’d been a great coach.
“What’re you doing here?” It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest. He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair. (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines. You don’t care.)
“Whaddya mean?”
The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.
“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.” You remember, because you’d been disappointed. Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.
“We have a thing,” he states, like he’s talking to a moron. You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.
When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen. Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena. It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it.
“Yeah, we,” Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker. “Halloween party, baby. Seriously— you forgot?”
It’s then and there you have two crises: (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party? You didn’t think idols had those. Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?
(You know the answer is no. Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)
“I don’t have anything to wear.” It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach. It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day.
To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face. It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way. Why’s he looking at you like that? Why’s your memory so bad? Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions?
“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”
All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance. It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage. A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns.
“I— don’t remember that.” You’re lying through your damn teeth. Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass.
“But you did!” He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal. It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me! You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate.
“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“
“I have it!”
Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.
“I picked it up on the way here. It’s in your room along with my costume.”
The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia. “Who’re you going as?”
“You’ll see.”
Your costume is spectacular. You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish.
It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs. (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs. You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.) It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing. The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames. Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them; Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.
“I don’t think I can pull this off,” you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious. (You were, once. Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.)
The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places. Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest. You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it. (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)
From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention. Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you. You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp. A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue. “You look great, angel.”
Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance. It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”
“I don’t have to say anything,” he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten. It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot. It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart. “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”
“What about when you found me in the shower ?”
Jungkook hesitates then. He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened. He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom. How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure. All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.
His scream was what had woken you up; yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug. You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.
(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson. They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)
“Okay— that was scary. I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.” A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.
“You’re calling me the Grudge?” You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there. He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms; he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh. His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised; Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer. (Ah, the price you paid for love.)
“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”
“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.” Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end. It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature. You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee. Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact. A little quirk of his you adored.
“I’m serious. You look—” You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose. A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon. “—bewitching.”
If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it. Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders. You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.
“Shut up!” You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself. All part of his plan, you suppose. “You’re so freaking corny.”
“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”
Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.
“Okay! Sorry!” Except he doesn’t look very sorry. More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you. You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.
“Are you going to put on yours yet?”
It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie. You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment. (Not that you really mind.)
Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip. It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting. Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks. It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love.
Today, it comes after the fourth count.
“You’re gonna think it’s lame.” Well, of course you will. As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas. It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams.
With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times. “So?”
He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins. It’s unfairly adorable. Still, you push. Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you. From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted.
(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot. You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum. A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to. You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you; rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)
“Don’t laugh.” By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful. The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday.
It turns out to be the opposite: one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend. He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger. You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another. For tonight, they’re one and the same.
“Joker? Seriously?” You can’t hide the delight. It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.
Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction. Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask. “Don’t sound so excited.” It’s an actual concern of his. He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.
Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more. He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting.
This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky. You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises. It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently. You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared; you think to label one for this night too.
“You look so good.” You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes. It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes. It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling. Bastard. “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker. You don’t even like Persona 5!”
By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter. He’s dressed this way because you like the character.
“Oh,” you say, because there’s not much more to say. Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it.
“Yeah,” he parrots back, a little smug.
Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life. He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set. You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better. (You suppose he is.)
“Angel, come here!” He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side. Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love. There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).
He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.
With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball. You don’t mind. You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.
“I’m winning,” he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.
Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh. Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst. Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.
(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)
“I see that.” You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element. He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some. It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is). “How many games have you won?” Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.
“All of them.” God, his ego. You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best. Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck. He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.
“Good job, Kook.”
You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you. To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.
“Can we play?” Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks. You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.
“Losers don’t get to complain.”
The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs. Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend. (How fitting.) “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”
It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch. “No, you’re just bad at games!” He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes. Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.
That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink. In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus. (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?) You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily. Idiots, the both of them.
“You guys have fun.” And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.
You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond. He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life.
“Jimin-ssiiiii.”
“Ahhhhhh, stop!” It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own. Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads. “You two are ridiculous.”
“He’s ridiculous, not me!” You know it isn’t true. Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines). But together? It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.
You absolutely loved it.
“Sure, sure,” the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot. One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins. A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour. You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one. Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour. “Aren’t you drinking?”
You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.
“Drink this!”
“You want me to drink an entire bottle?” You’re incredulous. Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl. It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless. Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.
“It’s Halloween!” The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too. “Live a little!”
Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy? It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?).
The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it. Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body. “Don’t die!” He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.
“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”
“No, you’re fine.” He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up. You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement. “Your face, oh— Your face.”
It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.
The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane. You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.
That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together. It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor. Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms. You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.
“Baby?” It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies. He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile. “What’re you doing down there?”
“Just hanging out,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.
“Are you drunk?”
You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft. A modern day olive branch. “No?”
Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close. Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like. It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like. Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away. You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness. “You sound drunk, angel,” he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek. It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin. It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves. “Pretty.”
(He really is, you think.)
“Get a room,” comes Jimin from beside you. There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.
“That’s the plan,” Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment. It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him. He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation. When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case. “Want to head home?”
You do. You really, really do.
When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are. Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.
“Whoa—” There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet. “Careful.”
Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway. “Sorry,” you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused. It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.
“Let’s just get these off.” He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh. Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.
You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away. “Here, let me.”
Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time. (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)
“Oh, my prince charming,” you tease, clinging to him like a koala. You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven. “Or are you the court jester? That’s what Joker is, right?” It’s a joke and a bad one at that. Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.
“You’re drunk.” He says it more kindly than you expect. Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve. You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded. There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare. It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.
It comes without thought. You have to tell him. Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it. “I love you.”
Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down. As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands. (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.) “Love you too.”
“Is it time for bed?” You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon. You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.
“You need a shower first.” It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that. You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style. You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression. “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”
He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does. You pout, as you so often do.
“Okay,” you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder. You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings. “Will you wash my hair?” You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.
“You know I will.” Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).
You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck. When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips. You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat. Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.
“We’re showering, baby.” As if that’s meant to stop you. He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention. He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).
“We can shower and have fun,” you mumble into the expanse of his chest. He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable. You think you could live in the feeling of his arms. (You’re lucky you get to.) You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most. “Right, JK?”
It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation. You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless. It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.
He’d explained it to you once. Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first. Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t. JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm. Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that. You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.
“Right, angel.” You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon. You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure. “Gotta get undressed to shower,” he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.
Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises? It’s an absurd ask.
“Or I’ll help you.”
Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.
First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care. Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow. You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep. He stifles a snicker into the skin.
Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle. His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck. You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight. You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits. There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.
“I thought we were going to shower.” The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.
“We are, angel,” Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back. It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame. “Just need to get you warmed up first.”
“The shower’ll be warm,” you say - or think you say, anyway. It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).
“Do you want me to stop?” It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off. Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat. “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern. You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.
You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise. “I never want you to stop.”
That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair. He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “I love you,” he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.
You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment. He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off. You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders. You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.
“Start the shower.”
You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that. You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away. The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.
“I love you,” he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream. He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip. You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does. You wouldn’t mind.
The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside. It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you. You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.
“Hair?” You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder. It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.
“Patience, baby.” It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess. He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue. (He isn’t.)
“What am I waiting—” The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand. Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it. It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips. A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit. The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump. Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.
You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair. “Patience,” he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist. He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue.
“Kook,” you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess. There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest. A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.
“Relax for me.” You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.
The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more. You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish. (You wish you could see him.)
A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him. (It was.) He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense. Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.
It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures. With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.
“Relax, angel,” comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care. Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls. He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.
When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard. Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot; it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.
“K-Kook.” It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.
“I’ve got you.” And he does - hook, line, and sinker. He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave. It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go. He’s got you.
When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn. See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service. Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him. You should recognise the look on his face. “Kook?”
“My turn.” It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward. There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you. It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in. “Hands on the wall, baby.”
You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely. (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)
Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed. In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine. It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat. His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear. It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure. “Oh fuck,” he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.
He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.
“Always so good for me.” Another thing he says, often and without prompting. It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet. “Always so perfect for me.”
“Because I love you,” you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.
“Love you too, angel.” He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway. He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted. He’ll never stop saying it.
The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart. Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust. An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision; it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard. He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high. You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings.
“Kook,” you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower. The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.
He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm. You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing. It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.
“P-please, Kook. Please.” You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his. He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation. “Come for me, Kook. Fill me up.”
Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars. Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you. It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs. You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.
“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.
“I love you,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours. “But I still need you to wash my hair.” It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days. “Ow!”
“You’re a brat.” Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements. He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery. Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.
“I thought I was an angel.” You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.
He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks. Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline. Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice. “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”
You can’t argue with that.
tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi
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rent free pt.11
wifi
[on discord call] y- you k- kenma
K- Hello gardener
Y- picking weeds is fun you're just lazy
K- somethings wrong with you.. i just know it
Y- ITS RELAXING!!
K- TO YOU!
Y- whatever, you probably have like tense ass shoulders since you don't like to relax
K- my shoulders are incredibly un-tense, thank you very much gardener
Y- you're welcome mister uh… stress
K- PFFT- mister stress?
Y- SHUT- let's just move on
K- hm alright.. So how have you and Kuroo been?
Y- oh yeah.. that's not… a thing anymore
K- oh? I thought you really liked him?
Y- yeah I did, I thought I was playing around but I started to fall for him
K- so why aren't you talking anymore?
Y- well... you know what happened last year, and looking back at it now its not really a big deal, but I really don't want it to happen again.. especially since we aren't in the same grade and live 5 hours away from each other
K- you shouldn't compare the two.. The only thing they have in common is that they’re older than you
Y- I guess, but it doesn't matter anyway, I saw some girl comment on his post and it seemed kinda flirty.. I don't want to be just another girl that he's entertaining, and I really don't want to get played again..
Y- hey why'd you stop running?
K- hm? Oh uh my friend texted me I just have to text him back real quick
No one texted Kenma, well the volleyball group chat was probably going crazy, but he had muted them as soon as he got added. Kuroo had also texted him about an hour ago… eh it's fine he'll text back eventually. The real reason Kenma had stopped playing was to check Kuroo’s instagram. It's not like Kuroo to text a girl at all, so texting two was out of the question. Hm.. that's weird, there's nothing there. The only comments under his recent post were from the guys on the team and his sister. God, you could be really dense sometimes, getting upset over a comment from his sister. If you had taken the time to look through her pictures you would've seen a family photo that Kuroo is tagged in.
Kenma noticed that Kuroo hadn’t been on his phone as much recently on the ride home, mostly because he kept pestering him while he tried to play his game. He never planned on meddling in yours and Kuroo’s relationship, if anything he wanted to stay far from it. He loves you both, but the fact that his closest friends had started talking to each other made him anxious. Most of this worries about your relationship came from the possibility of you discovering that he’s applepi. Sure he’d like to meet you eventually, but for now he's content with the way things are. Whenever Kuroo begins to talk about you he makes sure to keep his answers short and simple, nothing out of the ordinary really. Putting a name and a face to the person he's told his worst insecurities to was odd, there was a sense of comfort in the anonymity of it all. At least his identity was still a mystery to you.
He thought that if you and Kuroo stopped talking he'd be relieved, the chances of him meeting you would drop significantly. Selfishly Kenma wanted to change the subject, you’d forget about Kuroo eventually right? It wasn't a big deal anyway… So why did he feel so guilty? He could tell you right now that Kuroo isn't flirting with anyone else, that he talks about you nonstop, shit he's even asked Nekomata about setting up a training camp soon so he could see you again. But then you’d know who he really is, you'd be able to put a face to the late night talks, the secrets.
Y- ohh okay i thought you froze
K- please, my wifis not as shitty as yours
Y- okay it cuts off SOMETIMES but that's not my fault
K- our definitions of sometimes are drastically different
Y- you are SO dramatic it's not that bad
K- huh? Sorry i can't hear you, i think your shitty wifis acting up again
Y- no its not
Y- ..hello..
Y- ...hellooo..
Y- aw shit..
K- gotcha
Y- YOU ASS
*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾
A/N: theres only a few chapters left🥺🥺 i’m 🥺🥺
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Ice Cream Date
Pairing: Midoriya (Deku) x reader
Warnings: A little bit of hopelessness in the first bit, but otherwise nothing
So this is just a quick little Izuku drabble for a sad and down reader. Just a bit more fluff to hopefully pick up your day a bit and gain some broccoli boi content from me (finally)!
Enjoy!
-Sugar
══════════════ *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ══════════════
You sat at the desk in your room, a heavy feeling pressed around you. Nothing all too specifically was wrong, you simply felt . . . blah. Scrolling through as many feeds and windows on your laptop as your flighty yet sluggish brain could think of, you attempted to pass the time until you could finally just go to bed and end this day.
You had been sitting for too long. You just knew it. Maybe getting up and walking around would make you feel better, but the heaviness only seemed to worsen at the thought, stubbornly pressing you more into your seat. Things that you could do floated around in your head, only to be quickly replaced by your brain nagging you about things you probably should be doing. You internally growled and laid your head on your desk, willing yourself to just get something productive done. Maybe that would make you feel better.
You opened a paper that you needed to have finished by next week. Words hastily jotted down from a few nights ago taunted you, your brain stubbornly refusing to offer anything helpful to add on. You tried forcing something out of you, only to instantly delete it. Ugh. Maybe taking a nap would work?
You pried yourself out of your chair and switched off the lights, flopping onto your bed in defeat. The darkness wasn't helping and the silence and lack of distraction only allowed for more intrusive thoughts and anxieties to cloud your mind.
A knock at your door interrupted your spiraling stupor. You let out an exaggerated groan to signal to the person on the other side that they could come in.
"(Y/N)?" Your dorm room door hesitantly clicked and swung open, just enough for someone to peek inside. Already having a good guess as to who it was, you rolled over and lifted your head only to confirm that it was, in fact, Izuku Midoriya who was looking in on you.
"Hi," you greeted, internally wincing at how bored and uninterested you sounded.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"Sure."
Izuku slipped in, shutting the door behind him and plunging the room back into its previous darkness. "Are you doing okay?" He reached a hand down to stroke gently over your cheek, concern lacing his features.
You reached up to cover his hand with yours, sighing. "Not really."
Izuku suddenly gave you a saddened look, almost worried. "Is something wrong?"
"Not quite," you said. "Just having one of those days."
"Oh." Izuku sucked his lip between his teeth, giving it a small nibble. "Do you want a hug?"
"Sure." You moved over so he could slide in behind you, pulling you into his strong arms so your back pressed against his chest.
"Is there anything in particular you need?" he asked, eyes closed as he brushed his nose over your cheek.
"Not really," you said. "This is nice, though. Thank you."
He hummed, reaching up to run a hand through your hair. "I actually came in here to ask you something," he said softly.
"Oh?"
"Do you want to go out on a date with me? Just to go get ice cream or something? There's that place a few blocks away."
You allowed yourself a small smile. That would be a perfect opportunity to pick you up out of this slump you had gotten yourself into. "That sounds great."
The two of you sat and cuddled for a moment longer before finally getting up. You adjusted yourself in the mirror before turning to go, taking Izuku's arm and giving him a kiss on the cheek as he led you out the door.
You walked side by side, arm in arm. The air was fresh, and you could already feel the effect it had on your state. You found your steps growing a little springier, and you rested your cheek on Izuku's shoulder.
He smiled down at you. "You seem like you're feeling better already," he pointed out.
"Yeah. I think I just needed an excuse to get out of the dorms."
It wasn't long before you reached a cute little ice cream parlor. You'd been there before; it was a popular hang out destination among the U.A. students. You'd gone with both friends and your boyfriend alike, and you anticipated this new pending visit.
Izuku smiled and held the door open for you like the gentleman he was, bell tinkling on the frame as it opened. You smiled and thanked him as you stepped in, the familiar smell of freezers and sweet cream flooding your nose. The two of you walked up to the counter where a single employee stood. There was no line, so she allowed you to stand in front of the display as you decided on a flavor.
Izuku held your hand and leaned over to speak in your ear. "Do you want to get something together to share?"
You smiled and nodded, a faint blush heating your cheeks. "What flavor do you want?"
"How about mint? Chocolate chip?" He pointed to the green tub, flecked with brown bits of chocolate. (If y'all don't like mint choco chip, first off, get out, second, go ahead and change it to whatever you want, I don't care. I just ... idk, its green like his hair ... whatever.)
"That sounds great."
He called the employee lady over and asked for a bowl, the two of you watching as she scooped out some of the ice cream. You asked for your favorite toppings on your half and Izuku requested his. The woman before you plunged two spoons into the neatly arranged scoops, grinning slyly at you and your boyfriend as she slid it to you.
