#or just comment it under every video I come across even when there’s nothing remotely relatable

[mrsreinhart]

It’s from may this year too when american sweetshop came out so could be tru

Me watching my hopes go up just for them to eventually come back down to crash and burn

[skyeet-the-writer]

okay i’m not sure if you are taking like open requests but corpse and reader are dating and nobody really knows but like the fans ship it and stuff, and they are playing among us with jack, felix, rae ect,, and someone invites somebody and it’s reader ex boyfriend and corpse notices that she’s acting really quiet and he texts her like “baby are you okay??” and she tells him that’s her toxic ex and during an emergency meeting, her ex suspects her and when she defends herself he says something along the lines of “don’t believe her she’s a fucking liar, she’s been one since the day i first met her” and everyone is like ??? but corpse flips out on him and just snaps telling him to leave his girlfriend alone which breaks his cover so everyone knows about you guys and just like really mad corpse and having to help him calm down and you get up from your seat to see him in his streaming room and just sit on his lap and he’s like “fuck that guy it’s okay baby we can just play minecraft or something” lmaooo 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i know that was so specific but the thought makes me so soft i would actually cry if you wrote this

This Is A Shout Out To My Ex

here’s my first request guys! so sorry they’re taking so long. i’m trying to get these done before i do anything else. hope you guys enjoy! x,

corpse x female!reader

summary: while paying a game with her friends, y/n’s toxic ex joins the game. when he calls her a liar, corpse snaps and defends his girlfriend

word count: ~4.4k

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, gaslighting, near-death experiences, swearing, some angst but it has a super fluffy end!

Living with your boyfriend is, obviously, amazing in every way. You see each other all the time, you get to cuddle almost all the time, and you get to see his handsome face every morning.

Probably, the only downside is the fact that living together makes it nearly impossible to hide the fact that you’re dating.

But, somehow, you’ve managed to keep it a secret from you rabid fans for the past four months. You literally have no idea how because you’re pretty sure you accidentally got a glimpse of Corpse walking by while you were doing a vlog.

Miraculously, no one noticed it. Then again, none of your fans knew what he looked like, so there’s a plus. There were one or two comments asking who the person in the back was, but you lied and said it was a friend. Technically, you weren’t wrong.

And so you’ve been trying to keep your relationship with Corpse on the DL to avoid any stress or anxiety his way. You could deal with it, you’ve been doing Youtube for years and could handle almost anything. Corpse, bless his heart, might not be able to.

One morning, you’re awoken by some slight tugging on your hair. You crack your eyes open but the bright light makes you whine and close them again. There’s a soft laugh behind you and you roll over onto your back, scooting over closer to him. You stretch your legs and grin, still keeping your eyes closed. 

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask in a quiet voice, your head resting on your lover’s chest.

“No,” he answers in his deep voice and you feel him play with your hair. “Anxiety, insomnia, the usual shit.”

You hum and open your eyes slowly, deciding to brave the light. You blink up at Corpse who is staring at the ceiling. “What were you thinking about?” Your own voice is a bit scratchy and rough. 

He looks down at you and you take notice of how bloodshot his eyes are and the bags under his eyes. “How pretty you are when you sleep.” He grins.

“You watched me when I slept?” you ask and playfully narrow your eyes at him. “You creep.”

He laughs and you turn around onto your side, your back facing him. “Baby, no, I didn’t mean it that way.”

You smile. “You’re so creepy, Corpse.”

He doesn’t say anything but you hear him sit up in bed. You begin to ask what he’s doing but then he lifts up the back of your shirt to press a few kisses to your back. “You’re still here, though. With me.”

“Hm. Yeah.” You turn around and he gazes at you. “Because I love you.”

His eyes light up in the way that they always do when you tell him those three, simple words. You love seeing them light up that way and you grin. “I love you, too.” He leans in for a quick kiss.

“What time is it?” you ask when you pull away.

Corpse reaches over to his side of the bed and turns his phone on. “Noon.”

“Noon?” you shout and sit up so quickly you get a head rush. “We were supposed to be playing Among Us with Sean, Pewds, Toast, Rae, and them.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You turn and see him with his hands covering his face.

You walk over to him and kneel next to him. “Babe? What’s up?”

He just groans and you frown. He doesn’t feel good. 

You push his hair from his forehead. “I can tell them that you’re not feeling up for it. They all know you, they’d understand.”

He shakes his head and runs his hands down his face before they rest on his chest. “No. No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a smile.

You kiss his cheek. “Okay, then, babe. C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” You grab his hands and tug him up until he’s in a sitting position. He pulls you in for another kiss but you lean away.

“You have morning breath,” you tell him when he gives you his sad eyes. “Brush your teeth and then I’ll kiss you.”

That seems to get him out of bed and into the bathroom while you change clothes. You change out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into jeans and a shirt. He walks out of the bathroom yawning and you walk past him to go to the bathroom.

I wish he’d sleep, you think to yourself while brushing your teeth. After brushing your teeth, you wash your face and do a little bit of makeup so you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed even though you did.

Corpse walks into the bathroom as you’re finishing your makeup and has a mug of coffee for you. You’re the only one in the house who drinks coffee since he can’t, so you always find it so sweet that he makes it for you.

“You made me coffee?” you ask and he nods. You take it from him and give him a peck. “Thank you, love.” 

You take a sip and grab your phone from your nightstand and shove it into your pocket. You walk out of the bedroom the two of you share and into the kitchen to check on your cat. 

Before you met him, Corpse had never really wanted a pet. He said that they die and he doesn’t want to deal with that, which you understand. But after the two of you had been dating for three months and you had been living with him for a month and a half, you begged him to let you get a cat. You knew he couldn’t say no to you. 

“Where’s Inky?” you call out to your boyfriend after not finding your cat in the living room or the kitchen. 

“In here,” he calls back and you follow his voice. Corpse is sitting in his chair getting ready to stream. You spot a black cat sitting on his table, licking at his hand. Corpse laughs and pets the animal on the head. “Stop licking me, girl. Your tongue feels weird.”

You smile and walk over to him, picking the cat up. “Come on, Inky, let’s leave dad to do his job, yeah?”

The young cat meows up at you and stares into your soul with her green eyes. You lock her gaze and have a staring contest. You lose, however, and blink away. 

“Why is your cat so weird?” you ask, placing the cat back down and watch her run away. 

“Probably gets it from her mom,” Corpse mumbles and you hear a smile. 

You scoff and smack his hand away gently when he reaches out to you. “Fine, you don’t get a kiss before the stream.”

“No, wait!” he shouts and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. “I was kidding, baby.”

You smile at him and cup his cheek. “I know.” You lean down and give him a long, deep kiss. You feel him smile against your lips and you pull away. He gives you a smile.

“I love you,” he mutters, brushing some hair away from your face. 

“I love you more.” You grab his hand and press a kiss against his knuckles. You take a step back. “I’ll see you in the Discord chat, babe.”

“Okay. Also, don’t close the door all the way!” he calls to you and you look back at him, your hand on the doorknob. 

“Why?” you ask, leaning on the doorframe. 

He takes a second to respond. “Because I want Inky to come in here later.”

You laugh but smile. “Okay, fine.” You walk away from the door and across the hall into your own recording room. 

Your room is a lot different than your boyfriend’s. His room is dark and doesn’t have a lot in it. Yours, on the other hand, probably has too much stuff. Most of it is gifts from fans like stuffed animals and other knickknacks. Your desk, monitors, and lights take up a lot of the already limited space. You turn both your ring lights on after closing the door and turn on the LED lights you have attached to the ceiling. You switch them to the f/c setting and put the remote next to your coffee mug. You sit down in your black and white gaming chair and set everything up after putting on your headset. 

You join the Among Us game after beginning your stream and then the Discord call. You seem to join before Corpse because you can’t see him in the call. 

“You’ve finally decided to join us, y/n!” Felix exclaims and you smile. 

“Am I late?” you ask, taking another drink of your coffee. 

“No,” Sean replies. “I mean, we played a couple of rounds to pass the time, but nothing interesting happened.”

You nod and glance at who all is in the chat. It seems to be you, Felix, Toast, Charlie, Rae, Sean, later Corpse, and someone else who’s tag sounds familiar. 

“Oh! I invited someone new!” says Rae. “He’s a friend from college. y/n, this is Dallas.”

“Hey, y/n.”

Your eyes widen and your blood goes cold at the sound of his voice. You know him. You used to date him. In highschool before you moved away. You remember how toxic he was. He would always blow you off when you wanted to hang out and when you did hang out, he always played video games and never talked to you. 

“Hi, Dallas,” you stutter out. “Uh, hey, didn’t you and I go to highschool together?”

You can practically hear his smirk. “Yeah. We did.”

“I didn’t know you two went to school together,” Rae says happily. 

“Yep,” Dallas says. “We were friends, too.”

You want to throw up.

Suddenly, your loving and not toxic boyfriend joins the call and your spirits lift. 

“Corpse!” you exclaim, almost letting another word slip out. 

“You’re here,” says Rae. “Good noon!”

“Yeah, I’m not a morning person,” he says and you just now notice how deep his voice is. “I just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” Felix says. 

“Jesus,” says Charlie, dragging out the ‘u’.

“You just woke up?” asks Toast. 

He’s a liar, he didn’t sleep at all, you think but keep your mouth shut and laugh. 

“It’s like a forty-hertz voice,” Sean says. 

“It sounds like short wave radio,” Charlie adds. 

You laugh. “You sound like spoken brown note.”

Corpse laughs. “This is me when I wake up, that’s what...” He cuts himself off and laughs again.

“I’m scared,” says Dallas. 

“I didn’t know it could get any lower!” exclaims Sean. 

“I didn’t know you could hit puberty twice.” Felix laughs. 

After some more laughter, Corpse is introduced to Dallas. 

“Hey, man,” Corpse says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dallas replies. 

“Can we start the game now?” Sean asks when everyone is in the waiting room. You take a sip of your coffee while Rae starts the game. 

You mute yourself as your role is revealed and let out a sigh of relief. “Crewmate. Good, this makes this less stressful.” You go into the hallway, following Felix and Sean to go do wires. You clear the two of them and you three go up to admin. “Okay, so for those of you wondering about my reaction to Dallas joining the stream is that he’s my ex. Uh, we dating in highschool and broke up around the end of senior year. So this is pretty awkward for me.” You break away from Sean and Felix to go do a task in the greenhouse. 

You leave out the part about Dallas where he was borderline abusive. You remember him shouting at you for asking for the littlest of things to him gaslighting you and guilt-tripping you into going skinny dipping with him. 

Maybe that’s why you love Corpse so much. He’s the opposite of Dallas. He’s sweet and he’s caring. He’s never once raised his voice at you unless you were beating him in a game. Even then you both knew he wasn’t serious. And he had never once pressured you to do something you didn’t want to do. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone reports Rae’s dead body. You unmute yourself and take another drink of your coffee. 

“I found her in decontamination,” Dallas says. “I opened the door and she was right there.”

“I was down by storage doing wires,” you tell them, putting your mug down. “And I was with Felix and Jack for the beginning and I’m pretty sure they’re cleared. So it has to be either you, Toast, or Corpse. Or Charlie.”

“You almost forgot about me,” he says and you laugh. 

“We never vote on seven, right?” Toast says. 

“Not if no one is sus, no,” Corpse answers. 

“I’m skipping,” says Sean. 

You nod and skip voting. “Same here.”

Everyone skips voting and you continue on. You do the rest of your wiring tasks and go out to the balcony where you notice Corpse standing out there. You smile and walk up to him and make your characters’ “eye” parts touch. “Look, Corpse. We’re touching eyeballs.”

You can just barely make out his laugh from the room across from yours and you grin before doing to do your task. You glance at your chat while you run to the reactor with Corpse. “How have you guys been doing? Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t forget to drink some water and eat something.” You smile at the camera and enter decontamination with Corpse and Toast. 

When you enter reactor, Corpse and Toast each go to do it and you head to the sorting in the lab when suddenly a body is reported. 

You decide to be quiet and drink from your coffee while everyone else discusses what happened. You zone out a little when Dallas talks and your mind flashes back to memories you’ve been trying to forget. 

“Wait, who are we voting?” you ask when you suddenly snap back to reality. 

“Felix,” Sean answers. “He vented right in front of me.”

You nod and vote for Felix and he gets ejected. 

pEWds was ejected 

1 imposter remains

You mute yourself once more and continue to do your tasks and stick with Corpse as much as you can. Your chat notices this and begins to blow up with the ship name they have for the two of you. You laugh at the chat as you scan yourself. “Why are you guys freaking out about Corpse and me? We’re literally just walking.”

Another body is reported and this time it’s Toast’s. You know who the imposter is. You unmute yourself and quickly say, “It’s fucking Dallas, it’s a self-report.”

“What?” Dallas exclaims and you immediately sense the hint of anger in his tone. He used to get so mad during video games and it seems like nothing has changed in the past few years. “How’s it me? It could be Charlie.”

“Charlie is dead, too,” Sean says. 

“Yep. And I know both Corpse and Sean are cleared because I was with Sean for a long time and I just watched Corpse get scanned.”

Dallas scoffs. “Well, shit, you got me there.”

After Dallas is ejected, the crewmates win and you all start another round. You suddenly don’t feel like talking too much anymore and do your stream in mostly silence. Just Dallas being there and in the same call as you is making you anxious and bringing up memories you don’t want to remember. 

Your chat asks you about this and you ignore it as you continue to do your tasks as a crewmate. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, looking at who it is. 

corpse 🖤

are you okay? you’re being really quiet

y/n

yeah, ig. just that dallas is my ex. toxic ex too

corpse 🖤

want me to kill him for you? im imposter

You smile and shake your head. “Oh, Corpse,” you whisper to yourself. 

y/n

no dont kill him lol

You put your phone back down on the table and look back at the game. 

You don’t pay too much attention to the game until the fourth round after you and Rae lost as the imposters. You’re a crewmate once again and you’re peacefully doing your tasks when suddenly something lays on your bare feet. 

“What the?” You look down at your feet and see a little dark fuzzball on your feet. “Inky, get off my feet, baby.” You move your feet and pick her up. You hold her in your arms like a baby the way she likes and rub her belly. “Okay, go see your dad.” Inky jumps out of your arms and you watch her leave your recording room. 

You turn back to your task and continue to do them without any interruptions. You notice, however, that Dallas has been following you for most of the round. You’re starting to get a little nervous and you run into the cafeteria to get away from him when he calls an emergency meeting.

You unmute yourself and Dallas says, “I think it’s y/n. I’m pretty sure she’s faking tasks.”

“Except I’m not,” you tell him. “You’re the one following me around, too, Dallas. What’s up with that, huh?”