You flushed and averted your eyes as Izuku paid, taking his change and the receipt and shoving them into his pocket. He picked up the bowl and let you lead him to your favorite table. It was right next to a window and you could see the street perfectly. There was always the option to people-watch as others went about their way; some in groups, others alone, each one going about their day in their own unique manner.
Today, however, you were more interested in the green-haired boy who had settled himself across from you. You leaned forward and brought your spoon from its place wedged in the ice cream, taking a small amount to your mouth and allowing it to slip between your lips. You studied Izuku as he did the same, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue.
He struck up a conversation with you, chatting about a particular move he was working on. You listened intently, adding appropriate 'hm's and 'ooh's between licks of ice cream off your spoon. You noticed his eyes start to grow distant as he started plotting out a new strategy, his voice lowering into an ever quickening mutter.
You smiled at his hushed, sped up talking, finding it utterly adorable. You were more or less able to follow along with his thought pattern, but you knew what could happen if you let him mutter to himself for too long. You dipped your spoon in the melting dollup of whipped cream and tapped his nose with it, a little white daub left behind on the tip of his freckled nose.
His eyes fluttered and blinked at the sudden, cold sensation of it. Izuku straightened, finally looking back into your grinning face. "I was muttering again, wasn't I?" he asked sheepishly, a little flustered blush materializing on his cheeks.
"It's really cute," you said, your (E/C) eyes twinkling at him.
He wiped the cream off with his finger and stuck it into his mouth. A small part of you regretted that you were too far away to kiss it off him, but tender nose kisses could always be had later.
Izuku asked you again what had been going on with you when he'd walked into your room earlier, and you went on a rant of your own on how you'd been feeling overwhelmed lately.
"You could have asked me for help, you know," he said once you were done, placing his spoon in the now-empty bowl.
"Yeah . . . ," you said, tapping a finger on the table. "I was just hoping I would be able to get something done without bothering you."
"You wouldn't have been bothering me. I like working with you." Izuku reached for your hand on the table and pulled it into the center, letting his scarred and calloused fingers caress yours. "We can work in my room when we get back if you want."
"That sounds good." You flipped your hand so you could comfortably rub your thumb against Izuku's, taking over for him. The two of you watched out the window for a moment, noticing how the sun had begun to sink lower in the sky.
"Want to get headed back?" Izuku finally asked.
"Sure."
You both stood and he took the empty bowl, setting it in the stack with the others on top of a waste bin. He took your hand again and walked you out of the shop, waving to the woman behind the counter as you left. You both swung your joined arms as you walked back, giddily grinning at how your fingers stayed firmly intertwined between you.
"Thanks for rescuing me," you said.
"What?"
"I probably would be waking up from one of my depression naps right now if it wasn't for you," you said. "Thanks."
"No problem."
You walked all the way back to his room.
"Is there anything you need to get?" Izuku asked as you stood in front of his door.
You bit your lip, not wanting to get into the elevator to take you back to your room to grab your laptop. "Maybe in a little bit. Is it okay if we take a break for just a little longer?"
He broke into a smile, the signature, heart-liquefying sunshine smile of his. "Of course."
Izuku took you into his room, pulling you onto the bed and into his arms, just like he had in your room an hour before. Except this time, the heaviness had been lifted. This time, the fog that had plagued your mind had dissipated. Izuku knew exactly what it took to pull you out of a slump and back into a brighter bliss, and you couldn't be more grateful.
══════════════ *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ══════════════
Author's Note:
I am shook at how nicely this one turned out! I've been meaning to do a date/outing fic for the longest time (they tend to make me a little uncomfortable for some reason), and this was so perfect for the first one! If you couldn't tell, I started writing this in a bit of a slump, but over the course of the day, I was able to pull myself out of it. I don't have a Midoriya to my name for me to hug or take me out for ice cream, but all in all, I managed for myself ヽ(ー~ー )ノ. I needed this after the bit of writer's block I've been having lately, and what better way than to spend some time with my (second?) favorite boy Izuku?!
I hope that if anyone feels similar to how y/n did at the beginning they can feel better! My recommendation for if you're feeling like that is to just get up and do something else. Self care is important! Even if it's something as small as shaving your legs and painting your nails (👀), giving yourself some time off is beneficial for everyone!
Thanks for reading! I love y'all!
-Sugar
Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @pyrofanatic @xoxopam4
#izuku midoriya#midoriya izuku#deku#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#izuku midoriya bnha#midoriya izuku bnha#deku bnha#izuku midoriya imagine#deku imagine#midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#deku x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#reader insert#midoriya comfort#sugar fics
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Eunoia (Schoolboy! Taeyong x reader)
A story I worked on Summer and just had the time to finish up!
warning some cheesy fluff moments... lacrosse training...
Anyways enjoy this boarding school au! Taeyong x reader .. with bestie!Jaehyun and Doyoung and a sport leader Yuta plus MARK JUNGWOO!
ENJOY! !!!
Eunoia - beautiful mind
You run through the big hallway of Neo Culture Institute. You’re late for your Lacrosse training and that’s because your Chemistry teacher held you back after class to get explanation about your burned work.
You know how pissed Nakamoto Yuta will be to find you late again. He’s a strict leader.
Welcome to Neo Culture Institute, a school for the selected ones only. That explains the moderate numbers of pupil in one year. Now this prominent school is turning 80, pupil whose parents were graduates from this school will of course study here : the cycle goes on. The school’s known for a lot of things one of which is the Mix gender Lacrosse team. Yes a mix gender match. The rules are alternated and modified as years passed by. Neo Culture obligates their pupil to live in the school’s dormitory so they will set off as a prepared adult later on. The dormitory is divided to four towers: the North, East, South, and West tower. Each tower holds separated rooms for male and female students from different years. The tower consists of rooms and each year has their own big comfortable common room.
You finally make it to your tower, the North tower. You quickly take the stairs to your bedroom in the second floor and change your school uniform to your training attire. You grab your lacrosse stick, goggles, and mouth gear. You leave the room just to bump over a boy with heavy books falling over to the floor.
“Sorry… I was in a rush and I did not see you,” you bend to take the books and hand it into him then run for your life to the court, until you saw the lucky man you bumped was.
You got tongue tied. The guy clearly doesn’t look slightly happy. You know you screw up twice (coming late to training and this), now he won’t like you at all.
He’s no other than Lee Taeyong, a guy from the same year as yours. He’s also a North Tower pupil. He’s the quiet and smart type of man; however, He has friends here and there because of his kindness and intelligent plus handsome look. You can’t deny the one sided love you’re feeling on him. And now you just made a bad impression on your crush. In that silent moment, he speaks up.
“(Y/n) right? It’s okay… I wasn’t looking on my way too.” He shifts his book from one hand to another and pushes his glasses up.
“I’m at fault for running without looking where I head.” you squeeze your racket, heck it’s okay if Yuta will piss off for you being so late… you get a chance to talk with your crush after two years of seeing him from afar!
“Wait.. you know my name?” the realization hits you late and your cheeks are burning.
You see him struggles with his heavy books again, “Want me to help?” you take half of his books without his approval.
“Ah you don’t have to… I’m heading to the common room.” He starts his walk and you turn your body to follow his steps.
The two of you made it to the common room. You put down all of his books to the small table and silence fell until Taeyong realizes the attire and gears you’re wearing.
“Where are you heading?” he asks when he discovers the lack of formal uniform in your body.
“Lacrosse training,” you shrug your shoulder.
“Right…” he goes red; everyone can clearly guess that by the appearance and stick.
“Why don’t you see me train?” you suddenly blurt out those words. Surprised by your own mouth, you don’t want Taeyong to misunderstand you as being inconsiderate for breaking his busy schedule. He looks like he’s ready to bury his head into those thick books. You can see he’s a little bit annoyed by whatever is running in his head, and you thought breathing some fresh air can help him relax.
“I—” Taeyong was cut off by you “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you studying! Well I’ll go first, I’m late.” You turn around in a dash of an eye and run with all your might to the green fields.
Taeyong stays back in the common room, stunned and petrified by what just happened.
Meanwhile Yuta really looked pissed when you come fifteen minutes late.
“You know we’re having a match this weekend with the West Tower right? Their new goalie- Winwin is —”
You nod your head and snapped “Get the ball ready.” You put on your mouth piece, showing him you’re not in the mood for a long debate.
You’ve had enough embarrassment from saying the wrong thing to your crush, and now your team captain isn’t much of a help. You are close to hitting him, luckily your best friend, Jaehyun comes to safe the moment.
“Now I’m sure she has her reason for coming late. She’s right, why don’t we start the practice today since our goalie is here already.” Jaehyun pats both shoulder and the team practice begins.
You’re not on your mood to play nor focus on the game. Your mind is still taunting you over Taeyong’s surprised face when you asked him to see you. Hell why would he see you play? You’re nobody to him. He’s clearly busy and yet your mouth blurted a really silly question. You just saw his stressed face and thought maybe a fresh air will do him some good. But apparently Taeyong won’t think like that.
You end the training with three goals, that’s not much as usually you score five or six. Your mood is totally ruined and you decided to end the practice scornfully.
Yuta doesn’t bug on you. He needs to rush to his Literature class; he’s a fourth year student: being late is considered rude and bad. You sit back on the bleachers with Jaehyun who clearly senses something’s not right.
“What is bothering you?” He throws the bait and with much nagging Jaehyun makes you finally spill everything out.
“He’ll see me as a fool now. What should I do?!!” You hit your best friend out of frustration.
Jaehyun laughs and taps your shoulder, “At least you made a new step,” he points to a man sitting alone on the opposite bleachers and when you look into his way, your mouth hangs open seeing Taeyong waves at you.
You eagerly wave your hand and take quick steps to Taeyong.
“I think you’d like to have a shower first from that sweaty jersey.” Jaehyun whispers.
Right, I should at least smell good.
You shower and change in the provided room and Taeyong is waiting for you outside. He left his glasses; which allows you to see his twinkling eyes better.
“You came! I.. I thought you’re busy.” You stutter out of surprise and delight.
He laughs and you swear that’s the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard.
“I was about to say I’ll come see your practice after I finish my work… but you left me before I got the chance to speak,” Taeyong smiles.
“Right, I thought you look so wrecked and a bit of fresh air might help.” You offer him your genuine smile.
“It’s a nice shoot. You’re our best goalie.” He hides his hands into his pockets and glances over to the big field.
“Well… the West Tower has a new goalie. Heard he’s the best West Tower ever had.” You slump your shoulder suddenly unconfident with your abilities.
Taeyong looks into you, “But you’re our best player. I’m sure you’re a better goalie than him.”
You turn red and realize he just complemented you. It’s only you and Taeyong. A stroll without third party!
After all, lacrosse practice wasn’t that bad. Come to think of it, a night stroll with Taeyong after a lacrosse practice, what else can you wish?!
“With your abilities, any tower won’t stand a chance.” Taeyong walks beside you.
“You’re flattering me too much there,” You chuckle at his words.
“No really, do you think I ever forgot our first lacrosse game? It was a mandatory for all of us to try and find our suitable sport.” Taeyong drives back to memory lane.
Well on our first day of choosing sports, the whole students were tested on different sports. Taeyong happened to be trying the lacrosse with you, everything started well until a quick ball almost knocked Taeyong off to the ground. He never played lacrosse before, while you… you’ve played basic games. Since you were standing close enough to him, you quickly defend him from the ball and you’ve calculated that both of you will fall: he probably from the shock, and you from the jump. You ended up listening to an hour lecture from your coach, but because of that you were scouted as the North Tower’s lacrosse team. Taeyong was really grateful and to thank you, he brought you a box of chocolates and since that day you’ve always love that certain chocolate brand. The choco pie.
“I never forget the person who saved me from falling ungraciously to the ground! Ever since that day I’ve never hold the stick again!” Taeyong dramatically said.
Your brain is malfunctioning. Lee Taeyong, the man you secretly crush, still remembers you. Well he has a lot of friends, he aces all of his tests, teachers all love him, and he has your name kept nicely in the midst of all those important things.
“And thanks to that incident, I found my talent.” You feel butterflies are flying in your stomach.
“Right, you’re really talented!” he praises you once more.
“It’s just lacrosse though,” you said embarrassedly, “I wish I can do everything else perfectly. I failed my chemistry project; Mr. Yukhei really gave me an additional work to recover my burned solution. You can do all of them perfectly.”
“Nah, Mr. Yukhei is totally giving you a hard time. My friend, Mark, sets fire and he’s not given an additional work. Besides, Classes are easy since you just follow the text books.”
“My bad then, I can’t properly follow my books.” you playfully shrug your shoulder.
The dining hall is slowly filled by students chatting and savoring dinner. You reach the table now. You look down at the floor, wondering how to say goodbye and go sit with Jaehyun since Taeyong would likely go sit with his friends, when he speaks again.
“If you want I can help you finish your additional work.”
Your head snapped up, your eyes widening.
“N-No, that’s okay, y-you don’t have to do that, it’s my homework—”
“I don’t mind,” he says, shrugging. “Really, it’ll just be like practice for when it comes up in the exams. Besides, studying with a friend is always less boring, right?”
With a friend. Had he just called you his friend?
“But it’s not fair to you—”
“Look, I’ll help you with your Chemistry works; you can help me with my literature. I’m also not good in literature.” Taeyong stares into your eyes.
“But I’m also not that good in literature…” your words trail off.
“That’s why we can improve together!” Taeyong happily brings a conclusion.
“Well, I’d never reject a help. So, see you after dinner?”
He nods and the two of you part ways. You sit with Jaehyun and Doyoung. Taeyong has gone to his other friends.
--
The two of you meet each other again in the common room after the dinner. The North common room is always the best. With the nice view of the school’s pool and sea, the students of the North Tower are always boasting about this.
You take your favorite spot in the corner and Taeyong seems to enjoy that same spot too. It’s near the edge and the peacefulness is wonderful there. The moon shines nicely through the big windows and the other students are also busy studying or writing letters.
Taeyong calmly explains you the process you failed to do in Mr. Yukhei’s class and the additional essay was done within a reasonable hours. The two of you have moved on from Chemistry to reading the book from your literature class. Clearly Taeyong is a faster reader than you are. You’re struggling with the confusing words unlike Taeyong who’s quickly absorbed to the conflicts. His nose sticks to the pages and you? You fell asleep ten pages into the story.
Taeyong yawns after finishing the first three chapters, his eyes are tired. He glances to your side wondering why it’s so silent. He shakes his head when he sees your eyes closed.
Gently Taeyong taps on your shoulder and you turn red.
“Think today’s a tough day for you. You’re tired from lacrosse I guess. Why don’t you go to bed? We can work on the literature tomorrow.” Taeyong cleans your papers and his belongings.
Work on literature tomorrow, did you just hear things? Does that means he’s offering you for studying together again tomorrow.
You yawn and stretch from the short sleep. “Right, I better move to my room. Well thanks Taeyong for helping me tonight.”
Taeyong hands you the papers and he stands from his chair. You leave the room.
“Good luck handing them to Mr. Yukhei tomorrow. See you!” Taeyong waves and the two of you part ways.
Well what a nice day and memory! A night stroll with Taeyong, a study date, and a hearty conversation with him.
You’ll see each other again in Chemistry class tomorrow and in the evening. You only share Literature, Music, and Chemistry with Taeyong, other than that it’s totally different from his.
__
Your legs can’t stay still; if your mother is there she’ll most likely slap them for being so restless. You swear you can basically sew a pair of jeans with the constant leg movement on top of a sewing machine. Well, you’re nervous about meeting Taeyong. Usually you’re calm and reserved because you know even when you share the same class with Taeyong, he would not bother looking for you. Today is different though, you told Jaehyun and Doyoung about finishing your Chemistry essay with Taeyong and the two men seem to tease you more and more. They know about your crush on him, and they have been trying to set the two of you up for a date, but yes Taeyong is always preoccupied with his books. Your mind is drowned with his warm eyes and sweet smile. For a moment, the loud voice of your English teacher is muted and all you can hear and think is Taeyong. You’re sickly in love. This is not good for your sanity.
“Class is over now, please remember to submit your five pages essay tomorrow. You are dismissed.” Mr.Johnny’s clear voice brings you back to reality.
You snapped your neck to Doyoung who sits beside you, “What essay?”
Jaehyun laughs upon my question, Doyoung whilst cleaning his books replies, “The four pages essay about Taeyong my darling. You’re totally absorbed in your day dreaming that you did not hear the whole class scowls over the insane work.”