“I’ve been following you because you’re acting sus.”

You glare at Dallas’s character on the screen, heat rushing to your face. “I’m literally doing my tasks, I know you saw me do the card swipe--”

“Don’t listen to her,” Dallas says and he sounds far too confident. “She’s a fucking liar. She has been since the first day I met her.”

By now your face is completely red from anger and you gasp. “Excuse me?”

“What are you talking about?” Sean asks. “I’ve known y/n for a long time, she’s never told a lie so long as I’ve known her.”

“That’s because she’s too good at it,” Dallas says in a snarky tone and you’ve never wanted to punch a screen more in your life. “Her and me used to date in highschool but I broke up with her because she lied to me about everything.”

“That’s not fucking true!” you shout and you can hear blood rushing to your ears. “I was the one who broke up with you after you gaslighted me about not hanging out with you enough when in reality you were always hanging out with your stupid football friends!”

“She’s lying--”

“The fuck are you saying about my girl?” Corpse demands. 

The chat goes silent for a moment. Corpse just called you his girl. You look at your live chat and it’s exploding with “i knew it”s and lots of keyboard smashing.

“Your girl?” Dallas asks after a moment.

“Yes. My girl. As in my girlfriend.” He sounds so possessive and it’s kind of hot to you. “Why are you calling her a liar?”

Dallas stumbles on his words. “B--because she is one.”

“Right. And how long have you known her?”

“I knew her in highschool--“

“Nevermind, I literally don’t care,” Corpse interrupts him. “I’ve been living with her for the past five months and she’s never lied to me about anything.”

Dallas is quiet for once. Everyone is. No one is really even breathing but your heartbeat is rattling your brain and blood is rushing through your ears.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” you whisper. You swallow thickly and glance at your chat. Luckily, they’re all defending you and yelling at Dallas. You turn back to the screen. “Dallas, I’m not the imposter. And stop making stupid ass accusations.”

“I--“

“Kick him,” says Felix and you can tell he sounds mad.

“No wait--“ Dallas begins to say.

“No!” Rae interrupts. “I knew there was something off about you.”

“You don’t get to come in here and talk shit about our friend,” Jack says.

“I was kidding,” Dallas tries to explain.

But then something inside you snaps. You forgot how much you hate Dallas. How he always turned the blame on you when he did something wrong. How you almost lost all of your friends because he convinced them that you were a bad person.

At first, you thought he had changed. You thought that he had actually grown up. Turns out that people don’t change.

“Like you were kidding when you almost got me kicked out of the house because you made me go out with you to go drinking?” you ask. “Or how you played a stupid trick on me when I was driving us to school and I almost fucking crashed the car and nearly killed us?”

“Jesus.” You can hear him roll his eyes. “You’re still on about that? It was April Fool’s, you should have expected it—“

“I shouldn’t have expected shit!” you yell and it comes out raw. The memory flashes in your mind and you cringe. “That wasn’t funny, Dallas! You weren’t funny! I fucking hated my life in high school. I was already stressed out because I thought I wasn’t smart enough and you being my boyfriend and ignoring me and manipulating me didn’t help.

“So fuck you. Fuck you for everything you did to me when we were teenagers. Fuck you for making me think that you changed and were actually nice and then ripping that away from me. But you know what? Thanks. Thanks for being my ex because you made me what I am today and you’re the reason I moved to California and met the love of my life.”

You suck a deep breath in and wipe at the tears that had fallen. You put your hand on your camera. “Speaking of which, I need a hug from him. Bye, guys.”

You stop streaming and disconnect from everything. You turn your computer off, unplug your headset, and turn your lights off. You sit in your chair trying not to cry in the dark.

Corpse, your mind says and you open your eyes. You really want a hug. His hugs are the best. You take your headset off and walk out of your recording room. Before you walk into Corpse’s recording room, you head to the living room and grab a fluffy gray blanket and wrap it around yourself.

You don’t even bother to knock on the door and just walk in. His room is still dark and it appears like he’s angry. You can tell by the way his voice is deeper and how he looks like he’s shaking.

But when you tap on his shoulder, he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Babe.”

You sniffle and he pushes away from his desk. You shake your head and pull his arms up above his head and settle yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of him, and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Baby,” he whispers and you lean your cheek on his shoulder. “Just fuck off, Dallas.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and you shift up a little, pushing your nose into his neck. He smells nice. “Stop talking to them.”

“What?” he looks down at you and asks what you’re doing when you take his headset off. You unplug them, thereby disconnecting him from the stream. “y/n, what are you doing?”

“I want to cuddle with you,” you mutter and bury your face into his neck.

You feel him wrap his arms around your back and he pulls you up, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Okay, baby. We can cuddle.”

The two of you sit like that for what feels like a long time. You hear Corpse’s phone buzz, but the two of you ignore it. He kisses the side of your head and you smile.

You sigh deeply as he tightens his hold against you. “Fuck that guy, baby. It’s okay.” He moves his shoulder and you look up at him. “Wanna go play Minecraft?”

A grin spreads across your face and you nod. Corpse smiles back and picks you up, bridal style, blanket and all. You squeal and laugh as he carries you to the living room. “Put me down, Corpse!”

“Alright.” He drops you into the couch and turns around to turn the Xbox on.

You huff and push your hair out of your face, keeping the blanket wrapped tight around your body. “I didn’t mean literally drop me, dummy.”

He shrugs and sits next to you, handing you a controller. “Should’ve been more specific, baby.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. “Jerk.” You put the controller next to you on the couch and move the blanket so it’s over both of your laps and you lean into his side.

After playing Minecraft for the majority of the afternoon and evening, you finally drag Corpse to bed with you after ordering pizza for dinner.

His arms are wrapped tight around your waist as your back is pressed against his chest. Inky hops up onto the bed and nuzzles your hand until you begin to pet her. She lays down on her belly and you gently pat her.

“Am I really the love of your life?” Corpse asks after a long time of sitting in the quiet darkness

You nod against the pillow. “Yeah. You are.”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s smiling when he kisses the back of your neck.

Your phone on your nightstand lights up and you head Corpse’s phone buzz again as well. You think for just a moment about all of the texts, all of the messages, all of the DMs you’re getting about what happened. For a second, you panic. What if people don’t think that you’re worth to be dating Corpse? What if people are calling you a pussy for how you reacted to Dallas? What if everyone hates you?

But those thoughts immediately go away when Corpse mumbles something in that husky voice of his that makes the butterflies in your tummy come back. “You’re the love of my life, too.”

“Yeah?” you hum, your eyes slipping shut.

“Yeah,” he says and you can tell that he’s getting tired as well. “And I’m gonna marry you someday.”

An involuntary smile spreads across your face and your entire body overheats. You bite your lip in the darkness and whisper,

“And I’m gonna say yes.”

But he’s asleep. His breathing has evened out. He shouldn’t have heard you.

You know he heard you somehow, though, because his arms tighten around your waist. You wiggle backward so that you’re flush against his chest and his head drops down onto the top of your head.

You place your hands over his and close your eyes. Finally, he’s sleeping.

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

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[ssahotchhner]

Hiii! Can there be a Hotch x BAUFem!reader where they are already dating and she gets kidnapped in a case and like Reid’s epsidoe the team see her getting tortured and Hotch goes insnaely mad and the team get her but she been stabbed or shot up to you. And she passes out in hotchs arms to Hotch screaming for her to stay awake. Wakes up in hospital and all fluffy between them agter. I love your content and I get if you don’t want to do this x

hello!!! i feel like this is kinda similar to something i’ve done already so i tried to make them as different as possible. i hope you guys still enjoy!!!

warnings: just your usual torture, kidnapping, and murders

questions, comments, concerns

I’M NOT AFRAID

“Sorry to ruin date night.” Penelope teases as you and Hotch walk into the conference room. You’re wearing a dress that is far too short to be work appropriate, attempting to hide it under your long coat and scowling at Penelope. 

Morgan whistles and you roll your eyes, but Aaron only smirks as he settles into the seat next to you, resting a hand on your thigh under the table. It was nice to finally be able to be like this at work. You and Aaron had and would always continue to be professional at work, but since the team had found out, you didn’t have to hide the subtle touches or loaded glances.

“Good evening crime fighters, I’m so sorry to ruin your night, but we have some criminals afoot.” Images of women’s bodies illuminate the screen behind her. Immediately you notice small burns that decorate each of their bodies, consistent with the use of a taser. “You will be heading to North Bend, Washington where the bodies were found abandoned in alleyways behind dumpsters. In all cases, the bodies were discovered by homeless men.”

“What was the cause of death?” You ask.

Penelope sighs, “It looks like the person who did this tortured them for hours, submerged in salt water for long periods of time and tased at close range over and over, until,” She clicks the remote and pictures of the victims’ heads come across the screen.

“He tased them in the head?” Morgan asks.

“That would be correct, chocolate thunder. The ME reports that the girls all suffered incredible brain damage until their brains just… shut down.”

“The discarding of the bodies suggests he doesn’t have any remorse and he’s clearly sadistic since he tortures them for so long.” Prentiss says.

“Garcia, was there evidence of sexual assault?” Aaron asks.

“ME says since they were submerged in water for so long it’s impossible to tell.”

“Forensic countermeasure?” Reid muses.

“It’s possible.” Aaron says. 

“Oh, and there’s one last thing.” A picture of another girl fills the screen, “Another girl was taken a few hours ago, her name is Tiffany Cole. Judging by how long he’s held the other girls--”

“We have less than 48 hours to find her.” Aaron finishes, “Let’s get going then, wheels up in thirty.”

You follow Aaron to his office, closing the door behind you, sighing as you lean against it, “We’re never gonna have a night to ourselves, are we?”

He brushes his thumb along your cheek, “I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you when we get back.”

You smile and lean into his touch, “Shame this dress has to go to waste.”

“Can I at least take it off you?” He murmurs.

You raise your eyebrows, “Sure, my love, but don’t forget to close the shades.” You nod your head to the windows of his office.

You pull out your go bag while he closes the shades, pulling out some comfier, more professional clothing. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist and you lean back into him. Gently kissing your shoulders, he pulls down the zipper in the back revealing your bare back.

He groans into your skin, “I can’t believe we have a case.”

You hum and turn in his arms, placing your hands on his chest as the dress falls off you, “Well we better work quickly then so you can make it up to me.” You smirk and lightly push off from his chest, turning away from him to put on your work clothes.

Faster than you thought possible, Aaron immediately shifts back into unit chief, barely looking at you as he swipes through the case file on his tablet. Once dressed, you peer over his shoulder, “What’s bothering you?”

He shakes his head and stands, grabbing his go bag and handing you yours, “I don’t know yet.” He says and walks past you, leaving you to follow.

***

“There doesn’t seem to be any evidence of gagging or even tape over the mouth to keep the girls quiet,” Reid observes from the jet, “No trace glue on the mouth or fabric found inside. ME even reports that some of their vocal chords seemed strained, most likely from hours of screaming.”

“Which means he must have some remote place to keep them where nobody can hear them.” Rossi adds.

Aaron is quiet the entire time besides assigning the team tasks for when you land, “Aaron, what’s the matter?” You say softly, gently squeezing his leg.

He slowly shakes his head, “Something about this case… I feel like I’ve seen it before, but I can’t… I can’t remember.”

You frown, “We could ask Garcia--?”

“No.” He interjects immediately and then looks at you apologetically for cutting you off, “No, not yet. I don’t want anyone wasting their time when I’m not even sure myself.”

You nod, “Okay.”

The rest of the day went by as usual, Aaron asked you and JJ to go talk to the families. By the time you got back to the police station, the sun was beginning to set and the team had hit dead end after dead end. Frustrated, Hotch ended up dismissing the team for the night to come back with fresh eyes tomorrow.

In the hotel room the two of you shared, you kneeled on the bed behind Aaron who was still looking over case files and placed your hands on his shoulders, gently kneading them with your fingers, “Come to bed.” You said softly and kissed him just below his ear.

He shakes his head, “There’s a girl out there who might already be dead because of my incompetence.”

You frown and sit back on your legs, “That’s weird, I didn’t know you were working this case by yourself.”

He sighs, “I know I’ve seen this before.”

“Even if you had, it’s probably a copycat, it’s not the same guy.”

“But we don’t know that.” He says, exasperated, “I can’t even remember if we caught him, I can’t remember anything.”

“Okay, that’s it, we’re calling Garcia first thing in the morning.”

“Y/N--”

“We don’t have any other leads, it’s not a waste of time. Now come to bed, please. You’re no use to anyone when you’re tired, you just get more grumpy than usual.”

He finally offers you a small smile, “Are you saying that I’m normally grumpy?”

You smile in victory as you lay back into the pillows and Aaron crawls over you, “Your baseline grumpiness at work is pretty high, yes.” You mimic his frown and deepen your voice, “You always look like this, no matter who you’re speaking to or the scenario.”

He laughs and flattens his body against yours, head resting on your chest and you run your fingers through his hair, “We’ll find him, Aaron. I promise.”

He doesn’t respond, but you both quickly fall asleep like that, unaware of what horrors the next day would bring.

***

“Good morning sunshine, what can I do for you this early?” Penelope answers your phone call with a yawn.

“Hey, Garcia, sorry to call so early. Would it be possible to pull up a list of all the cases Hotch worked before he was unit chief and see if any of them are similar to this case? Maybe the victimology or the MO?”

“Might take a while, our favorite unit chief has been fighting crime for a very long time, but I’ll get back to you if I find anything.”

“Thanks Penelope.”

“Ciao bella!”

“Garcia’s looking.” You said as you hung up the phone, Aaron just finishing tying his tie. You stood and reached out to straighten it. “Try not to think about it, you work best when you’re calm and detached.”

He frowns, “Detached?”

You smile and go up on your tip toes to give him a kiss, “Yes, when you check your ego at the door.”

He cradles your face in his hands and gives you another kiss, “Okay, no more kisses until the end of the day, you’re too distracting.” And he turns away from you, walking out the door before he can even see the way you’re pouting. “Come on, let’s go. We’re running out of time.”

You nod and head after him.

***

“Garcia, you’re on speaker.” You say, pushing your phone into the middle of the conference table. The rest of the team had been brainstorming the last couple hours, but had gotten nothing. No evidence of anyone buying a taser recently, at least not locally. There was little that connected the victims, just that they were all young white women. 

“You guys, I… I really hate when this happens, but it seems that the unsub is trying to contact me.”

“What do you mean?” Hotch asks.

“I mean,” You can hear her typing quickly on her keyboard and suddenly there’s another video feed on the screen, “He obviously wants to show us something.”

“Can you trace this?” Reid asks.

“No,” She sighs, “His IP address keeps changing automatically every thirty seconds.”