“Stop joking. I did not hear him, was thinking about lacrosse.” You lied.
“Huh- never knew Taeyong is the definition of lacrosse.” Jaehyun joins his friend mocking you.
“Fine, I can ask the others. You two have fun teasing me!” you pick your books quickly and stand away from your table.
“It’s about Rom-com TV shows. You need to make an argument on why it’s necessary or not. Don’t worry we can do it together tonight.” Jaehyun finally explains the real deal.
“Great, Mr. Johnny is a real pain in the ass. Did you forget we have training again today?” You asked Jaehyun upon hearing his calm demeanor.
“Of course I remember, it’s only an hour of practice before tea time. We can do the work after dinner.” Jaehyun takes over some of your book and helps you move class. Doyoung has bid his farewell on the junction, he’s attending Philosophy class and the two of you are taking Biology.
To tell you about Jaehyun, you two met at the first day of school: in the midst of the chaos of classifying students. You two saw each other when handing over your data and health certificate, then the matron said the two of you belong to the North Tower. Since you came alone to this school and Jaehyun was as confused as you were, the two of you exchanged names and shortly stuck together. You found him nice and easygoing; he too found it comfortable to befriend you. So your first friend in Neo Culture Institute was Jaehyun. It must be luck that both of you shared the same time table: the only class you were separated was only Geography. You both share the same struggle memorizing the big hallways and rooms, getting lost in the middle of moving to another class, and you both made it to the lacrosse team. Being in the same lacrosse team meant that you two even saw each other outside classes. You admit it was nice having one best friend, but you know you can’t only have one friend, that’s when the two of you met Doyoung in English class and received a group project together. Since then the two of you clicked with Doyoung and he jumped into your friendship circle. Three years of sitting with the same people and laughing over the same jokes, you did not realize that actually a lot of people are interested in knowing you.
“(y/n)? day dreaming again? We’ve arrived! Where are you going?” Jaehyun raises his volume, but still keeping it low.
“Ah! Yes, I forgot… I thought it’s the next class.” You are flustered. Well, your eyes are focus on someone entering the class beside yours: Further math. Taeyong is there walking while chatting with his genius friends Mark and Jungwoo.
Jaehyun follows your gaze, but he fails to see anyone. “You’re seeing things? Come Bio class is here, that’s for further math and we know you’re not going to survive a second there.” Jaehyun reaches for your free hand and pulls you inside. He puts his books down on his table, and passes yours to the table beside his.
“It’s been six month since we use this room, how can you forget?” Jaehyun wonders and finds you still dozing off.
“I swear if this is what happens if you met Taeyong, I will not allow you to meet him again!” Jaehyun scoffs and slumps in his chair. There’s no point in talking to a love-struck statue.
“Jae, cut it off. I was only wondering if I can make it to the further math class.” You nonchalantly voice what’s in your mind.
Jaehyun slumps in his chair and decides to leave you be.
Meanwhile in further Math class.
Taeyong is trying hard to calm his hard beating heart. He saw her earlier, walking to the class next to his. Taeyong just realizes that (y/n) has always been taking that class, but he never saw her before. He felt his heart skipped a beat when he saw her figure walking down the hall. His heart then beats faster when he saw who was beside her; of course it was Jaehyun. The whole school knows that those two are inseparable. Taeyong shakes his head from his dream, and focuses back to the numbers on the board. He repeatedly told himself to get a hold and focus.
__
You spend your afternoon in the field. While waiting for your team, you and Jaehyun decided to train some passing and scoring. The two of you are having fun with each other and the team begins to complete. Yuta takes the lead as the captain and not long after it you are running around the field, jumping, and catching balls. You perform nicely in today’s practice, well if it’s talent it won’t be that hard to keep a nice performance. The match with West Tower is coming in two days. Today may be your last practice, since it will be beneficial to take a rest one or two days before the match.
Taeyong did not appear on the audience bleachers at all, and you laugh at yourself why would he watch you practicing when he has more things to do and friends to hang out with. You take off your goggles and mouth gear. Your sweaty and messy body screams for shower, and so you shower. You are greeted with a fresh Jaehyun and the two of you walk your way back to the next class. Yes, you have one Music class to attend right before tea time. The two of you reunite with Doyoung and class begun. There is nothing remarkable or special, just that the three of you are the teacher’s favorite singer. Yes Jaehyun and Doyoung are talented and so are you.
You spend your tea time and dinner with them and your lacrosse team. Yuta needs to talk about our practice earlier. The team members are called to gather in a table. You look around the big hall, and found Taeyong sitting with his other friends; he sure has a lot of acquaintances!
“So, where are we going to do the essay?” Doyoung questions when the team finish the evaluation.
“I don’t think I can join you two. I forgot to tell you, I’ve made a schedule to learn with Taeyong at seven tonight.” You bite your lips anxiously.
To your surprise, the two boys have no problem with it, “Good luck then! Let’s see if your essay can get a high score tomorrow. Now go and chase your Prince Charming!” Doyoung squeezes your shoulder and pushes you to leave them.
Jaehyun just smiles and waves his hand, then he puts his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder and they cheerfully left.
You meet Taeyong on the school’s indoor garden. During summer, the sun sets a bit longer and the weather is perfect to study in the School’s garden. There are several chairs and tables, most students also use the soft grass directly. As long as you don’t stain your uniforms, you’re good. You’ve changed into a comfortable sweater and pants, you bring your papers and books. Taeyong is already sitting on one of the chair and waves to call you.
You rush to his side and with a big smile; you take the chair across him.
Studying with Taeyong is always serious and efficient. He doesn’t want to disturb my sleeping schedule because he knows how hard and tiring it is to train for lacrosse.
“Any trouble today?” he chuckles after asking you.
You shake your head, “None. You saw me handing my papers to Mr. Yukhei and he was surprised I can finish it. I need to thank you one again Tae.”
“Great! I need to finish on my Philosophy essay, do you need any explanation tonight?” he asks before starting his own work.
“No. I’ll work on my English essay then, it’s due tomorrow!”
Taeyong guesses a number, “Let me guess, must be 4 or 5 pages right?”
You gasped in surprise, “How did you guess?”
He points at your papers, well he’s an observant. You feel foolish thinking that he researched from his friends about your works.
“Right, better start now.” He waves his pen over you and you quickly nod your head.
You are clearly clueless about your essay, while Taeyong easily finishes his introduction.
He pauses from his work and looks at you, who still have a blank page.
“Having hard time? What’s the topic about?”
You once again feel so bad and useless. Taeyong can finish his work in two hours, but because of you he will need more time. Gosh what a nuisance you are.
You guiltily tell him about the theme and he laughs for the absurd choice; however, the two of you got carried into a deep conversation about Rom-com and soon you are able to fill in your papers.
You draw your last period on your last sentence and cheer happily. You stretch your palm which aches and sure will go numb. Taeyong has finished his philosophy work not long after it. You want to give up on his offer to read the literature book, but Taeyong is already on his sixth chapter, and you are still on page twenty… and reading together means more time to spend with Taeyong right? So you force yourself to read the lines.
The two of you have moved from the chairs, your butt hurts and you choose to sit on the green grass. You are leaning back against the cool pillar wall in the indoor garden, with your knees pulled up. Your fingers fiddle with the edges of your literature book. Taeyong is opposite you mirroring your position exactly, just with a calm expression, unlike you who’s frustrated with each dialogue.
After a good ten pages, you give up. Taeyong is still absorbed in the confusing words exchange. His eyes are focused on his book, seemingly deep in thought. His lower lip shows a small pout which he occasionally keeps moist. He sometimes chews on his lips a bit, probably stressed with the plot. You feel your heart melt at his sight. All you want to do is lean in and kiss him then and there. Feel the warmth and plushy pink lips of his.
Did he even know how beautiful he was?
You hold yourself back from spilling any unwanted words out. Right at that moment, two loud voice break through the silence.
“There you are Tae! I swear I can’t keep up with Jungwoo any longer-“ Mark bends and puts his hands over his knees while gaping for air-“Jungwoo has not left me since dinner and he’s been questioning me the same silly riddles which I do not found funny.”
Jungwoo comes behind Mark with his dorky smile plastered on his bright face.
“There you are Mark! Told you, you can’t escape me. Ah hey Tae, and...” Jungwoo tries his best to recall your name.
“The lacrosse girl from North tower right?” he snaps his finger in attempt to bring back his memory “(y/n)! Woah you’re now studying with (y/n) Tae!”
Taeyong’s face flushes a little and Mark clearly busted him.
“So now you two are a thing?” Mark wriggles his eyebrows.
“What? What do you mean? We’re only studying and doing works together. Nothing’s wrong with it right?” replies Taeyong, flustered.
“Oh yeah we get it studying” Jungwoo puts his finger to make a flying quotation.
You stay quiet while hiding your smile. You got to admit your heart is also beating fast, and seeing Taeyong’s blushing face makes you want to blush too.
“We’re reading our literature task. You want to join us?” Taeyong returns to his cold attitude again.
“Oh definitely no thank you! I’m busy getting under Mark’s skin, good luck for you two!” Jungwoo pushes Mark and waves his hand, then he drags Mark away from us. His tone clearly mocks Taeyong for being shy in front of his crush, but both of you are too shy to admit your feelings.
“I’m sorry about those two. They were never tired. I sometimes wonder why I’m friends with them.” Taeyong turns his body to face you and the moon perfectly glisten his silhouette and sparkling eyes. You are lost in his presence.
“Well how did the three of you met?” You ask clearly curious how Taeyong managed to befriend two energy balls.
He smiles and got caught in his memory, “We took the train on our first day, and we shared the same coach. That’s how we became friends, but they were sorted to another tower and we promised to still be friends.”
“Lucky you,” you say sincerely. “Honestly. It’s amazing how you’re friends with the other towers. The only person I’ve ever known is Jaehyun.”
Taeyong shakes his head. “No you’re wrong. You have all of the lacrosse team as friends—”
“Not really,” you cut. “They’re not friends. Jaehyun is my only real deal. He’s the only person I’m comfortable in talking to. But it must be nice to have more than one person like that, right?”
Taeyong has an odd look in his eyes. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?” The question surprises you. “Um…yeah. He’s my best friend. I don’t think I’d survive school without him.”
Taeyong’s impassive countenance is puzzling. “Well, you have me now too.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Well, you can talk to me too now! I’m your friend too right? I mean… it’s okay for me to listen to you if one day you need someone.” Taeyong blurts out his messy words.
You look at him surprised, and he quickly drives your attention else where, “Look, I just want you to feel happier. Now it’s almost night time, I think we have to go back.” He shakenly picks his books and stands up. You copy his action and soon the two of you made it to the North Tower.
You both bid farewell and go to your assigned bedrooms. You can’t stop smiling when your memory repeated his words again and again. Taeyong mentioned you as his friend and he sounded like he wanted you to talk with him.
--
The upcoming week end is sports day and the whole school is rejoicing over the short break. For once they can meet their parents who come to look at the game, and have lunch with them too.
Today is the lacrosse sparring game between Neo Culture Institute and WayV School. The two favorite boarding school in the area.
You are especially nervous today, since your rivals are looking tall and big today. You walk through the changing room and gather with the rest of the team. Your coach is busy planning and explaining the game plan for today. You can’t stand still, your nervousness makes you sway from one foot to another. Jaehyun who stands beside you nudges your shoulder. “Stop swaying. You’re annoying.”
You raise your brow, “Hey I’m nervous okay. Look at them… they’re tall and big! I can’t imagine getting hit by them.” You fold your hands over your chest. Jaehyun glances over his shoulder to look at the other team. He smirks and pats your back, “You’re strong. I know you’ll have no trouble today. Just stay calm okay.”
Actually Jaehyun’s words are making you more nervous, it’s as if the whole school has high hopes on your performance today. Well as a shooter, you’re burdened to bring the trophy home. When you turn your back to look at the spectators, you see Taeyong walking to you. He waves at you and you forgot everything else.
“Hey Good luck okay! The North Tower is all here rooting for you! I’ll see you from the bleachers. Break a leg!” Taeyong fist bumps you and leaves to take a seat near the waiting bench.
Your team gathers their hands and yell your jargon. The referee blows the whistle and both team walk into the field. You shake hands with all of the players and note how strong their grips are. You may look smaller than them, but your desire to win is bigger than anything else.
You stand on your position, looking at Jaehyun – who’s on defense – he sends you a reassuring nod and you grip on your racket harder.
The game starts and after the ball is tossed from one racket to another, the first goal belongs to WayV. You did not get a chance to score, for the ball was always on their side. The audience cheers for your team and Yuta burns the team’s spirit back up. You once again return to the hot field and focus on the quick ball. While running here and there, you finally receive a nice catch from Jaehyun and you see the clean chance to score a goal. One to one marks the end of first segment. Your team mates run all scream in joy when you made the first goal.
Your coach makes a note to you, telling you how the opponents are starting to run out of breath. Lucky you, your breathing is still constant. You nod your head in understanding when the coach tells you to keep shadowing them and try to score whenever you got the chance.
You return to the field one more time with big determination and when the whistle sounds, you’re back running to where the ball is. However in the middle of the heated game, you are trying to receive a passing from Yuta when a big-built player from WayV stumbles on you and knocks you down. You’re tossed over the grass and the game is stopped. You see black for a moment and all you can think is you must not pass out here. Not in the middle of the field. Not in the middle of a game.
You open your eyes and found the referee asking your condition.
“Are you okay?” The referee asks
You nod your head and grimace at the feeling in your right ankle. Jaehyun is already kneeling beside you. “Is it your right ankle? You twisted it?”
“I think so,” you look at your right ankle it is slightly swollen.
You nod, he speaks to the referee, “Her right ankle is weak. Usually she banded it firmly with a piece of wood and she must keep walking.”
The referee looks at you and you nod your head approving Jaehyun’s explanation.
“Okay, we’ll see if you can still proceed with the game. Break.” He helps you move to the waiting bench and your coach quickly tied your ankle for support. You force yourself to walk so it doesn’t feel numb and Jaehyun hands you a lemonade to quench your thirst.
Taeyong calls your name and asks if you’re okay. You just smile at him and send him a thumbs up. His smile really numbs your pain.
The break was over and you choose to continue the game. Your coach knows you well, you’re not the weak type to cry over a twisted ankle and beg for substitution. No, instead you’ll be begging to play. You force your foot to function back and although it starts to swell, you’re back on the game. This time, Jaehyun is always running near you. He blocks you from the big players, he helps take the ball, and he’s tirelessly making sure you’re okay. Your fighting spirit returns and you start to forget the pain in your ankle. You receive a ball from Yuta, pass it to Jaehyun who’s free and you rush to get near the goal. Before you have a nice chance, Jaehyun is blocked by two big players which forces him to pass the ball to anyone near him. That person being you, his toss was super high and you jump with all your might to catch the ball. The opponent team is slower to jump, and the ball is in your racket. Quickly you aim for the goal and shoot. Two-One and the game ends with Neo Culture’s win. The audience cheers on the top of their lungs and your team runs to carry you and toss you in the air. The North Tower is cheering the loudest, as they’re super happy that a student from their tower made the winning goal. You see Taeyong smiling at you, but the concern look in his face is unbeatable. Jaehyun comes to hug you and helps you move out of the field. Taeyong once again feels a burning sensation in his heart.
You’re ecstatic. Damn your ankle will probably go black tomorrow and you won’t be able to walk well, but because of the winning shot you’ll even accept it if you have to bruise both of your ankle.
The team escorted the opponent to the dining hall. The tea time is a great banquet at times like this. Parents are also welcomed to enjoy hot teas and fancy sandwiches. The school’s kitchen prepares a big feast and the hungry lacrosse players find no difficulties in finishing those.
Taeyong comes to congratulate you along with his two best friend Mark and Jungwoo. They praise you for your goal and they tease Taeyong for being super worried earlier. You’re happy to learn that Taeyong is worried sick when you fell, but you keep your emotions inside.
The day ends nicely with three big cheers for you from the North Tower. They’re proud of you.
--
You didn’t knew that a week end like this could ever happen. You’re now in the town with Taeyong, his friends, and Jaehyun. His friends insist on inviting you to join their week end get-away. You see Taeyong enters a book shop with his friends while you are dragged by Jaehyun to a fragrance candy shop. He’s busy walking around the aisle picking candies and sweets while constantly bickering on you to try the testers when you are not a big fan of sweets. Not now when all you want to do is sneak out with Taeyong to you don’t know.. maybe a stationary store or a puppy adopting house.