“Agent Hotchner,” A distorted voice comes from behind the camera. In front of it there’s a tank of water and a girl frantically trying to swim with her hands and legs tied. “Have you figured it out yet?” The voice continues as he walks in front of the camera, never allowing the camera to see his face. You look closer at the girl, Tiffany, and see she has the consistent taser burns all over her body. “I’m tired of waiting.” He walks over to the girl, pulling her up out of the water as she screams before putting the taser next to her temple and pulling the trigger. She spasms for close to a minute before he drops her back in the water, her now lifeless body floating to the top. “I thought you were smarter than this.” The voice says before the feed cuts out.

Everyone is silent for a moment, “The hell was that about?” Prentiss finally interjects, looking to Hotch.

“Garcia, do you have that list for me I asked for this morning?” You say, swallowing away the bile that rises in your throat from witnessing Tiffany’s murder.

“Yes.” Garcia’s normally bubbly voice is quiet and subdued, “Yes, I do. The closest thing I could find was a series of murders back in the 90s. A bunch of women were tortured for hours in a salt water tank before their throats were finally slit and they were dumped behind various dumpsters in town. ME reports showed significant brain damage from repeated lack of oxygen. A Mister Garret Hughes was arrested for the murder, tried, and put to death… Oh boy, three weeks ago, right before our first victim popped up.”

You look at Aaron, “Does that sound familiar now?”

He nods slowly, “It was one of my first cases as lead profiler.”

“Well it sounds like Hughes’ death was the trigger.” Morgan says, “Hotch, maybe he blames you for Hughes’ death.”

“Judging from the body type on camera, it has to be a male, maybe a friend? Brother?” JJ muses.

“Or a son…” Aaron says, “Garcia, did Hughes have any children?”

“Uhhh, yes sir, he has a son named Cameron Hughes who was about seven at the time of the murders and is now twenty five.”

“What do we know about him?” You ask.

“Well, after his father was arrested, Cameron was put into foster care, his mom had left his dad years ago and seemed to drop off the map which sounds a lot to me like she was afraid of Garret.”

“Rightfully so.” JJ murmurs.

“Yeah. After that, Cameron bounced from home to home, reports of abuse from nearly every one until he turned 18. He got a job as a prison guard not long after and he’s been there ever since. And that explains how he was able to get a taser.”

“Any run-ins with the law?” You ask.

“Yeah, several when he was a kid, but after he turned eighteen and got his prison job he was squeaky clean.”

“What were the arrests for, Garcia?”

“Well, we have some petty theft, some fires set and… Oh, no.”

“What is it?”

“His last arrest when he was sixteen was for torturing and killing a neighbor’s dog… via drowning.”

“Do we have an address, Garcia?” 

“Already sent to your phones.”

Everyone starts grabbing things and running to the SUVs. “This can’t be where they’re holding them,” Spencer says as you all pile in and Aaron starts the car, “It’s too residential and it doesn’t match the geographical profile.”

“Well, let’s hope that we can bring him in or we find something in his house that tells us where he is holding them.” You say.

***

When you arrived, Aaron directed you, Morgan and JJ to the back. Aaron and Reid took the front while Emily and Rossi went around the side.

You were behind both Morgan and JJ, your guns raised when you spotted a shed behind the house. “You guys go in, I’ll check the shed out back.” You say. They both nod their heads and then head inside. You hear the distant sound of your team calling “Clear!” As you head to the shed, and you admit it, you let your guard down.

When you open the shed door, it’s dark and with your flashlight on, you turn to the right first, leaving your back exposed for Cameron to hit you over the head with a hammer. There’s no time to scream or fight back. A big guy, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and heads out a back door, into the woods where his truck is waiting for him to load you into.

***

At first, no one notices that you’re missing. To be truthful, JJ and Morgan had forgotten about the shed out back. But then Aaron looks up and around the house. There’s JJ and Morgan, carefully sorting through mail on the kitchen table. “Morgan, where’s Y/L/N?”

There’s a moment of silence when it dawns on all of them what may have happened and suddenly everyone’s guns are drawn and Morgan is sprinting to the shed, JJ and Aaron on his heels. When they walk into the shed, they see your badge and gun on the ground along with little dots of blood. And then the start of an engine. Aaron wastes no time running out the back door and starts shooting at the truck, but he’s already too far down the wooded path. 

He has you. He has you and Aaron is stuck here, useless, because there are no other leads. “Why was she out here by herself?” Hotch’s voice is deadly calm.

“I… she was behind us and then she said she was going to clear the shed and we just thought…” JJ trails off, “We thought she could handle it.”

It’s not their fault, he tries to remind himself. But the rage is boiling just beneath his skin. “Hotch, we’ll find her.” Reid says when he storms past, back into the house, “Something here will give him away.”

“There wasn’t a license plate on that truck.” Morgan says as they all follow Hotch back inside.

“What’s going on?” Rossi frowns as the rest of the team comes back in the house, “Was he out there?”

“He has Y/N.” Is all Hotch says before he starts ripping the house apart, trying to find some clue of where he would take you. He slams doors and curses to himself throughout and the rest of the team helps him look without a word.

“JJ?” Reid murmurs when he notices she’s crying as she looks through the house.

“I shouldn’t have let her go out there alone.” She says, her voice thick with tears, “It’s like when I left you alone all over again.”

“You know as well as I do she made that choice to go by herself. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.” JJ just shakes her head, “If we want to find her we need you to focus now. This unsub is arrogant, he won’t be expecting us to find him.”

They continue searching, seeing if Garcia can find any evidence of abandoned buildings nearby, but nothing. Until Cameron reached out to Garcia himself, again.

Garcia’s panicked voice fills Cameron’s home, “Guys, he’s here again and I can see Y/N.” 

Emily quickly opens a laptop and the stream fills the screen. Aaron fills with temporary relief at seeing you sitting on the floor in front of the camera. “No blindfold or gag, just like the other victims, only her wrists and ankles are tied.” Emily observes.

“If he didn’t blindfold her at all, she might be able to tell us where she is.” Reid says, and everyone knows he’s thinking of the coded message he gave this same team years ago when he was taken.

You sit there and stare at the camera silently. You don’t appear to be injured or hurt in any way, besides the blood that drips from your temple. You most likely have a concussion from the blunt trauma. “You know, Agent Hotchner,” Cameron no longer bothers to disguise his voice, “I debated for a while who to take from this team to hurt you the most. I researched you for years while my father rotted in jail. It’s a shame Foyet got to pretty miss Haley before I had the chance. I thought about taking Jack, but I draw the line at children. Feels wrong somehow, even to a psychopath like me.” 

He starts touching you and the chair beneath Hotch’s fingers creaks as he clenches his fists. You don’t show him any fear, no tears, you don’t even flinch away from his touch. “So I focused on the team, tried to see who you had the strongest relationship with. Who would hurt the most? Dr. Spencer Reid, boy genius who you treat like a son? Agent Morgan, the little brother you wished Sean had turned out to be? What about Agent Prentiss? She was so damn pretty and smart I thought you had to have been sleeping with her. But then,” He pulls your hair so hard, your head snaps back and you grunt. The closest thing to a reaction you’d given him so far, “I saw that you shared a hotel room with this one more than once when working cases together. I’ll give you props Hotchner,” He chuckles and lets out a whistle, “I didn’t even consider her because I thought she was so far out of your league. Nice work.” He produces a taser and pulls the trigger while pressing it to your ribcage and you convulse until he pulls his hand away.