You turn your head to the entry door when you hear the loud voice of Taeyong’s buddies and the two of you exchange glances. You offer him a smile which he did not return. There, Taeyong sees you and Jaehyun sticking to one another and he couldn’t bring a smile to his sour face. He drives his eyes elsewhere and walks to join his friends. You’re confused, what’s wrong with him? Did you do anything wrong?
“Hey (y/n)! Quick what do you want? I’m going to check out after this.” Jaehyun pulls your sleeve and you turn to him, “I’ll take the Choco-pies. 2 boxes. Thanks for the treat.” Jaehyun shakes his head but proceeds to pay his belongings and yours.
Taeyong sees every interaction between you two and he hates himself for not being able to man up and walk to you. No, he’s too shy for you.
Hours of study date and several more lacrosse matches, Taeyong finally found his courage to be a man and spill his heart out. If he has the balls, he will confess and maybe ask you out.
He's been thinking of this for a long time, every night he imagines the possibilities of what might happen after he tells you his true feelings. Will he be your boy? Or will your friendship and his end here?
With the help and support of Mark and Jungwoo, who have been convincing Taeyong that you are also interested in him, Taeyong has finally recite his final practice on the mirror tonight.
Tomorrow's a big day, the school game! Taeyong has prepared your favorite chocolate brand and a hand-written letter. He made a back up plan, yeah he will give the letter if things go wrong.
Taeyong spent some good five nights to write a poetic letter for you, or at least he tried to sound romantic but not cheesy!
He will either talk to you directly or just leave you the message, because he never knows when his tongue will freeze.
The big game day happens from the morning to noon. You've taken breakfast earlier than the other students and were drilled for a light game before the actual one. You're a bit nervous today since the visitor is the strongest challenger from nearby.
One small warm up game won't hurt right?
“Ouch! Fuck jae!” you yell as you throw your racket to the ground and bring your hands to cover your nose.
“Woah i'm sorry really!” Jaehyun tosses his racket to the ground and runs to check on your accident.
Well earlier you and Jaehyun had a little argument because he's been pulling on your nerves for the last weeks. Teasing you that you still don't have anyone to come with you to the prom. You're mad you cannot fight him back because he did find himself a partner already and you're still preoccupied by the tons of homework.
“Hey let me see,” Jaehyun crouches and reaches out a hand to check your nose, but you quickly brush him off.
“Go away! You really pissed me off" you push your body away from him. Maybe it's the hormone and the nerves from the tight schedule and the upcoming match, you never intended to be this rude to your best friend.
Jaehyun stands back with a confused look, he looks a bit hurt, but majority of his face shows concern. He knows the team will most likely blame him for tossing the ball too hard when he clearly sees you’re quite close enough to receive a light throw. But he wants to tease you a bit from the tension and did that strong hit… only to mess up and hit your nose to bleed.
The coach calls and end to the game and you're ushered to the clinic.
“Welcome, what can I help you with?” a soft voice you've heard a lot now, greets you.
You look up from the messy strands of hairs on your face and close your eyes when you recognize who is standing before you.
Out of all student working here, why must it be Taeyong and why must you look this messy and horrible.
You hold your blood red uniform to your nose, you don't realize your skin has been exposed since you drag the top to suck the blood.
“Woah you're so bloody.. seat down" Taeyong hurries over to take the first aid kit and you sit yourself down on one of the beds.
“Now lean forward slightly and keep breathing from the mouth" Taeyong explains as he rushes back now in front of you.
“Excuse me,” he pinches your nose and after a while he presses an ice pack to stop your clotting.
Taeyong is completely focused to stop your bleeding for ten minutes. Your eyes travel to record every details of Taeyong's beautiful face. He's so close to you, you can feel his light breathes touching your sweaty face and you try your best not to mess your breathing and choke ugli-ly infront of him. Eugh.
“Hey we're almost there.. hold the cold for a moment okay,” he flashes an apologetic smile. You blink and he sorts of get it, you actually forget the freezing sensation… the man you like is standing just inches away from you?! How can you not blush and feel burnt?!
You thank the ice and the alibi of running in the field.. so that way he won't ask why your face is so red now.
Taeyong stops pinching your nose and takes away the cold ice bag too. He then proceeds to clean the bloody mess you have and carefully he asks all the procedural questions he has to.
“So who did this to you?” Taeyong finally let out the most bothering question he has.
You roll your eyes, “Dumb Jaehyun"
Tae’s surprised by your answer, well he thought the two of you cannot have fights but did Jae punched you?
“Lacrosse match is starting soon and he decided to throw me a strong swing when i'm near him… of course the ball will hit me. And voila i'm here.” You look into his worried eyes and suddenly rage is gone from your mind.
“But I gotta thank Jaehyun though,” Taeyong whispers as he cleans up the tissues and ice packs.
“Huh?”
“Uhm don't bend first (y/n) or look down.. that will cause another nose bleed.. just stay calm for a while okay.”
“Well I mean.. because of your accident… we got to meet here…” Taeyong sheepishly smiles, he really has a hard time controlling his emotion.
“Oh well i'm not that happy since you got to see my super ugly side. I mean you see me covered in bloods.. it's horrifying right?” you throw your glance to the floor and swing your legs.
“What's the problem with that? You don't look horrifying… you're still pretty in fact.” Taeyong stands on his track, frozen when he realizes what he just said.
You turn your head to face him, and he looks so flustered, “shit I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Ugh i'm sorry..”
You laugh and tap the empty spot next to you “Come here for a sec?”
Taeyong tosses the medical tray to the sink and he strides to your side.
“Can you say that one more time?” you smirk at him
He looks so flustered, “Uhm which one?”
“That one .. oh you know.” You wink at him.
He inhales a deep breathe, well guess this is it.. the right moment.
Taeyong lets go off a long breathe and he finally holds one of your hands.
“You look pretty. Despite the bloods and the sweats. You really captivate me and you mess me up!” Taeyong stares into your eyes as he spills out his hidden emotions.
“You’ve been running around in my head all the time and guess that's how you can endure the long training from lacrosse! You don't get tired running every day in my head here!” Taeyong rolls his eyes at his own lame joke. Your laugh at least make him more comfortable.
“Nice pun and pick up line there mr sexy brain!” You poke his stomach and he flinches.
“Hey! Glad you like it… I thought it'll sound lame..”
“Well I like you too Tae,” you blurt it out.
His eyes widen in surprise, “Wait I haven't said my words yet! You stole my line.”
You jump from the bed and giggle “Well but I knew you were going to eventually say You like me.. if i'm wrong then I have to leave this school and change face!”
“No.. well you're not wrong.” He also jumps down from the bed
You take some steps backward to the door, “Great! Now I have to cut this sweet moment because… five minutes after this it's the game time!”
Taeyong copies your strides and he is already in front of you, holding you back from leaving the room.
“I like you, meet me after the game… balcony usual place.” He gives you his sweet smile.
“Okay.. guess i'll have to go" you awkwardly wait for something.
Taeyong looks puzzled, you're waiting for something and the door is not closed.
“Oh! GOOD LUCK!” He suddenly realizes that maybe you're waiting for that.
You launch yourself to his embrace. Thankfully, he catches you and prevents you from falling down.
“Need my good luck hug.. jae's probably not giving me any…” you squeeze him tight and leave after realizing you're late
“Go! I’ll see you from the bleachers! Just like that time" he waves and pushes you lightly through the open door.
You smile and rush back to the field. You'll be playing after the break.
“Break a leg team!” you scream to your team mates and they're relieved you're treated and back at the field.
“Change your clothes, and warm yourself up. Guess a nosebleed won’t stop you from playing right?” your coach toss you a new jersey and you excitedly change.
When you return from the changing room, you catch Taeyong on one of the bleachers smiling into you and giving you two thumbs up.
Your fighting spirit returns and you know today's game will be interesting.
--
“Hey hey look who's over the moon!” a silhouette appears from the corner of the balcony and you look over your shoulder to smile at the man taking calm steps to sit beside you.
“Congrats on winning!” Taeyong uses his peripheral view to check you.
“Thanks… I also need to thank your help with my nose.” You shrug your shoulder, “If someone else was there and messed up.. I won't be in the field.”
“So.. is this where I am supposed to tell you what was interrupted this morning?” his legs shake and your heart beat increases.
“Okay I’m doing it now!” he inhales and finally speaks his heart aloud
“I’ve really liked you a lot since the first time we met. I know it took me a long time to convince my heart and say yes this is the girl I want to be with… I'm sorry if I never tell you this before because I cannot imagine what will happen if my feeling is not mutual ! I did not want to lose a friend like you and silly me used to thought you like Jaehyun and that I don't stand a chance." Taeyong's voice was shaky at first but he managed to sound bold and free on his last words.
You grin when you heard his confession, well you've drop dead gave him a lot of hints that you like him yet he was so pliant and vague about giving signs if he likes you back.
But tonight everything will change!
“So since you’ve blurt it out earlier. I'm gonna make it clear. I like you and I think we can be more than friends!” Taeyong smiles and bites his lower lips just like he usually does when he's nervous.
You nod and hide a strand of hair away from your face, suddenly being so woman-like.
“I like you too Tae,” you chuckle and let go a breathe you did not realize you've been holding.
“So… are you still free to the prom?” Taeyong slips his hand into his pocket and crumple up the letter he has there.
Your eyes twinkle, knowing where this might be going.
You quickly nod your head, “I got too carried away with tests and training… haven't gotten any partner yet. What about you?”
A big grin grows on his face as he reaches out for your hands “Great because this man over here is also looking for a partner. So, will you go to the prom with me?” he lightly squeezes your hands and you feel an electric shock rushing in your body.
“Well what color are you wearing? It better be something that matches with lavender blue, because your girl is going in that color.” You boldly wink at him and he laughs at your action.
Taeyong pulls you closer and hugs you tight “You know what? I have the exact matching attire to stand next to you. See you on the prom?”
You push your body away from him and hold his face in your hands “See you on the prom and breakfast tomorrow!” you press a quick kiss on his cheek and run away. Waving good bye as the night bell rings.
Taeyong stands under the moonlight, blushed with one hand hovering over his red cheek. Did you just kissed him?
Well believe it or not Taeyong craves for more of that plush soft lips!
Sometimes it takes courage to know the truth, but it is always better to take the risk and regret nothing.
The end
#lee taeyong x reader#taeyong x reader#taeyong x you#taeyong x y/n#taeyong imagine#taeyong scenario#supermnet#multifandomnet
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1984 livewatch
the time has finally come to watch the full movie! it’ll be sad, it’ll be disturbing, it’ll possibly be cringy, but it’ll be a lot of fun! :D
we start out with the mgm lion! noice ;)
epic quote B)
wait why is opera music playing i thought we’d start at the 2 minutes hate
OMG what if they’re gonna hate on opera
this looks like a drive-in movie tbh
narrator: “this is a land of peace and hope, a land of plenty...” OH SHUT UP YOU
they’re showing wheat like it’s little house on the prairie BOI YOU’RE IN LONDON
this is epic propaganda B)
what if the war footage was taken from ww2 and thus... isn’t real :o
HOLD UP is the eurasian war racist?
THE QUEEN HAS ENTERED THE CHAT
WHAT ARE THEY ALL SHOUTING I CAN’T HEAR WHAT THE FDR GUY IS SAYING SHUT UPPPPP
oh no it be u (his face is like ‘WHAT IS GOING ON’ and it’s very lol)
julia’s so into this! :o
o’brien’s like ‘ohhh!!!’
look who decided to SHOW UP FINALLY
he pauses a bit before reluctantly joining in yas ♥
OMG THIS IS LIKE A SCHOOL ASSEMBLY STOP TALKING GEEZ
good they stopped!
WOWWW DON’T EVEN LIST SUZANNA HAMILTON’S NAME WITH THE OTHERS GIVE HER A ‘WITH’ CREDIT WOWWWWW
this IS a school assembly they’re going back to work!
winston in glasses *chef’s kiss*
ooh a rotary dial! great use of tech from when the book was written :D
winston’s looking over at syme WITH SO MUCH JEALOUSY lol
what if the words they speak are just random stuff with no meaning
OMG confession!!!!!
poor winnie with his cough :(
this confession sounds JUST LIKE WINSTON’S OMG!!!!
winston: “bugger!” he’s a brit lol :D
epic B)
OMG this guy read goldstein’s book SO DID WINSTON!!!!
i love how the diary is in a brick hole that’s so cool :D
the diary scene was filmed on april 4th just like in the movie so that’s way rad man :D
i want you valley!!! :D
ooh they’re put a smol scene of his childhood in there coolio! :D
he s l e e p
this violin squeak tho :o
OMG THIS IS THE STANDING UP SCHOOL SCENE
it’s not but i can easily imagine it lol :D
he’s a stick omg ;o
when the lady talks to him you know it’s not a recording ;)
lady: “anyone under 45 is perfectly capable of touching his toes” BOI
oh no PARSONS
parsons: “choco rations are going up” c h o c o
parsons: “i seem to have run out of razor blades for some reason’ yeah,,, for some reason... ;)
this is so a cafeteria scene at school
THEY SAW EACH OTHER OMG
♫ i suddenly see him standing there, a beautiful stranger tall and fair, i wanna stuff this weird food in my faaaace! ♫ :D
me: “this is so romantic!” winston’s thoughts: “lemme smash HER WITH A ROCK”
wait did the lady say pineapple grenade???
HIS FACE LOOOL
syme rip boi
the 11th edition isn’t thicc :/
aww winston’s smol nod ♥
parsons: “by 2050 we won’t have conversations like this!” yeah because of screens lol
OMG the food looks and taste like meat but isn’t IT’S PLANT BASED MEAT!!!! :o
parsons just pulled a ‘hey need help with that?’ and put winston’s food on his plate EPIC
julia’s lookin’ at u ;)
YAS PROLES HOPE!!! :D
oh no DON’T TALK ABOUT THE 50 YEAR OLD WOMAN SEX WINSTON
OH NOOOOOOO
he liked the ‘bright red lips’ yet...
THIS CHICK’S LIPS AREN’T BRIGHT BOI
poor baby desperate for money :(
let’s GET THIS BEAT
hand on cheek = doublepluscute ^_^
epic foreshadowing B)
OMG CHESTNUT TREE POEM FORESHADOWINNNGGGGGG
OMG a couple is making out in the bar EPIC
winston’s just like ‘nnope’
OMG THE THOUGHT POLICE WERE FOLLOWING????
he’s at an antique store in prescott bless his heart ♥
mr. charrington sounds so kind WHYYYY
THE BIRTH OF A QUEEN ♥
mr. charrington says ‘4 dollars’ but they’re in london??
YAS BELLS OF ST. CLEMENS!!!! :D
winston: “what was that?” mr. charrington: “something old.” no DUH
they see each other againnn!!!!! :D
winston writes that he hates her SAME WITH A LOOK LIKE THAT
OMG SMOL WINNIE BIG O’BRIEN????? :o
his mom is lying dead in the field like the erza kid in ‘kirsten’s promise’ :(
he’s just... staring
OMG SPYING ON THE SPICY STARING ACTION :o
she PLONKED
that ‘ow!’ was so fake jules!
this is like anna and hans but not as bad underneath!
julia: “it’s nothing!” but this is turning out to be something... ;)
we’re half an hour in and wowza it’s gone by so fast! :D
winston: *gets a cute love note from julia* YEET!
THE HELICOPTER IS BACC!!!!! they’re really not making the spying subtle
OMG THIS IS THE THOUGHT CRIMINAL SCENE YAAAAS!!!!! :D
winston is the best plummer confirmed
kid: “you’re a thought criminal!” winston: *gives a slight ‘wha’ face and smiles* ICONIC
:)
the crowd is clapping and cheering over the war yet winston’s not doing anything SAME
jules is just scooching by lol
HAND HOLDING WHILE PASSING A NOTE OMG ♥♥
the sky does exist! :o
the telescreen has some great music :D
winston’s joining the ‘big man’s hiking group’ suure you are... ;)
the train is going to the beat of the kids’ singing coolio! :D
big brother is called ‘bb’ yas bby!
YEEES THE I WANT YOU VALLEY SCEENE!!!!!
the lq audio made the twig crack and the leave brushing really weird lol
winston: “i want you.” I-CON-IC!!!! :D
THAT SMIRK THO
winston: “i want everyone corrupt.” julia: “i’ll suit you, then. i’m corrupt to the core.” *mal screech*
OH NONONONOONO SHE GONNA TAKE HER TOP OFF BI PANIC BI PANICCC!!!!!
she really went commando huh
ALL THE WAY
the sex looks like it hurts NO WAY MAN NOT FOR ME NNNNOPE
i’m glad it was only a part you couldn’t really see and not a full on thing I DON’T NEED THAT
awww she’s so peaceful after big naughty :)
this is vaguely gay...
aww winston’s hair ruffling in the wind ♥
c r o n c h
also did he just cronch into a potato???
OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE SCHOOL
teacher: “when the orgasm is finally eradicated...” totally julia: “NOT ON MY WATCH”
winston is the kid who smokes in glass while julia is the one kid who Just Doesn’t Care lol :D
thoughtcrime THIS IS THOTCRIME
wow syme is still alive?
julia: “you dropped your ink pencil” you mean pen?
winnie’s back in prescott! :D
the room is 4 bucks a night noice B)
BACC TO THE H8 BBY
the modern say 2 minutes hate is probably just a livestream with kids texting ‘h8 xd’ in the chat lol :D
winston’s thoughts: “she who is so careful...” boi she threw a dictionary at the telescreen in the book THAT’S SO NOT CAREFUL
hey girl CUTE LQ SMILE YOU HAVE THERE!!! :D
YAS THE REAL COFFEE SCENE!!!!! :D
she has so many smiles YAS!!!!
she’s so eager with showing him I LOVE YOU SO MUCH JULES ♥♥♥
she says ‘real sugar, real bread’ and... jam
winston: “how did you manage to get all this?” jules has her ways... ;)
winston: “i want you” julia: “i want you too” YAS :D ♥♥
the thiccc singer is here!! :D
she’s so pretty! ♥
aww the stroke ♥
his hands are shaking as he touches her :(
winston: “freedom is the freedom to say two plus two equals four. if that is granted, all else follows” iconic!
YAS THE PAPER!!! :D
it be gin time ;)
he scratches the face off the gin bottle woah :o
I JUST REALIZED THAT THIS IS O’BRIEN :o
winston’s little ‘yes!’ at getting the 10th newspeak dictionary ♥
that’s a look of longing my friends! :o
winston: “the call has come. all my life i’ve been waiting for it...” and now he’ll go into the unknown... ;)
AAND we cut to naked julia eating an apple! slight bi panic
she’s touching the paperweight queen love it ♥
SHE KNOWS THE CLEMENS YAS!!! :D
julia: “i just know it!” BOI YOUR G-PA HELPED OUT
winston: “the only thing to do is to walk out of here before it’s too late” thus my ‘julia lives’ au comes in! :D
winston: “never seen one another again” ...oh he was talking about that NOT IN MY AU SON
julia: “you do, i do.” omg marriage :o
YAAAS JULSTON KISS!!!!!!! :D
fluffy! ♥
julia: “i love you.” awww :)
winston: “julia. do you think the resistance is real?” julia: “none of it’s real.” STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER!
♥
OMFG THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION :o
work is scrambling like eggs!
poor headache bby! :(
epic B)
winston’s dreaming of his bishy selfish chocolate mom adventure!
the rats were there when his mom and sister were vaporized! :o
she’s in the dress! ♥
they’re talking about betrayal and julia’s like ‘they can’t do that!” OH BOI BUT THEY CAN!!!!
julia: “they can’t get to your heart” aww :)
awkward...
winston sees o’brien WITHOUT JULIA THE F????
this feels like the principal’s office lol :D
o’brien’s voice is so deep and british ♥
the way he clutches the newspeak dictionary is so cute! :D
aww he’s stroking the pages as he reads :)
the oceania anthem sounds russian :o
YAAAAAAAASSSS!!!!!!! :D
so soft ♥♥
winston: “julia, my love.” MY LOVE MY LOVE AHHH!!!! :D
YEES THE COFFEE SMILEEE!!!!! :D
she’s hungry... she wants coffee... who’s gonna tell her coffee isn’t food?
omg i saw winston butt :o
:)
winston: “she’s beautiful.” julia: “she’s a meter around the hips easily” winston: “that’s her standard of beauty.” YAAAS!!! :D
winston: “the future is ours.” YAS
OH CRAP THEY SAID ‘WE ARE THE DEAD’ NOOOO
mr. charington is loud compared to how i thought in the book
his ‘you are the dead’ should’ve been quieter like winston and julia’s then he could be loud!
FBI OPEN UP!!!!!
charrington: “here comes a candle to guide you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head!” OHHHH NICE ONE MR C!!!!!! :D
RIP TO A QUEEN :’(
i should be a bit more heartbroken BUT THAT MR C RHYME MAN
OMFG THEY JUST BEAT UP JULES
SHE’S IN SO MUCH PAIN NOOOO :’(
why does he look old
awww :(
delete the drunk old lady BUT GIVE US PARSONS SUUURE
i dread the scene to come...
parsons didn’t say that he said ‘down with big brother’ so that’s a bummer :/
aww poor parsons he’s crying! :(
oh SNAP room 101!!!! :o
poor parsons but at least that scene wasn’t a thing!
OUCH THAT SMACC LOOKED LIKE IT HURT
is this leading into the bloody mouth scene? I STILL NEED TO KNOW WHAT THAT IS
winston doesn’t know where he is IT’S THE I WANT YOU VALLEY!!!
hold up this is just a vision ok BUT WHERE’S THE BLOODY MOUTH SCENE
frankenstein and spirit halloween called!
also o’brien flipped the switch without warning BISH
o’brien: “you suffer from a defective memory” and you suffer from a BISH MEMORY SIR
remember winston it’s all in the mind... ;)
WHY DID O’BRIEN SHOCK WINSTON HE SAID FIVE
'how many fingers’ is a trick question because winston sees four YET WE SEE FIVE OHHH
mother gothel vibes...
awww winston’s little scared squeak :(
winston: “i don’t know... i don’t know!” SAY FIVE WINSTON SAY FIVEEEEE
o’brien’s voice is so calming yet it spouts evil words...
julia immediately betrayed winston BECAUSE SHE HAD A ROSEMARY KENNEDY yet she’s somehow still alive without damage by the end???
ooh a new shot! :D
they just faded to black and showed a new angle which is a bit weird...
o’brien: “you’re thinking that my face is old and tired...” because it belongs to poor richard burton!
o’brien just yoinked winston’s tooth out tho :o
mother gothel strikes again!
winston to o’brien: “i love you.” you don’t say that back to jules YET YOU SAY IT TO O’BRIEN BOIIIII
o’brien: “you’re one of us. one of the chosen.” one of us gooble gobble! also ANAKIN IS THAT YOU????
winston just said ‘i love you’ oMG OMG OM WAIT WWAIIITIT
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
seconds after she says ‘i love you too’ SHE’S FREAKING SHOT DAAANG NO PUNCHES PULLED BACK!!!!!
aww he called her ‘my love’ even in a dream
so that was the infamous bloody mouth scene and it was quicker than i thought it would be? at least i have a bright julia smile! ♥
OMG winston’s calling for her yet it sounds so weird WHYYY
he’s much improved!
they’re skyping lol
after all he’s been through he still hates bb! :o
ROOM 101 :o
room 101 is a personalized experience just for you! :D
also IT’S A DREAM MIRROR
omg the rats are GOING AT EACH OTHER GEEZ
winston’s squeak at the rats no!!! :(
‘do it to julia’ sounds a bit selfish but it’s the betrayal we’ve been waiting for!
...NOT
uh oh here comes the awkward reunion...
they should’ve said “...sup.” to each other
the bartender saying “on the house!’ tiredly each time is great :D
winston: “thank you for coming.” julia in her thoughts: “yeah whateves bro.” :/
at least they can still bond over something :)
jules gin time ;)
they ratted out on each other true love???
julia: “we must meet again.” winston: “yes, we must meet again.” ...they never met again
but if they did it would be a bro time!
winston: “i have seduced party members of both sexes” BI NANI???? :o
since his crimes are like the guy’s from earlier... what if he didn’t do them and was convinced that he did? :o
in the book he says i love you to bb, but here he turns away and says it... what if he still loves julia? :o
and with that question, the movie has come to a close! it’s a fantastic little film that closely follows the book. while i would’ve liked to see julia with winston at o’brien’s and the drunk jail lady, the cutting of the gross parsons scene, the addtion of the bloody mouth scene and the possibly hopeful ending make up for it. overall, this is an amazing adaptation of such a great book! :D
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1095
survey by pinkchocolate
What was last film/TV show you watched, that starred an attractive actor? Erm Friends, I guess, since it’s all I watch these days. My biggest crush is on Courteney Cox, though I first gained a crush on her from watching Scream and not Friends.
When was the last time you had a bowl of soup? What flavour? If we’re talking of just a bowl of soup, probably in March last year when I had that Yabu dinner with Gab - meals there come with a bowl of miso soup. But a couple of months ago my dad made laksa for dinner; I slurped the leftover soup after I finished the noodles and other toppings.
Do you have any tinned foods in your cupboard at the moment? Yeah, we have a lot. It’s a cheaper alternative and generally, it lasts longer.
Have you ever worked with someone named Julie? What was she like? I don’t think so. Can’t remember anyone from school, either.
What foods have you been craving lately, if any? I craved shawarma yesterday but I was able to get it, woooo. Right now, my macaron craving is still going pretty strong.
What was the last savoury snack you ate? Salt and vinegar chips. LOL funny story on this - I originally planned Christmas gifts for Gabie, back when I was still hung up on her. I put in a lot of effort (and money) into the presents, which included several bags of chips. The whole gift bag has stayed in my room since December because I could never figure out the right time to have it sent. Eventually I started to get over the whole thing, and I since have not felt the need to give any of the contents to her. This means gradually eating the food I initially bought for her, lmfao. The salt and vinegar chips were the first to go yesterday.
What was the last sweet snack you ate? I had a doughnut from Dunkin’ the other night. I hate filled doughnuts, but the only other option in the box was choco butternut and I’m pretty sick of that flavor already, so filled doughnut it was.
What was the last food item that you tried for the first time? It was the same filled doughnut. It had chocolate glaze on top with vanilla filling.
^ How was it? It was fine; I liked it mainly because of the chocolate glaze. The filling wasn’t bad, but I’d still look for other doughnuts if there were any.
Does anyone in your family have green eyes? Nope.
Have you ever known anyone named Phyllis? What was she like? Nah, but this just reminds me of the Friends episode where Phoebe was writing a self-help book using Chandler and Monica as subjects, but renamed them as Chester and Marsha; when they found out about it Monica got back at her by writing her own book, but using Phoebe as a subject and renaming her Phyllis hahaha. I love how there’s a Friends episode for nearly every situation.
What was the name of your first ever pet? I think I had just named it Goldie, because it was a goldfish.
Where was the last place you went out for lunch? What did you order? I don’t really go out for lunch, not even during the pre-Covid days. Dinner was always my favorite meal and I preferred treating myself then. I should do this more often, now that I think of it.
Where was the last place you went for an evening meal? What did you order? It’s a Korean restaurant called Geonbae. It was unlimited Korean meat, noodles, side dishes and also unlimited sashimi so let’s just say I had a bunch of different food.
Have you Googled anything today? What? I had to Google ‘laksa’ just to check if I got the name of the dish right in the soup question earlier.
What do you like to eat for breakfast these days? Uh, water? Haha I skip breakfast nearly every day. When my family has breakfast together every weekend, I don’t really look forward to any particular food anymore.
Is anyone in your family a nurse? Not in my immediate family, but yes we have several nurses in my extended family (cousins, aunts, great-aunts, and uncles).
Do you like to wear lipstick? What colours do you think suit you best? I don’t wear makeup.
Who was the last person to recommend a book to you? People in my circle know I don’t really read, so I’ve never been anyone’s first choice when it comes to with whom to share recommendations. The last one I can remember was my Aunt Claire, but that was probably at least two years ago when we briefly talked on chat.
What colour is your shirt? Any pictures, patterns or wording on it? It’s a plain olive green sleeveless top.
Name something you own that is green. The notebook I was given from my first internship.
Do you know anyone named Sally? What about Sidney? None for either name.
Have you ever heard anyone talk in their sleep? Yes.
^ If so, do you remember what they said? Yes. But it was my ex, so you’re not getting anything more than a yes because that’s all I’m willing to answer this late into the breakup.
Who was the last person to tease or joke around with you, in a friendly way? Angela.
What was the last beverage you drank from a mug? Coffee.
Are there any framed photos in your living room? Yeah. Well, technically, they’re positioned on the stairs but our stairs are in the general living room area.
Is there a jar of peanut butter in your house? Yes, my dad likes peanut butter so we always have a stock.
Are there any foods that you loved as a child, but wouldn't eat now? I don’t think so. The opposite happened since my palate was very limited as a kid; there’s a number of food I wouldn’t touch before, that I love now.
Give me a fruit or vegetable that starts with the same letter as your name. Radish.
Look around the room - can you see any objects that are orange? I’m in a car with my family on the way to Tagaytay, but I’m not sure if we have anything that’s orange here.
What brand is your facial moisturiser? I don’t use anything to clean my face other than classic H2O.
What brand was the last lipstick you wore? I also don’t wear makeup.
Does anyone you know own a tabby cat? How about a cocker spaniel? I probably do, butttt I don’t really like cats so I don’t keep track of my friends who have one. I’m not sure if I know anyone with a cocker spaniel.
What was the last book you read for the first time? Some PR book I needed to read for work.
^ What did you think of it? It was mostly an unnecessary read given that I already know most of the stuff that got covered, but I still finished the whole thing in case my employer will ask me about the book.
When was the last time you ate cheesecake? Not since June/Julyish when my uncle made me my favorite cheesecake as a graduation present.
Do you have blinds or curtains in your bedroom? What colour are they? I have blinds; they’re off-white.
What was the last beverage you tried for the first time? Coconut water, I think.
^ How was it? Terrible.
Who was the last person that said you were beautiful? I posted a new profile photo on Facebook and got some compliments, but I’m not sure about the last person who commented.
To you, what makes a person beautiful? What they do or think when no one’s looking.
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From Left Field
Fandom: Marvel (Single Parent AU)
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader
As requested by anonymous: I just got back from taking my son to the park and I saw a guy there that reminded me of a chubby Bucky. Now I'm just imagining chubby Bucky falling for a mother. It would be the sweetest thing in the world and he would be such a wonderful stepdad!
A/N: this is gonna be a 3 part series! that’s it! NO tags! (except for @cametobuyplums )
You walked with Mason, his tiny hand in yours, as you approached the playground. He was your little mini me, the love of your life. Sure, things didn’t work out with his dad, your ex, but it didn’t matter. You loved Mason with all that you had.
“Mommy?” the four year old looked up at you with curiosity.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Can I go on the slides?”
“Of course, Mase. C’mon!” you excitedly tugged him towards the slides and he followed you excitedly, his adorable giggle reaching your ears and bringing a big smile to your face.
__________________________
Bucky jogged around the park once more. This was, what, his sixth or seventh lap? He honestly wasn’t counting. He was exhausted but he needed to get rid of the weight he’s gained. He just-He just has to.
With his headphones on and hoodie covering his head, he’s pushing through another lap. His body is aching and he’s sweating like crazy. You can do this, Bucky. You got this. He thinks to himself.
His eyes glance at the playground and then back on the path. But something catches his eye, better yet, someone. As he continues jogging by, he watches as you descend down a slide with a little boy on your lap. Your son perhaps. His giggles and the smile on your face causes him to smile at the sight. It’s a cute sight...a very cute one indeed.
As if feeling his gaze on you, you look up and Bucky immediately looks away. He’s kind of happy that he’s so red and sweaty already, so you don’t know that his cheeks are actually heating up more from you catching him.
Just pay attention on jogging, Bucky.
__________________________
About thirty minutes go by and you’re pushing Mason on the swings now. Every time he comes your way, you tickle him and he’s laughing as he swings away.
“Stop it, mommy! It tickles!”
“That’s why I keep doing it!” you wiggle your fingers towards him and he squeals, trying to escape the torturous tickles.
Rrring! Rrring! “Ice creeeaam!” a man with an ice cream cart yells.
Mason’s eyes widen and he looks at you, “Ice cweam, mommy! Can we get ice cweam?!”
You chuckle at your excited little boy, “Of course, baby.” you help him off the swing and he bolts over to the ice cream cart, with you rushing after him.
He’s bouncing excitedly as he looks at the options on the cart. Then he spots one, “Ninja Turtle! Ninja Turtle!”
“That’s what you want, buddy?” he nods and you smile at the man, “Hi. Can I get a ninja turtle and a choco taco please?” the man tells you the price and you hand him the money. He then gives you the Ninja Turtle popsicle and you open it, handing it off to mason.
“Yay!”