“Oh, boy. This one’s going to be fun, aren’t you?”

“I have a name.” You grind out.

Cameron responds by ripping off your shirt and producing scissors to cut off your pants, “Yes, Y/N. I know your name. Time for a swim, I think.”

What Cameron doesn’t see as he undresses you is the way you close your eyes and take several deep breaths to calm yourself. Panicking leads to faster drownings. He picks you up and tosses you in his makeshift tank. Your body becomes perfectly still, everyone on the team looking at their screens in horror until you break the surface, taking in another breath.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Aaron does his best to keep the impatience out of his voice, but you scream for the first time when Cameron holds the taser to your side for more than a few seconds and it shatters him. 

“Sir, I’m trying everything, I can’t hack him. I’m so sorry.” She sniffles.

“Reid, give me something.” Hotch practically begs, but Reid looks back at him hopelessly and you’re screaming again. 

“Oh, God.” JJ says, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hotch kicks over his chair as you finally break and begin crying and then you’re under water again.

“We’re missing something, we have to be.” Rossi says.

Cameron pulls you up out of the water by your hair, “Are you listening, Agent Hotchner?” He screams as you cough the water out of your lungs, “Beg him to help you, baby, go on.”

You take some shuddering breaths and then you look at the camera, “Aaron,” You say breathlessly and Hotch feels like all the air has gotten sucked out of his lungs, “It’s beautiful here and I’m not afraid.” Cameron shoves you back under and tases you while you struggle.

“What the hell does that mean?” Morgan demands, looking at Hotch who’s staring at the laptop in awe.

“Garcia, how far is Mount Si from here?”

“Not far at all sir, maybe a couple of miles if that.”

“Are there any remote cabins or caves there that wouldn’t have come up on your initial search of Cameron?”

“Um, it’s possible that there is land there that is owned by a relative that wouldn’t have come up in his background, let me check and…” She sighs, “Yeah, there’s a small cabin right off of a hiking trail that looks like it used to belong to Cameron’s mother. She never sold it so it’s sat there empty since she left town.”

“Let’s go.” Hotch says, practically running out the door before anyone can follow, “Garcia, keep the audio of the stream on while we drive.”

“You got it, go get her, please.”

“How did you know?” Prentiss asks when they’re in the car.

“Y/N is afraid of heights. We went hiking once, early on, and I convinced her to climb a mountain with me. When she got to the top I asked her how she was feeling and she looked at me with this big smile on her face and said ‘It’s beautiful up here.’ And then she looked over the edge and I held her from behind and I asked her if she was scared and she said ‘No, I’m not afraid.’” Your screams ring out in the car and Hotch presses his foot down harder on the gas. They were almost there, you just needed to hold on a little longer.

“We’re gonna get her, Hotch.” Rossi says reassuringly from the back as your sobs ring through the car.

“Garcia, how does she look?” Hotch asks. He was just down the road now.

“As you would expect, sir.” She says quietly, “If you’re asking if I think he’s going to kill her anytime soon, no I don’t. He is having far too much fun with her. Please get that creepy man in cuffs.”

Aaron throws the car in park and everyone jumps out, pulling out their guns as they run in. “FBI, Cameron, drop the weapon.”

You’re dripping wet and shaking and out of the tank, barely able to stand. But you smile at Aaron as Cameron holds a knife to your abdomen. You thought when you had given him that hint that you’d be leading him to your body, you never expected to see him alive again. But here he was, your Aaron, prepared to rip the world apart to get you back alive.

“Thanks for the suggestion, Agent Hotchner, but it’d be so much more fun to see the look on your face when I do this--” Aaron fires the shot and it lands in Cameron’s forehead, killing him instantly, but not before he thrust the knife into your stomach.

“We need a medic, federal agent down.” He says quickly into his watch before running to your side.

Your eyes dart back and forth as he kneels next to you and warm blood starts pooling on your stomach. “Aaron?” You manage.

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You remembered.” You say softly, your eyes losing focus, “You found me.”

“Of course I remembered,” Hotch says, tears filling his eyes, “You gotta stay with me, Y/N. Stay awake, okay?”

“I’m so… tired.”

“I know, I know, but you have to keep your eyes open. Please.” He shouts over his shoulder, “Where’s my medic?!”

“I’m glad I… got to see you again, Aaron.”

“Don’t talk like that.” He’s crying now as you’re bleeding out in his arms. He can vaguely hear Morgan yell again for a medic.

Hotch’s memories get all scrambled up after that. He remembers you passing out in his arms, thinking you were gone as the medics forcefully remove you from him. The way the team tried to take him with them as you rode to the hospital, but he insisted on going with you.

He remembers that it was touch and go for a while in the ambulance. That they had to have Derek pull him away from you when they wheeled you into trauma. His arms were covered in blood and he shoved Morgan off him. 

“Hotch, relax.”

He eventually sat down in a waiting room seat, legs bouncing, “She was talking to me like she was about to die.”

“She’s not gonna be out of there anytime soon, why don’t you go wash the blood off your arms.” JJ says.

“Yeah.” He says and stands, “Yeah, right.”

When he’s gone down the hall the rest of the team look at each other, “I haven’t seen him like this since Haley.” Emily says.

“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Spencer’s voice is soft.

JJ puts an arm around him as Morgan’s phone rings, “Please tell me she’s okay.” Comes Penelope’s panicked voice on speaker.

“She’s in emergency surgery right now, we don’t know much.”

“And how’s Hotch?”

Morgan sighs, “She practically bled out in his arms, Garcia. He’s not good.”

She sighs, “I hate being across the country, call me when you hear something.”

Hotch walks back over, still looking dazed, but at least not covered in blood. They waited like that in silence for hours until the doctor came back over and Hotch stands immediately.

“We were able to stop the internal bleeding and stabilize her,” The doctor starts, “She’s in the recovery room now and should be waking up soon. She’ll have to stay in the hospital for at least a week to be monitored.”

The relief hits everyone in the room tenfold. Hotch feels like his legs might give out and there’s a collective sigh of relief from the rest of the team.

“Could we airlift her to DC?” Aaron asks. He doesn’t want you here by yourself.

“I’d like to at least monitor her overnight, but yes, that can be arranged.”

“Can we see her?” Spencer said from behind Aaron.

“Of course, follow me.”

Your eyes are still closed when they all file in, the doctor quietly exiting as they all crowd around your bed. Aaron is crying when your eyes begin to flutter open, a lazy smile forming on your face, “What happened?” You say slowly, your voice raspy.

“You just got out of surgery, you’re gonna be okay.” Aaron says.

“We were so worried about you.” Spencer’s voice cracks as he steps forward and gives you a hug.

“Oof.” You grimace a bit at the sudden weight, but manage to hug him back. “I’m fine, promise.”

The team all give you hugs and put Garcia on speaker so she can hear you alive and well before leaving Aaron alone with you. “Why are you crying, my love?” You ask, reaching out a hand to him.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, “I thought you died in my arms.”

You shake your head, “But I didn’t.”

“I can still hear your screams from when he was torturing you. I didn’t do enough to protect you.”

You flinch a bit at the mention of the torture, but recover quickly, “Aaron, our jobs come with a certain amount of risk. You know that. You can’t always protect me.”

“I know, I know, I just…” He wipes his tears with the heel of his hand, “He took you because of me.”