“Mason, what do you say?”
“Tenk yooouu!” he says to the man and immediately chomps into the popsicle. You snort at your son’s savagery. As soon as Mason turns around, he bumps into someone and then drops his popsicle, “Oh no! Mommy!”
You look up after putting away your wallet and rush over to Mason, “Oh sweetie, you gotta be careful!”
You look up and your eyes meet striking blue ones. You clear your throat and give a shy smile, “I’m sorry about my son,” you look at his hoodie and see a stain Mason’s popsicle left, “And your hoodie.”
The man gulps and shakes his head, “N-No, it’s, uh, it’s my fault.” he waves his phone in his hand, “Wasn’t looking.”
You shrugged, “Nonetheless, I’m sorry.” you run your hand through Mason’s hair, “Whaddaya say, buddy?”
Mason looks up at the man with teary eyes, “I’m sowwy, mister.”
The man crouches down to be eye level with your son, a soft smile on his lips, “Hey, it’s alright, buddy. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I wasn’t looking where I was going. What’s your name?”
Your son rubs his eye, “Mason.”
The man nods and then looks down at the pavement to the now melting Ninja Turtle popsicle, “How ‘bout I get you a new one, Mason? Would you like that?”
You immediately step forward, “Oh! That’s alright! I could just-”
He shakes his head, “No, no. I’ll get him a new one since it’s my fault his is on the ground now.” he shoots you a smile and walks over to the ice cream man. You watch as he hands over the money and accepts the popsicle, thanking the man and heading back your way.
You quickly take notice of the man’s handsome face, toned legs, and chubby stomach. He was quite the looker.
He smiles widely and hands Mason the popsicle, “Here ya go, buddy!”
Mason immediately smiles, snatching the frozen treat of out the man’s hand, “Thank you!”
You help him open it up and hand it back to him. Mason, once again, chomping into the popsicle. You snort and then look back at the man, “You really didn’t need to do that. Thank you...”
“Bucky.”
“Thank you, Bucky.”
He shrugged, “It’s no problem...”
“Oh! Y/N! Sorry, I’m Y/N!” you extend your hand out and he shakes it.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. You and your husband are great parents. Mason’s a good kid.”
You nod, “Thanks, but I’m not married. Or dating. Just me and Mason, but it’s okay. The single parent thing ain’t all that bad. Staying at home eating mac and cheese and coloring on while your friends are out having fun on Friday nights? Great!” you exclaim sarcastically, making Bucky chuckle, “But seriously,” you rest your hand on Mason’s head, “I don’t really mind it. I love this lil’ booger to death.”
Bucky smiles fondly as Mason, who is in his own little world with just him and his Ninja Turtle popsicle, “Yeah. I don’t know you, but I could tell you’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you, Bucky.”
He then bites his lip in hesitation, suddenly rocking back and forth on his feet, “Um, sorry, if this is a bit random, but, uh, would you like to go out for coffee or lunch sometime? I just-I don’t know. I’d like to get to know you.”
“Oh, um,” you look down at Mason, who’s still not paying attention to anything but the popsicle and then at Bucky, “I’m not really looking to date right now, Bucky. My ex and I-”
Bucky shook his head, “No, no. It doesn’t even have to be a date or anything. We could just chat and get to know each other as friends. IF you’re comfortable with that.” he adds.
You tilt your head to the side thinking about it and then you smile, “Yeah. Actually, I’ll take you up on that offer. I need more friends anyway.”
Bucky’s face lights up, “Great! Uh,” he pulls out his phone, “Shall we swap numbers?”
“Right! Of course!” you pull out your own phone, unlocking it and handing it to Bucky. With his in hand, you enter in your phone number and hand it back to him. You then accept yours after he’s done the same, “Well, thank you, again, Bucky for getting Mason a new popsicle.”
He shrugged, “Again, no problem.” he crouches down and looks at Mason, “Hey, Mason. It was nice meeting you. Can I get a high five?”
Mason smiles and high fives Bucky with a sticky green hand. You snicker as Bucky stands up and wipes his hand on his shorts, “Should’ve seen that comin’.”
You nod, “Yeah. You should’ve.” you then ask Mason, “What do you say to Bucky for the popsicle?”
“Tenk you, Bucky!”
“You’re welcome, Mason.” he nods at the four year old and then nods at you, “So just call or text me to let me know whenever you’re free. I’m free most afternoons, so any day should really be fine.”
“I’m usually free Friday through Sunday.”
“Alright, well, I guess I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”
“I’ll be waiting,” you grin and watch as Bucky says good-bye to Mason one last time, giving a little wave. Mason waves, melted parts of his popsicle flying off. You snort, “Alright, buddy. After you finish your popsicle, we’re gonna go home and give you a bath, m’kay?”
“Okay, mommy!”
__________________________
Bucky was practically skipping when he entered the apartment that he shared with his friend Sam. Sam easily took notice of Bucky’s good mood.
“What’s got you all happy and skippy?”
Bucky plops himself onto the couch beside Sam, “I got someone’s number today.”
Sam scoffed, “Dude, no way.”
“I’m serious! Her name is Y/N, she’s so beautiful, and she has a kid-”
“YOU GOT A MILF’S NUMBER?!”
Bucky smacked Sam on the head, “Don’t call her a MILF! That’s disgusting, man!”
Sam frowned as he rubbed his head, glaring at Bucky, “What, so you don’t wanna fuck her?”
He looked at him with disbelief, “Can you quit talking about her like that? And it’s not that I don’t-”
“So you did meet a MILF!”
“Sam, I’m warning you. Quit calling Y/N a MILF!”
“Fine! Okay! Jeez! Go on.”
Bucky settled and got comfortable on couch, “As I was saying: I met Y/N at the park and I bumped into her son, Mason, and he dropped his popsicle. So I bought him a new one and her and I started talking and eventually, I got her number.”
“So you gonna ask her on a date?”
Bucky sighed, “It won’t be a date, per se, she’s not looking to be with anyone right now.”
Sam grimaced, “Yikes.”
“I know, but, I mean, I still wanna get to know her, ya know? She seemed really sweet, kind, a good mom. Her son’s really great too.”
Sam shook his head, “This sounds bad, man. I don’t think you should get caught up in some woman who’s not looking to date and has a kid. You’re just gonna end up getting hurt.”
“It’s not like that, Sam. She seems nice! And you said I needed to make new friends anyway!”
He shrugged, “Whatever, Bucky. I warned you.”
__________________________
Two days later is when you got a text from Bucky in the late evening.
Bucky: Hey, Y/N. It’s Bucky.
Bucky: Wait. You already knew that.
Bucky: Sorry, I’m dumb.
Bucky: Anyway, I’m texting you right now because I just got to work and looked at my schedule. I’m free next Friday and Saturday. Are either of those days okay with you?
You looked at the time and saw that it was nearing midnight. You were confused.
You: Wait. It’s midnight and you just got into work?
Bucky: Yeah. I’m a security guard Brooklyn Hospital. Graveyard shift.
You: Oh. That makes sense.
You: And Saturday is a better day for me to get a babysitter. So that day will work.
Bucky: Great! How about we meet up Maximoff’s Cafe in Queens?
You: Actually, that’s perfect! One of my babysitters is from there, so I could probably just drop Mason off there!
Bucky: Awesome! I’ll see you then. ;)
____________________________
“Why did I put a winky face?!” Bucky quietly hissed at himself from the check-in desk in the lobby. He meant to just put a regular smiley face, “Now she’s gonna think you’re trying to date her?!”
Thus began Bucky’s internal anxious monologue.
She said she wasn’t looking to date anyone, Bucky! You fucked up!
But maybe if she knows you’re interested, she’ll eventually change her mind about dating. Woo her. Make her swoon. Show her that you’re worthy for her and Mason.
Dude...no. Respect her decision to not being open to date right now! Just get to know her in a friendly way and that’s it!
You: I’ll see you then! ;D
Oh shit...she put a winky face and an open mouth smiley face! She totally wants to bang you.
Can you just..shut up?
I’m trying to help him get laid! Not many women like to go for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!
Low blow, man...low blow.
Bucky groans and lets his head fall onto the desk in frustration.
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Who’ll give in first? - Pt 4
PARTS : 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Final
“Hello?” Kino said, answering the phone on his way to home from his last class.
“Can you come over?” Jiwon said and he sighed.
“Still no sign of him?”
“He’s still at Changgu’s I suppose. Can you bring ice-cream?” he smiled.
“Choco chip?” he asked. She agreed and he ended the call, turning around to go to her house, stopping to buy ice cream and a couple of donuts for her. Apparently, Jiwon gets a sweet tooth when she’s sad.
Hongseok hadn’t come home since the Sunday and it was Friday already, he’ll come when she won’t be home and leave before her classes would be over. He also skipped the classes he shared with her and won’t respond to her calls or messages. She had been asking him to come over a lot because she wasn’t used to being alone at their apartment. He wanted to be happy about it but it was hard when it was written on her face how much she missed Hongseok.
He rang the bell and the door opened in a few seconds revealing a Jiwon with a small smile on her face.
“You wanna have a harry potter marathon or marvel one? Or shall we watch a series?” she said walking in and him following behind.
“I don’t know. Let’s watch something we can bash while watching. Scary movies series?”
She turned around to him gave him a huge smile and they settled down.
After watching 2 movies, they were done with the donuts and the ice cream, she laid down with her head in his lap and he started combing his fingers through them and she sighed.
“You purr like a kitten like that.” He said and chuckled and she smiled.
“Hongseok used to call me kitten because of that.” She said and sighed.
“Why don't you call Changgu and warn him or something that you’ll come over if he won’t?” Kino said and she looked at him.
“Do you think it’ll work?” she asked, sitting up.
“I don’t know, but you should at least try right?” he said and she nodded. Picking up her phone and sitting nervously on the couch, she dialled Changgu’s number.
“Hello?” he picked up on the fourth ring and she could hear the sound of television in the background.
“Hey Changgu. Is Hongseok there?”
“Uhh.. He just left. Anything important?” he said and she sighed. She was pretty sure he was nearby but simply avoiding her but she can’t blame Changgu either for doing that.
“Just tell him that he needs to stop throwing a tantrum like a child and come home tomorrow. Or else I’m coming over to yours and not going back until I see him, alright?” she lashed out completely in one breath and heard a chuckled passing through Kino’s lips.
“Okay okay I will. See ya Jiwon-ah.” Changgu said and the phone call ended.
~
Changgu ended the call and looked at the guy in question lying in front of him on his couch, sulking.
“You need to go home tomorrow or else she’ll be here.”
“I can just leave to somewhere else.” He said, not looking up at him.
“Just go back. She’s obviously worried and you can’t just keep on avoiding her forever.” Changgu said, frustratedly running his fingers though his hair.
“Fine. But I don’t want to face her alone so you all need to come too.” He said, “But I promise I’ll talk to her after.” He added, knowing Changgu would protest if he hadn’t said that.
“Cool. I’ll call Hui, Wooseok and Kino.”
Hongseok looked up at Changgu and pouted. “I don’t want Kino there.”
Changgu looked at him with a bored expression, “I can just see why Jiwon calls you a child. Grow up Hongseok.” He said and started typing a message on their group chat to go to Hongseok’s the next day while Hongseok just sat their grumbling about how he was not a child and they were just being mean.
Kino was the first one to reply and said he’ll see them there while Wooseok and Hui said they’ll come over in the morning.
~
Hongseok entered the pin of his apartment, laughing at something Hui said and opened the door when he saw Kino peeking out from the kitchen to wave at them.
“You’re here! Jiwon is in the shower, she’ll be out soon.” He said coming over to them.
“What are you doing here? How early did you come?” Hui asked and Kino shrugged. “I crashed here last night. We were watching a movie and it was late and she said she doesn’t like being alone so I stayed.”
Hongseok went past him into the kitchen mumbling “Talk about trying to take my place.” When they all heard Jiwon yelling from her room, “Kino!! Is Hongseok home?”
“Yeah!” Kino yelled back, going to the living room with everyone to set up the game they were planning to play.
“Seok-ah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” she yelled again and he sighed in the kitchen.
“Would my saying no actually stop you?” he yelled back and then heard her yell a thank you and he chuckled.
He was just getting out of the kitchen to go to the living room when he saw the back of her going into his room, clad only in a towel and he shook his head. Then he turned around to check if anyone else saw her like that and sighed in relief when he saw he was the only one.
10 minutes later she walked in the living room in his t-shirt, reaching her mid thighs and almost becoming a dress and thigh highs socks which made Hongseok choke on the beer he was drinking.
She smiled at Kino who gave her a thumbs up, the idea of the outfit being his only. “Kino, do you think I should get a haircut?” she asked, twirling her waist length hair around her fingers.
He shrugged. “I don't know. Dye it maybe?” he said and she hummed in response, going to the kitchen while Changgu elbowed Hongseok to follow her. Truth was, he wanted to talk to her too but somehow that outfit of hers was affecting him a bit too much and he was concerned that he might end up doing something again and then avoid her.
He went into the kitchen and saw her standing, leaning on the table.
“What’s with the socks?” he asked and she looked up at him from her phone.
“My feet were cold.” She said and went back to her phone.
“Also, what is with that outfit? You’re wearing shorts under it right?” he asked and she looked up at him and smirked, phone now locked and kept behind her on the table.
“Are you talking to me now?”
“Stop avoiding the question. Shorts?” he asked again and she signalled him to come closer with her finger. “Why don’t you come and check for yourself?”
He turned around to peek outside at the boys, all engrossed in the game and looked back at her. “You’re just messing with me.”
“I am not. You’re the one constantly obsessed with my outfits. So I’m telling you, go ahead, and check it.” She said, slightly lifting the bottom of the t-shirt up and his eyes went directly to it.
He had a small mental debate in his head but eventually went to her, standing in front of her, oh so close to feel her every breath, he placed his hands on her thighs where his t-shirt ended and slid his hands upwards under the t-shirt. He groaned when he felt only the band of her panties and he hid his head in her neck.
“I swear to god you’re gonna be the death of me” he mumbled and felt her shiver slightly. He pulled at the bands a bit, “its lace isn’t it?” he asked. “Maybe?” he heard her saying and sighed.
Suddenly he looked up at her, “what were you even thinking though? Wearing something like this when you knew so many boys were coming over?”
“I don’t actually have to get your permission to wear something Hongseok. I can wear whatever I want.” She said and he clicked his tongue, pulling back from her and staring her down.
“Remember, you left me no choice” he said and fell on his knees in front of her, looking up at her to see her staring at him, wide-eyed. He pulled her close with her t-shirt and she stumbled those two steps closer to him. He then grabbed her left thigh from the back and leaned his face closer, to give her a kiss, just below where the t-shirt ended. He left a trail of few kisses to maybe 2-3 inches below the t-shirt and then bit her. Bit her thighs and sucked a bit to leave a mark. He looked up when she gasped, only to wink at her and stare at her red face. They heard Wooseok calling for him from outside and he pulled back only to respond with how he’ll be there in a minute.
He looked at the mark he left with a look of appreciation for his work and stood up, walking closer to her to crowd her against the table. “Are you gonna wear shorts now?” he asked, tucking a few strand of her hairs behind her ears and she looked away.
He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “You should stop teasing me like this now.” And bit her earlobe slowly, making her gasp again and turn to look at him.
Suddenly, he turned her around with her front towards the table and pressed her down on it. He pushed her t-shirt upwards, revealing the pink laced panties for his eyes. He growled lowly and bent forward and grabbing her ass with both of his hands and said, “The next time I see you wearing these, I seriously will tear them off you. Remember that.” And got off her.
Slowly she turned around to look at him grinning at her. He saw her dilated pupils and leaned close to her to peck her on her lips. He then petted her on her head and whispered softly to her, “Be a good girl for me now and go change okay?” and left when she nodded.
~
15 minutes later, Jiwon came back wearing a pair of sweatpants under his t-shirt and he smiled at her and patted the place next to him which she took with a soft blush on her face. She looked up at Kino and saw him giving her a tight-lipped smile. She wanted to ask him what’s wrong, wanted to mull over it but then Hongseok snaked his arm around her and started talking to her about the game and sadly, it slipped her mind.
#pentagon#hongseok#yang hongseok#pentagon scenario#hongseok scenario#yang hongseok scenario#pentagon smut#hongseok smut#yang hongseok smut#kino#kang hyunggu#kino angst#i am so sorry to all kino stans#i swear i love him too#wooseok#hui#changgu#yeo one
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how to pop the question
hey so life's been keeping me busy lately and im still gonna be crazy swamped with stuff to do so instead of doing chapter 5 of the seamstress au like i originally planned, im gonna write this lil (okay i mean very very long) one shot instead!! this is based on this post by @buginetta i hope you dont mind!! and hope i didnt go overboard??