You shake your head, “He just got lucky that I went off by myself. He would’ve taken anyone who walked in by themselves. He wasn’t as diligent or organized as Foyet. I’m sure he did stalk us, but he had no solid plan to target me specifically.” He looks down at his hands sniffling, “Aaron, even if he did take me because of our relationship, I don’t care.”

“How can you say that?”

“Our relationship is also what saved me, don’t you realize that?”

“You would’ve found another way to tip us off--”

“The whole time I was there, I just kept thinking about you. I’m not like Reid or Prentiss, I can’t think like that under pressure. I was only able to think of that because I was thinking of you, of us the whole time.” He still can’t look at you and you can see tears still falling to the floor.

“Aaron, look at me.” You say gently and he complies. You beckon him over to the bed until he sits on the edge and you can touch his face, “I love you.” It’s the first time either of you have said it. You were so nervous to before, but nearly dying without telling him had scared you badly.

He manages a smile, “I love you too.”

You smile back at him and reach up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face down to meet yours. His kiss is gentle, as if he’s afraid of breaking you and then he rests his head just beneath your chin.

“They said you have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days.” You immediately groan and begin to protest, but he shushes you, “I’m going to arrange for you to be airlifted to DC tomorrow morning and I’ll stay with you until then. The rest of the team is flying home tonight.” You’re pouting at having to stay in the hospital and he cant help but laugh at you a bit, “Hey, it won’t be so bad. I’ll bring you all your favorite books and takeout and I’ll bring Jack, too when I can.”

“Will you bring me coffee in the morning before you go to work? Hospital coffee is terrible.”

He smiles, “Yes and I’ll even bring you a chocolate croissant from that bakery you love.”

You finally crack a smile, “You spoil me, Hotchner.”

He kisses your forehead, “I’ll probably spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

You smirk, “Hey, at least now we can both say a serial killer almost stabbed us to death. We even have matching scars.”

Despite himself, Aaron laughs, “You’re ridiculous.”

You giggle, “Yes, ridiculously in love with you, Aaron Hotchner.”

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Choose Your Own Whump 2

With A receiving the most votes on my last post, for this adventure we are going with a drugged Villain whumpee. Sorry about the generic name for this one, I really couldn’t think of anything else ^^

I hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for replying to the last post! As always, votes can be sent in through any method you want. Comments, asks, and PMs are all just fine. I’ll see it!

CW//Falling off a building, hostage situations, shapeshifting, medical abuse, extensive talk of sedatives, brief mention of a needle

Please note that the third scene of this piece is from the point of view of a drugged character, and thus the scene has some aspects that could be described as unreality. Please skip this scene if this would make you uncomfortable.

The video was grainy.

It was always grainy. That was the strange thing about it-- everyone carried around miniature computers in their pockets, equipped with tiny cameras that would have rivaled the most powerful devices of years prior. Any civilian could take a 4k quality video on some social media, but the moment anything actually important was happening, technology seemed to regress twenty years.

Hero supposed it didn’t matter. Their memory of the incident was certainly clear as day, better than any camera could ever capture.

And yet...

They clicked a button on the remote, and the clip restarted.

The sides of the screen were blocked out in fuzzy grey-- the video having been taken through the bars of a metal fence. Between them, the camera focused at first on the foot of a brown brick building, before panning upwards, only stopping upon reaching the roof. It took a moment for the visual to adjust, focusing against the glare of the sun overhead.

Two figures, on the building’s roof. Two figures seen so often together, in so many similar videos.

The standoff had taken from dawn till sunset. How Villain had gotten into the building unnoticed had yet to be fully understood, but, regardless of method, they wasted little time in taking hostage a group of professors, eating lunch together. A single one had been released, bringing with them a message:

“Everyone leaves. No one comes in. Everyone stays outside the fence.”

It had seemed like a trap, at first. Of course it had. It wouldn’t be the first time that Villain had played such a trick. After much debating, however, evacuation was deemed to be the best option, and the campus was soon barren.

The hours afterwards had been as long and hot as they had been nerve-wracking. The very thought of following orders from Villain made Hero’s stomach twist, but their orders were incredibly clear: Don’t do anything stupid.

It was an incredibly difficult order to follow.

Establishing a line of communication had been the hardest part. Villain had quickly disconnected any security cameras in the vicinity, alongside confiscating any technology their hostages might have held.

In the end, it was decided that a reporter would be the one to go in. One of the most recognizable faces in the city, and one that was neutral. Not fighting for either side, but representing the citizenry.

The whole plan bet on one fact: That the shapeshifting Hero could pull of the imitation.

It worked. At least, it worked for as long as it needed to. Villain accepted the olive branch, and allowed the supposed reporter to enter unharmed.

Of course, the illusion broke as soon as Hero opened their mouth. No matter how good they were at changing their shape, it did not change their voice. In the brief moment of confusion, the hostages had managed to make their escape.

Leaving only the two nemeses, and the building as their battlefield.

It was hard to remember the fight. They had waged so many battles against one another, they all seemed to blend together, at one point or another. There was broken glass, pushed over tables, exploding equipment, and then-

And then they were on the roof.

Villain was stupid, but they weren’t, well, they weren’t stupid. They may have had the moral compass of a kleptomaniac feline, and the brain cells to match, but they had common sense. A sense of self-preservation.

Forcing them to the edge of the roof... it was supposed to be like pushing them to a corner. Trapping them.

In the video, the two figures danced. Forward, and back, until one took the lead. Until they were up against the edge, with nowhere left to go.

They were supposed to stop. They weren’t supposed to fall.

They stopped their own fall, or at least they tried. They were telekinetic. Of course they did. But they were surprised, or confused, or, or something. They slowed themself down. But they did not stop. The force with which they struck the concrete parking lot below was more than enough to knock them out.

The video ended.

And... that was it. The end. Years and years of battles, some won, some lost, all ended. They should have been happy, and they were! They hated Villain, sincerely and truly hated them.

But no other villain fought like them. No other villain had their tongue, their wit. Their skill. Their fight.

Villain’s defeat should have been epic! The ultimate confrontation of good and evil, of chaos, and order.

Yet, their downfall was a simple trip.

In the corner of Hero’s TV screen, small white text helpfully reported to them just when that video had been recorded.

One year ago.

One year, since that day. Since Villain’s downfall. And now...

Hero’s phone buzzed. A text message. The confirmation of a meeting.

One whole year, and still, Hero’s mind was consumed by their lost nemesis.

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The diner was terribly busy, and yet, when Hacker walked through the door, Hero had no doubts as to their identity.

Despite their rather stereotypical appearance, there was nothing about the person’s manner that would have indicated the sheer amount of time they spent behind a computer screen. They greeted the receptionist, pointed to Hero, and exchanged a few words beyond that. With a smile, then, they parted, and made their way to Hero’s table.

Their manner only seemed strange when they sat down, and Hero noted that the way they smiled seemed to pain them.

“Is this seriously what you people act like?” They hissed through bared teeth. “Can I stop smiling now? Or will they look at me weird?”

“They’re already looking at you weird.”

“They are?”

“You- You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh thank god.” Immediately, their expression fell into one far more analytic. Far less friendly. “I, uh, don’t get out much.”

“Really?” Hero raised a brow incredulously. 

“I’ve got more important things to do than, uh, than going out. Anyways.” They stuck a hand outwards. It was partially covered by a fingerless glove. “I’m Hacker.”

“I figured.” Hero shook the offered hand. “I’m Hero, though I suppose you already know that.”