---
"Alyaaaaaaaaa! Help me! What if he's never gonna ask?!"
This is how Marinette found herself one fine evening after a long day at work. Eating ice cream, in her most comfy pjs, and facetiming her best friend while questioning her relationship with her boyfriend.
"Oh come on, M! You and Adrien are like, heads over heels for each other. Everyone can literally feel the cheesiness from 10 miles away," Alya dismissed quickly, trying to get it in her bestie's head that she has nothing to worry about. Typical Mari.
You see, Marinette and Adrien had been dating for almost 10 years, since they accidentally detransformed in front of each other when they were 15. They've been inseparable. Glued to the hip, literally.
And when both were well into university, Adrien brought up the idea of marriage. They both knew that this was it. They were endgame as everyone says. But Marinette, ever the one to think ahead, wanted to wait till their studies were completed and to be financially stable. Adrien complied, never bringing it up again.
Back to present time, Marinette groaned into her pillow. This happened countless of times before, so Alya was used to the sudden "over-thinking about non-existent crisis" calls as she calls them, OTANEC calls for short. Just Marinette having her usual of nonsensical thoughts, non-stop spiralling with a dose of crazy on the side. Ordinary stuff.
"If you really, so desperately want to be engaged with Sunshine already then you should propose. Really, you shouldn't have to wait for guys to propose."
"Omg Alya yes! That's a great idea!"
"Of course cuz it's mine."
"You're the best!"
"I know."
"Thank you!!"
"Yea, yea but you better let me in on your plan."
"Deal."
---
Two weeks flew by. Marinette was ready so sweep her kitty off his feet--mostly. There was still the pre-proposal jitters that she just cant shake off. She's triple checked everything. Twice! The location, weather(Please be accurate, I'm begging you.), all the itty bitty details. The only thing that can possibly go wrong is an Akuma. Honestly, Hawkmoth doesn't have a schedule or something. Heroes need their beauty sleep and as students their grades! (Thankfully there wasn't one. Thank you Hawkmoth.)
Tick. 6pm: Marinette's pacing. Tikki watches her from her perch beside a stack of cookies. She wishes she could help but Marinette's not gonna listen in her state of creating a road in her bedroom floor . The girl pleads for time to go by faster, faster, faster!
Tock. 6:09pm: Her heart is racing. She opens up her messages again and again, making sure he knows there's a joint patrol tonight. Everytime she sees his reply from 2 night ago, she sighs in relief. Only to open it again a minute later.
Tick. 6:24pm: Hands are shaking, her panic's awaking. Tock. Alya reassures her that everything is fine, but she's like a bomb in a mine.
Tick. 6.50pm: She checks her pocket, where the little black box hides. Tock. She checks again, her thoughts now violent tides. Restless, antsy, going out of her mind. Nervous, rapid breathing, her head's screaming is all she can find. Doubt. Dread. Doom. Oh why, oh why, can't it be just-
Ding! 7pm. The time has arrived. Marinette transforms and races out of the house to do her rounds on her half of the city. She finishes in 10 minutes, a new personal record. She couldn't care less though. There's the weight of her future in her pocket that's just suddenly so heavy. She starts pacing again, waiting for her partner to arrive. Oh gosh, he's taking too long. I'm gonna explode!
Thud. Chat Noir sees his girlfriend and his day just got a hundred times better.
"Wow bugaboo, I've never seen you finish a patrol so fast! What's u-"
But there's something wrong. She's a nervous wreck tonight, eyes impossibly wide with doubt. In fact, her finishing her patrol this quickly probably was the result of it. His cat ears flatten against his messy hair and his expression shifts to one of concern.
"Princess?" He hugs her, noting the way she tenses. As he tugs her down onto the rooftop with him, into his lap and still wrapped up in his warm arms, he asks, "Is everything okay?"
Two seconds passed, before Ladybug wriggles out of his embrace and begins her rambling. He's disappointed at the loss of her warmth, and he has no idea what she is saying as such a speed, but he has a fond smile anyway. God, I love this woman so much.
"And then you are here and look so handsom- Anyway, I have a question."
She pulls out the box, and Chat's eyes widens.
"I forgot my speech but the point is you make my life brighter and I feel like the luckiest human in the world." She opens the box. "Adrien-Chat Noir-Agreste, will you do this Ladybug the honour of marrying her?"
She never got a reply. Only a big, smug, I-won-the-lottery smile on his face, and he is bounding off in the general direction of... his apartment?
---
Ten minutes later, after a emotional roller coaster from confusion to heartbreak, even detransforming to ask Tikki to explain "Just waddaheck is going on?!", Marinette decided that he was not coming back and she was going to go home to cry about it over a tub of chocolate mint ice cream.
Just as she was about to say the magic words though, she sees a silhouette that she knows all too well jumping on rooftoos towards her. She held her tongue, waiting for an explanation for his sudden departure.
Clearly panting, Chat got on one knee and held up an open box. Marinette's vision blurred.
"Sorry i took so long, m'lady, but i had to dig this up from my drawer. Ahem." He clears his thoat and took a deep breath.
"Marinette-Ladybug-Dupain-Cheng. I have been waiting for the time that you are ready. Now that you are... You are the light on my darkest days, my hope, my life. I love you so much i cant express it with all the vocabulary in the French language. It would make this cat the luckiest man in the world if you would be willing to spend the rest of your life with this stray kitty cat. Marinette, Ladybug, m'lady, bugaboo, princess, will you marry me?"
With tears running down her face, Marinette tackled him. Both slipped the rings on each other's fingers, laughing as they shared a loving kiss. Adrien sweared that he will show it off to everyone he knows, even his fans on social media after a few days. Marinette just simply nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
"Let's go to my place to cuddle Chaton. I have a tub of mint choco ice cream waiting for me to devour in happiness. Don't worry, I know how much you love that flavour too so we can share."
And off they went to Marinette's apartment. Hopefully they remember to change some parts of their proposal story together before they tell anyone to prevent any identity reveals.
#mlb#miraculous ladybug#ml#miraculous#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#adrienette#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#ladynoir
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A handshake can quell political unrest and stifle impending war. It can, with a bit of spit, validate a gentleman’s agreement, end a years-long romantic relationship or send a young heart racing. But it all depends on the two parties involved.
Daisy, 21, felt a seismic jolt when Harry Styles, 25, wearing a striped jumper and rings on three of his five fingers, clutched her hand two days after this year’s Met Gala in New York, when she served him gelato at the shop where she worked.
“He decided on a small mint chocolate gelato and I made his and the one for his friend and I said, ‘Can I just say I absolutely loved your Met Gala look’ and he said ‘Thank you very much! What’s your name?’ And I said, ‘Daisy’ AND HE FUCKING EXTENDED HISHAND AND REACHED TO SHAKE MY HAND AND I ACTUALLY FUCKINGSHOOK HIS HAND WHAT THE FUCK,” she wrote on Instagram after The Shakening. “Like I didn’t even say anything to gas him up besides ‘I loved your met gala look’ and his fine ass went and shook my hand! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING HUMAN BEINGTHAT HE IS GOD BLESS HIM AND I HOPE HW [sic] LIVES FOREVER.”
For Harry Styles, a handshake can be a romantic gesture, conjuring a potent reverence in its recipient, like the time he met Gucci’s creative director Alessandro Michele. “He was as attractive as James Dean and as persuasive as Greta Garbo. He was like a Luchino Visconti character, like an Apollo: at the same time sexy as a woman, as a kid, as a man,” Michele told me, hastening to add: “Of course, Harry is not aware of this.”
No, Styles has no idea the power he wields. In person, he’s towering, like someone who is not that much taller but whose reputation adds four inches. Styles has a sedative baritone, spoken in a rummy northern English accent, that tumbles out so slowly you forget the name of your first born, a swagger that has been nursed and perfected in mythical places with names like Paisley Park, or Abbey Road, or Graceland. Makes complete sense that he would be up for the role of Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann’s upcoming biopic. He was primed, nay, born to shake his hips, all but one button on his shirt clinging for dear life around his torso. Then the part was awarded to another actor, Austin Butler.
“[Elvis] was such an icon for me growing up,” Styles tells me. “There was something almost sacred about him, almost like I didn’t want to touch him. Then I ended up getting into [his life] a bit and I wasn’t disappointed,” he adds of his initial research and preparations to play The King. He seems relaxed about losing the part to Butler. “I feel like if I’m not the right person for the thing, then it’s best for both of us that I don’t do it, you know?”
Styles released his self-titled debut solo album in May 2017. The boyband grad was clearly uninterested in hollowing out the charts with more formulaic meme pop. Instead, to the surprise of many, he dug his heels into retro-fetishist West Coast ’70s rock. Some of the One Direction fan-hordes might have been confused, but no matter: Harry Styles sold one million copies.
Despite its commercial and critical success, he didn’t tour the album right away. He wanted to act in the Christopher Nolan film Dunkirk. To his credit, his portrayal of a British soldier cowering in a moored boat on the French beaches as the Nazis advanced wasn’t skewered in the press like the movie debuts of, say, Madonna or Justin Timberlake. Perhaps he was following advice given by Elton John, who had urged him to diversify. “He was brilliant in Dunkirk, which took a lot of people by surprise,” John writes in an email. “I love how he takes chances and risks.” Acting, unlike music, is a release for Styles; it’s the one time he can be not himself.
“Why do I want to act? It’s so different to music for me,” he says, suddenly animated. “They’re almost opposite for me. Music, you try and put so much of yourself into it; acting, you’re trying to totally disappear in whoever you’re being.”
Following the news that he missed out on Presley, his name was floated for the role of Prince Eric in Disney’s live-action remake of The Little Mermaid. However, fans will have to wait a bit longer to see Styles on the big screen as that idea, too, has sunk. He won’t be The King or the Prince. “It was discussed,” he acknowledges before swiftly changing the subject. “I want to put music out and focus on that for a while. But everyone involved in it was amazing, so I think it’s going to be great. I’ll enjoy watching it, I’m sure.”
The new album is wrapped and the single is decided upon. “It’s not like his last album,” his friend, rock ‘n’ roll legend Stevie Nicks, told me recently over the phone. “It’s not like anything One Direction ever did. It’s pure Harry, as Harry would say. He’s made a very different record and it’s spectacular.”
Beyond that, Styles is keeping his cards close to his chest as to his next musical move. However, the air is thick with rumours that his main wingman for HS2 is Kid Harpoon, aka Tom Hull, who co-wrote debut album track Sweet Creature. No less an authority than Liam Gallagher told us that both big band escapees were in the same studio – RAK in north-west London – at the same time making their second solo albums. Styles played him a couple of tracks, “and I tell you what, they’re good,” Gallagher enthused. “A bit like that Bon Iver. Is that his name?”
Harry Styles met Nicks at a Fleetwood Mac concert in Los Angeles in April 2015. Something about him felt authentic to the legendary frontwoman: grounded, like she’d known him forever, blessed with a winning moonshot grin. A month later, they met backstage at another Mac gig, this time at the O2 in London. Styles brought a carrot cake for Nicks’ birthday, her name piped in icing on top. By her own admission, Nicks doesn’t even celebrate birthdays, so this was a surprise. “He was personally responsible for me actually having to celebrate my birthday, which was very sweet,” she says.
Styles’ relationship with Nicks is hard to define. Inducting her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York as a solo artist earlier this year, his speech hymned her as a “magical gypsy godmother who occupies the in-between”. She’s called him her “lovechild” with Mick Fleetwood and the “son I never had”. Both have moved past the preliminary chat acknowledging each other’s unquantifiable talents and smoothly accelerated towards playful cut-and-thrust banter of a witch mom and her naughty child.
They perform together – he sings The Chainand Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around; she sings the one allegedly written about Taylor Swift, Two Ghosts. One of those performances was at the Gucci Cruise afterparty in Rome in May, for “a lot of money”, Nicks tells me, in a “big kind of castle place”. She has become his de facto mentor – one phone call is all it takes to reach the Queen of Rock’n’Roll for advice on sequencing (“She is really good at track listing,” Styles admits) or just to hear each other’s voices… because, well, wouldn’t you?
Following another Fleetwood Mac concert, at London’s Wembley Stadium, in June, Nicks met Styles for a late (Indian) dinner. He then invited her back to his semi-detached Georgian mansion in north London for a listening party at midnight. The album – HS2or whatever it’ll be called – was finished. Nicks, her assistant Karen, her make-up artist and her friends Jess and Mary crammed onto Styles’ living-room couch. They listened to it once through in silence like a “bunch of educated monks or something in this dark room”. Then once again, 15 or 16 tracks, this time each of his guests offering live feedback. It wrapped at 5am, just as the sun was bleeding through the curtains.
Even for a pop star of Styles’ stature, pressing “play” on a deeply personal work for your hero to digest, watching her face react in real time to your new music, must be… what?
“It’s a double-edged thing,” he replies. “You’re always nervous when you are playing people music for the first time. You’ve heard it so much by this point, you forget that people haven’t heard it before. It’s hard to not feel like you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. You are happy with something and then someone who you respect so much and look up to is, like: ‘I really like this.’ It feels like a large stamp [of approval]. It’s a big step towards feeling very comfortable with whatever else happens to it.”
Wading through Styles’ background info is exhausting, since he was spanked by fame in the social media era where every goddam blink of a kohl-rimmed eye has been documented from six angles. (And yes, he does sometimes wear guyliner.)
Deep breath: born in Redditch, Worcestershire, to parents Des and Anne, who divorced when he was seven. Grew up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire with his sister Gemma, mum and stepdad Robin Twist. Rode horses at a nearby stable for free (“I was a bad rider, but I was a rider”). Stopped riding, “got into different stuff”. Formed a band, White Eskimo, with schoolmates. Aged 16, tried out for the 2010 run of The X Factorwith a stirring but average rendition of Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely. Cut from the show and put into a boy band with four others, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, and called One Direction. Became internationally famous, toured the globe. Zayn quit to go solo. Toured some more. Dated but maybe didn’t date Caroline Flack, Rita Ora and Taylor Swift – whom he reportedly dumped in the British Virgin Islands. (This relationship, if nothing else, yielded an iconic, candid shot of Swift looking dejected, being motored back to shore on the back of a boat called the Flying Ray.) One Direction discussed disbanding in 2014, actually dissolved in 2015. They remain friendly, and Styles officially went solo in 2016.
It’s been two years since his eponymous debut and lead single, Sign of the Times, shocked the world and Elton John with its swaggering, soft rock sound. “It came out of left field and I loved it,” John says.
After 89 arena-packed shows across five continents grossed him, the label, whomever, over $61 million, Styles had all but disappeared. He has emerged only intermittently for public-facing events – a Gucci afterparty performance here, a Met Gala co-chairing there. He relocated from Los Angeles back to London, selling his Hollywood Hills house for $6million and shipping his Jaguar E-type across the Atlantic so he could take joyrides on the M25.
“I’m not over LA,” he insists when I ask about the move. “My relationship with LAchanged a lot. What I wanted from LA changed.”
A great escape, he would agree, is sometimes necessary. He was in Tokyo for most of January, having nearly finished his album. “I needed time to get out of that album frame-of-mind of: ‘Is it finished? Where am I at? What’s happening?’ I really needed that time away from everyone. I was kind of just in Tokyo by myself.” His sabbatical mostly involved reading Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, singing Nirvana at karaoke, writing alone in his hotel room, listening to music and eavesdropping on strangers in alien conversation. “It was just a positive time for my head and I think that impacted the album in a big way.”
During this break he watched a lot of films, read a lot of books. Sometimes he texts these recommendations to his pal Michele at Gucci. He told Michele to watch the Ali Macgraw film, Love Story. “We text what friends text about. He is the same [as me] in terms of he lives in his own world and he does his own thing. I love dressing up and he loves dressing up.”
Because he loves dressing up, Michele chose Styles to be the face of three Gucci Tailoring campaigns and of its new genderless fragrance, Mémoire d’une Odeur.
“The moment I met him, I immediately understood there was something strong around him,” Michele tells me. “I realised he was much more than a young singer. He was a young man, dressed in a thoughtful way, with uncombed hair and a beautiful voice. I thought he gathered within himself the feminine and the masculine.”
Fashion, for Styles, is a playground. Something he doesn’t take too seriously. A couple of years ago Harry Lambert, his stylist since 2015, acquired for him a pair of pink metallic Saint Laurent boots that he has never been photographed wearing. They are exceedingly rare – few pairs exist. Styles wears them “to get milk”. They are, in his words, “super-fun”. He’s not sure, but he has, ballpark, 50 pairs of shoes, as well as full closets in at least three postcodes. He settles on an outfit fairly quickly, maybe changes his T-shirt once before heading out, but mostly knows what he likes.
What he may not fully comprehend is that simply by being photographed in a garment he can spur the career of a designer, as he has with Harris Reed, Palomo Spain, Charles Jeffrey, Alled-Martínez and a new favourite, Bode. Styles wore a SS16 Gucci floral suit to the 2015 American Music Awards. When he was asked who made his suit on the red carpet, Gucci began trending worldwide on Twitter.
“It was one of the first times a male wore Alessandro’s runway designs and, at the time, men were not taking too many red carpet risks,” says Lambert. “Who knows if it influenced others, but it was a special moment. Plus, it was fun seeing the fans dress up in suits to come see Harry’s shows.”
Yet traditional gender codes of dress still have the minds of middle America in a chokehold. Men can’t wear women’s clothes, say the online whingers, who have labelled him “tragic”, “a clown” and a Bowie wannabe. Styles doesn’t care. “What’s feminine and what’s masculine, what men are wearing and what women are wearing – it’s like there are no lines any more.”
Elton John agrees: “It worked for Marc Bolan, Bowie and Mick. Harry has the same qualities.”
Then there is the question of Styles’ sexuality, something he has admittedly “never really started to label”, which will plague him until he does. Perhaps it’s part of his allure. He’s brandished a pride flag that read “Make America Gay Again” on stage, and planted a stake somewhere left of centre on sexuality’s rainbow spectrum.
“In the position that he’s in, he can’t really say a lot, but he chose a queer girl band to open for him and I think that speaks volumes,” Josette Maskin of the queer band MUNA told The Face earlier this year.
“I get a lot of…” Styles trails off, wheels turning on how he can discuss sexuality without really answering. “I’m not always super-outspoken. But I think it’s very clear from choices that I make that I feel a certain way about lots of things. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’m not…” He pauses again, pivots. “I want everyone to feel welcome at shows and online. They want to be loved and equal, you know? I’m never unsupported, so it feels weird for me to overthink it for someone else.”
Sexuality aside, he must acknowledge that he has sex appeal. “The word ‘sexy’ sounds so strange coming out of my mouth. So I would say that that’s probably why I would not consider myself sexy.”
Harry Styles has emerged fully-formed, an anachronistic rock star, vague in sensibility but destined to impress with a disarming smile and a warm but firm handshake.
I recite to him a quote from Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders about her time atop rock’s throne: “I never got into this for the money or because I wanted to join in the superstar sex around the swimming pools. I did it because the offer of a record contract came along and it seemed like it might be more fun than being a waitress. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Styles – who worked in a bakery in a small northern town some time before playing to 40,000 screaming fans in South American arenas – must have witnessed some shit, been invited to a few poolside sex parties, in his time.
“I’ve seen a couple of things,” he nods in agreement. “But I’m still young. I feel like there’s still stuff to see.”
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The Face - Volume 4 . Issue 1
A handshake can quell political unrest and stifle impending war. It can, with a bit of spit, validate a gentleman’s agreement, end a years-long romantic relationship or send a young heart racing. But it all depends on the two parties involved.
Daisy, 21, felt a seismic jolt when Harry Styles, 25, wearing a striped jumper and rings on three of his five fingers, clutched her hand two days after this year’s Met Gala in New York, when she served him gelato at the shop where she worked.
“He decided on a small mint chocolate gelato and I made his and the one for his friend and I said, ‘Can I just say I absolutely loved your Met Gala look’ and he said ‘Thank you very much! What’s your name?’ And I said, ‘Daisy’ AND HE FUCKING EXTENDED HIS HAND AND REACHEDTO SHAKE MY HAND AND I ACTUALLY FUCKING SHOOK HIS HAND WHAT THEFUCK,” she wrote on Instagram after The Shakening. “Like I didn’t even say anything to gas him up besides ‘I loved your met gala look’ and his fine ass went and shook my hand! WHATA BEAUTIFUL FUCKING HUMAN BEING THAT HE IS GOD BLESS HIM AND I HOPE HW[sic] LIVES FOREVER.”
For Harry Styles, a handshake can be a romantic gesture, conjuring a potent reverence in its recipient, like the time he met Gucci’s creative director Alessandro Michele. “He was as attractive as James Dean and as persuasive as Greta Garbo. He was like a Luchino Visconti character, like an Apollo: at the same time sexy as a woman, as a kid, as a man,” Michele told me, hastening to add: “Of course, Harry is not aware of this.”
No, Styles has no idea the power he wields. In person, he’s towering, like someone who is not that much taller but whose reputation adds four inches. Styles has a sedative baritone, spoken in a rummy northern English accent, that tumbles out so slowly you forget the name of your first born, a swagger that has been nursed and perfected in mythical places with names like Paisley Park, or Abbey Road, or Graceland. Makes complete sense that he would be up for the role of Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann’s upcoming biopic. He was primed, nay, born to shake his hips, all but one button on his shirt clinging for dear life around his torso. Then the part was awarded to another actor, Austin Butler.
“[Elvis] was such an icon for me growing up,” Styles tells me. “There was something almost sacred about him, almost like I didn’t want to touch him. Then I ended up getting into [his life] a bit and I wasn’t disappointed,” he adds of his initial research and preparations to play The King. He seems relaxed about losing the part to Butler. “I feel like if I’m not the right person for the thing, then it’s best for both of us that I don’t do it, you know?”
Styles released his self-titled debut solo album in May 2017. The boyband grad was clearly uninterested in hollowing out the charts with more formulaic meme pop. Instead, to the surprise of many, he dug his heels into retro-fetishist West Coast ’70s rock. Some of the One Direction fan-hordes might have been confused, but no matter: Harry Styles sold one million copies.
Despite its commercial and critical success, he didn’t tour the album right away. He wanted to act in the Christopher Nolan film Dunkirk. To his credit, his portrayal of a British soldier cowering in a moored boat on the French beaches as the Nazis advanced wasn’t skewered in the press like the movie debuts of, say, Madonna or Justin Timberlake. Perhaps he was following advice given by Elton John, who had urged him to diversify. “He was brilliant in Dunkirk, which took a lot of people by surprise,” John writes in an email. “I love how he takes chances and risks.” Acting, unlike music, is a release for Styles; it’s the one time he can be not himself.
“Why do I want to act? It’s so different to music for me,” he says, suddenly animated. “They’re almost opposite for me. Music, you try and put so much of yourself into it; acting, you’re trying to totally disappear in whoever you’re being.”
Following the news that he missed out on Presley, his name was floated for the role of Prince Eric in Disney’s live-action remake of The Little Mermaid. However, fans will have to wait a bit longer to see Styles on the big screen as that idea, too, has sunk. He won’t be The King or the Prince. “It was discussed,” he acknowledges before swiftly changing the subject. “I want to put music out and focus on that for a while. But everyone involved in it was amazing, so I think it’s going to be great. I’ll enjoy watching it, I’m sure.”
The new album is wrapped and the single is decided upon. “It’s not like his last album,” his friend, rock ‘n’ roll legend Stevie Nicks, told me recently over the phone. “It’s not like anything One Direction ever did. It’s pure Harry, as Harry would say. He’s made a very different record and it’s spectacular.”
Beyond that, Styles is keeping his cards close to his chest as to his next musical move. However, the air is thick with rumours that his main wingman for HS2 is Kid Harpoon, aka Tom Hull, who co-wrote debut album track Sweet Creature. No less an authority than Liam Gallagher told us that both big band escapees were in the same studio – RAK in north-west London – at the same time making their second solo albums. Styles played him a couple of tracks, “and I tell you what, they’re good,” Gallagher enthused. “A bit like that Bon Iver. Is that his name?”
Harry Styles met Nicks at a Fleetwood Mac concert in Los Angeles in April 2015. Something about him felt authentic to the legendary frontwoman: grounded, like she’d known him forever, blessed with a winning moonshot grin. A month later, they met backstage at another Mac gig, this time at the O2 in London. Styles brought a carrot cake for Nicks’ birthday, her name piped in icing on top. By her own admission, Nicks doesn’t even celebrate birthdays, so this was a surprise. “He was personally responsible for me actually having to celebrate my birthday, which was very sweet,” she says.
Styles’ relationship with Nicks is hard to define. Inducting her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York as a solo artist earlier this year, his speech hymned her as a “magical gypsy godmother who occupies the in-between”. She’s called him her “lovechild” with Mick Fleetwood and the “son I never had”. Both have moved past the preliminary chat acknowledging each other’s unquantifiable talents and smoothly accelerated towards playful cut-and-thrust banter of a witch mom and her naughty child.
They perform together – he sings The Chain and Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around; she sings the one allegedly written about Taylor Swift, Two Ghosts. One of those performances was at the Gucci Cruise afterparty in Rome in May, for “a lot of money”, Nicks tells me, in a “big kind of castle place”. She has become his de facto mentor – one phone call is all it takes to reach the Queen of Rock’n’Roll for advice on sequencing (“She is really good at track listing,” Styles admits) or just to hear each other’s voices… because, well, wouldn’t you?
Following another Fleetwood Mac concert, at London’s Wembley Stadium, in June, Nicks met Styles for a late (Indian) dinner. He then invited her back to his semi-detached Georgian mansion in north London for a listening party at midnight. The album – HS2or whatever it’ll be called – was finished. Nicks, her assistant Karen, her make-up artist and her friends Jess and Mary crammed onto Styles’ living-room couch. They listened to it once through in silence like a “bunch of educated monks or something in this dark room”. Then once again, 15 or 16 tracks, this time each of his guests offering live feedback. It wrapped at 5am, just as the sun was bleeding through the curtains.
Even for a pop star of Styles’ stature, pressing “play” on a deeply personal work for your hero to digest, watching her face react in real time to your new music, must be… what?
“It’s a double-edged thing,” he replies. “You’re always nervous when you are playing people music for the first time. You’ve heard it so much by this point, you forget that people haven’t heard it before. It’s hard to not feel like you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. You are happy with something and then someone who you respect so much and look up to is, like: ‘I really like this.’ It feels like a large stamp [of approval]. It’s a big step towards feeling very comfortable with whatever else happens to it.”
Wading through Styles’ background info is exhausting, since he was spanked by fame in the social media era where every goddam blink of a kohl-rimmed eye has been documented from six angles. (And yes, he does sometimes wear guyliner.)
Deep breath: born in Redditch, Worcestershire, to parents Des and Anne, who divorced when he was seven. Grew up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire with his sister Gemma, mum and stepdad Robin Twist. Rode horses at a nearby stable for free (“I was a bad rider, but I was a rider”). Stopped riding, “got into different stuff”. Formed a band, White Eskimo, with schoolmates. Aged 16, tried out for the 2010 run of The X Factorwith a stirring but average rendition of Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely. Cut from the show and put into a boy band with four others, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, and called One Direction. Became internationally famous, toured the globe. Zayn quit to go solo. Toured some more. Dated but maybe didn’t date Caroline Flack, Rita Ora and Taylor Swift – whom he reportedly dumped in the British Virgin Islands. (This relationship, if nothing else, yielded an iconic, candid shot of Swift looking dejected, being motored back to shore on the back of a boat called the Flying Ray.) One Direction discussed disbanding in 2014, actually dissolved in 2015. They remain friendly, and Styles officially went solo in 2016.
It’s been two years since his eponymous debut and lead single, Sign of the Times, shocked the world and Elton John with its swaggering, soft rock sound. “It came out of left field and I loved it,” John says.
After 89 arena-packed shows across five continents grossed him, the label, whomever, over $61million, Styles had all but disappeared. He has emerged only intermittently for public-facing events – a Gucci afterparty performance here, a Met Gala co-chairing there. He relocated from Los Angeles back to London, selling his Hollywood Hills house for $6 million and shipping his Jaguar E-type across the Atlantic so he could take joyrides on the M25.
“I’m not over LA,” he insists when I ask about the move. “My relationship with LA changed a lot. What I wanted from LA changed.”
A great escape, he would agree, is sometimes necessary. He was in Tokyo for most of January, having nearly finished his album. “I needed time to get out of that album frame-of-mind of: ‘Is it finished? Where am I at? What’s happening?’ I really needed that time away from everyone. I was kind of just in Tokyo by myself.” His sabbatical mostly involved reading Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, singing Nirvana at karaoke, writing alone in his hotel room, listening to music and eavesdropping on strangers in alien conversation. “It was just a positive time for my head and I think that impacted the album in a big way.”
During this break he watched a lot of films, read a lot of books. Sometimes he texts these recommendations to his pal Michele at Gucci. He told Michele to watch the Ali Macgraw film, Love Story. “We text what friends text about. He is the same [as me] in terms of he lives in his own world and he does his own thing. I love dressing up and he loves dressing up.”
Because he loves dressing up, Michele chose Styles to be the face of three Gucci Tailoring campaigns and of its new genderless fragrance, Mémoire d’une Odeur.
“The moment I met him, I immediately understood there was something strong around him,” Michele tells me. “I realised he was much more than a young singer. He was a young man, dressed in a thoughtful way, with uncombed hair and a beautiful voice. I thought he gathered within himself the feminine and the masculine.”
Fashion, for Styles, is a playground. Something he doesn’t take too seriously. A couple of years ago Harry Lambert, his stylist since 2015, acquired for him a pair of pink metallic Saint Laurent boots that he has never been photographed wearing. They are exceedingly rare – few pairs exist. Styles wears them “to get milk”. They are, in his words, “super-fun”. He’s not sure, but he has, ballpark, 50 pairs of shoes, as well as full closets in at least three postcodes. He settles on an outfit fairly quickly, maybe changes his T-shirt once before heading out, but mostly knows what he likes.
What he may not fully comprehend is that simply by being photographed in a garment he can spur the career of a designer, as he has with Harris Reed, Palomo Spain, Charles Jeffrey, Alled-Martínez and a new favourite, Bode. Styles wore a SS16 Gucci floral suit to the 2015 American Music Awards. When he was asked who made his suit on the red carpet, Gucci began trending worldwide on Twitter.
“It was one of the first times a male wore Alessandro’s runway designs and, at the time, men were not taking too many red carpet risks,” says Lambert. “Who knows if it influenced others, but it was a special moment. Plus, it was fun seeing the fans dress up in suits to come see Harry’s shows.”
Yet traditional gender codes of dress still have the minds of middle America in a chokehold. Men can’t wear women’s clothes, say the online whingers, who have labelled him “tragic”, “a clown” and a Bowie wannabe. Styles doesn’t care. “What’s feminine and what’s masculine, what men are wearing and what women are wearing – it’s like there are no lines any more.”
Elton John agrees: “It worked for Marc Bolan, Bowie and Mick. Harry has the same qualities.”
Then there is the question of Styles’ sexuality, something he has admittedly “never really started to label”, which will plague him until he does. Perhaps it’s part of his allure. He’s brandished a pride flag that read “Make America Gay Again” on stage, and planted a stake somewhere left of centre on sexuality’s rainbow spectrum.
“In the position that he’s in, he can’t really say a lot, but he chose a queer girl band to open for him and I think that speaks volumes,” Josette Maskin of the queer band MUNA told The Face earlier this year.
“I get a lot of…” Styles trails off, wheels turning on how he can discuss sexuality without really answering. “I’m not always super-outspoken. But I think it’s very clear from choices that I make that I feel a certain way about lots of things. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’m not…” He pauses again, pivots. “I want everyone to feel welcome at shows and online. They want to be loved and equal, you know? I’m never unsupported, so it feels weird for me to overthink it for someone else.”
Sexuality aside, he must acknowledge that he has sex appeal. “The word ‘sexy’ sounds so strange coming out of my mouth. So I would say that that’s probably why I would not consider myself sexy.”
Harry Styles has emerged fully-formed, an anachronistic rock star, vague in sensibility but destined to impress with a disarming smile and a warm but firm handshake.
I recite to him a quote from Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders about her time atop rock’s throne: “I never got into this for the money or because I wanted to join in the superstar sex around the swimming pools. I did it because the offer of a record contract came along and it seemed like it might be more fun than being a waitress. Now, I’m not so sure.”
Styles – who worked in a bakery in a small northern town some time before playing to 40,000screaming fans in South American arenas – must have witnessed some shit, been invited to a few poolside sex parties, in his time.
“I’ve seen a couple of things,” he nods in agreement. “But I’m still young. I feel like there’s still stuff to see.”
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