“You’d think people here would be, uh, a bit more in awe? It’s not everyday you get to eat in the same building as a superhero.”

“Keep your voice down, please.”

“Oh, sorry. Is it, like, a secret? You don’t have a secret identity, do you?”

“No. But when I’m out of costume, I’m not exactly that recognizable. So let’s keep it that way. Kapish?”

“Kapash. But, still, oh my god. This is so cool! A real life hero...”

“Yeah... Yeah. A real hero alright.”

A hero who could hardly focus during battle. A hero who infuriated their team leader more than they aided them.

“Anyways.” Hacker raised their head, a far more natural smile coming onto their face. “I have the... thing.”

“You mentioned that. It’s about Villain, right?”

“Mhm.”

The person across the booth leaned down, prying a laptop from a carrying case and placing it atop the table. It was a bulky thing, and as soon as it was turned on, the shrill sound of fans struggling not to overheat filled Hero’s head. Hacker clicked around a bit. They gripped the edges of the device, as if about to spin it around, before they stopped, frowning.

“It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?” They commented.

“Since Villain was captured. Yes. 374 days.”

“You remember?”

“Yes.”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

It was so direct. Hero couldn’t help but stutter:

“I don’t- Of course I don’t miss them. I hate them.”

Hacker looked up over the laptop screen to give them an incredulous look. It wasn’t a convincing lie.

“I don’t miss them.” Hero stood their ground. “But I want to make sure they’re contained.”

“I just... I don’t know if this is something you want to see. You’re trying to move on, and-”

“Show me it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If it’s something to do with their containment, I need to know about it. I can’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“Well, that’s not the problem here. If you’re sure.”

With a sigh, Hacker spun the computer around, so that it’s screen faced Hero.

They weren’t sure what they expected. Some kind of... deep web threat? A message from Villain? A copycat? An escape attempt?

But they didn’t get any of that. Instead, the screen displayed a simple PDF. Medical records. At the top, in bold letters and a rather ostentatious logo, the header read:

Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization

For the most part, the page was Greek to Hero. A slew of ID numbers and attending physicians with far too many acronyms following their names. What did make sense to them was the spreadsheet that made up most of the page, labelled:

Approved Daily Medication Dosage for Patient: Villain

The spreadsheet took up two pages with solid text. Hero did not recognize the medication names, of course, but they did not need to be a doctor to understand the entries written under the column labelled “Medication Purpose.”

Every single data cell, even as they scrolled to the bottom of the document, contained only one word. The same word.

Sedation

“This is...” Hero muttered, furrowing their brow. Scrolling up and down. This had to be wrong, somehow.

“I don’t understand most of it.” Hacker commented sheepishly. “But, uh, I have a few friends with some more medical knowledge than me. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s more than enough medication to sedate a fucking elephant- sorry, excuse my language.”

“It’s fine.” The confusion in their voice was rapidly melting to fury.

“Even for major surgical procedures... nothing near this level would ever be used.”

“This has to be a mistake.” Hero shook their head. “A mix-up. Maybe it’s like... all the medications the facility ordered. And they just labelled it wrong.”

“Well, if it’s a mistake, they’ve been making the exact same one for an entire year. I’ve got 374 of these files. Newest one just got uploaded a few hours ago.”

“And they’re always the same?”

“With some minor dosage adjustments, but yes. That’s not, um, that’s not all of it.”

Hacker reached over, dragging the computer back so that it faced them again. There was more clicking this time, along with typing at a speed that made Hero’s fingers hurt, just to watch it.

When the laptop was spun back around, this time, it was a video.

A camera feed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  

Villain felt about to choke on their tongue.

It wasn’t a new feeling. More or less, it was the only thing they felt, anymore. That heavy block of muscle in their mouth, threatening at any moment to block throat choke air no air no-

They were losing their words again. Words... wordsssssss... Voices. Voices spoke words. Sometimes, they did. Sometimes they grumbled and muttered and sputtered and murmured like a car murmured. Cars... or was it cats? No, cats didn’t murmur. They purred. What else did they do? Not bark... no, barking too loud for cats. Cat go mew mew, real quiet like.

Cat’s meow, that is a cat’s voice. There were other voices, too. Quiet like cats. Two of them, two voices. They knew those voices, those were the doctors’ voices. The doctors liked to talk a lot. They talked, but they did not see. Or... no. They were not seen. Villain did not see them. They wanted to, but their eyes were broken. The engines in their eyelids would not run anymore, would not open the garage door, Sally!

One of the doctors’ voices got closer. A million miles away, a hand was laid upon Villain’s wrist, flipping over their hand so that their palm faced downward.

“Let’s move it.”

It was a silly thing to say. Nothing moved in this place. Nothing that Villain could see, as their eyes were broken.

“Is the other vein healed enough?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

Silly words... Villain wanted to laugh, but their muscles were firmly locked away behind a padlock.

“Okay.” The doctor sounded so sad. Why were they so sad? Villain’s mouth was full of soil. The doctor was tired. “I’ll get the rest of the medicines.”

“We’re going 30 milligrams up from yesterday on the Propofol.”

“Oh? Why?”

“They opened their eyes, yesterday.”

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Hero felt sick. In the top right corner of the security footage, the same logo from the medical records was displayed. The Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization. Below it, a subtitle.

“Keeping the city safe.”

Was this safety? It shouldn’t have been. They had known, of course, what had happened to Villain after their capture and very brief hospital stay. It was what happened to all villains. They were sent to the rehab unit.

A therapy program. Helping villains to control their powers and reform their lives. To return them to the straight and narrow. But, now that Hero thought about it...

Villain was the only one who had never been released.

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Tell someone about what is happening - Who should Hero tell? (They are on a small team, as well as part of a larger Organization, for reference.)

B.) Attempt a more direct approach. Visit Villain in the rehab program - Should Hero try to rescue Villain immediately?

[veniteme]

Hunting for Gems

season preview

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

2k words

As you stand before the door to the waiting room, heart thudding loudly in your chest, you think back to when the KIFF boys were in your studio eating cake a week ago.

“What am I supposed to do?” you slap Rohan’s arm vigorously as you panic. “How am I supposed to act around him?” The rest of the boys had already left, allowing you to freak out in relative privacy.

You’ve been an avid fan of Ash Island since his days on High School Rapper 2. Once he started releasing music, your infatuation with him only increased. When Jay informed you that you’d be working with him for the entire season of Show Me the Money, your brain immediately worked itself into a frenzy. On one hand, you were excited to meet someone whose music you loved. On the other, how were you expected to function properly next to him with the entire world watching through a camera?

“Okay, first thing you need to do,” Rohan starts, “is stop hitting me! You may be weak, but if you hit me enough it starts to sting okay? And second, just be normal? Act how you usually do.” He makes it sound so easy, as if you won’t die on the spot the moment the two of you make eye contact.

“That is under the assumption that I am able to think with him sitting next to me. And alright, let’s say I am actually capable of saying more than two words in his presence, what if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks I’m weird or annoying?” You’ll be crushed if this person that you’ve admired for so long decides he doesnt like you.

“Then he’d be a good judge of character?” You hit Rohan even harder. “Ow! Relax, I was just kidding. Look, I’ve known the guy for a couple years now, and he has no right to call someone else weird. Plus, he’s one of the chillest guys I know. You’ll be fine. From what I’ve seen recently, the only time you need to be worried is when the cameras are on.”

“What do you mean?”

-----

While you stood outside the door, Ash is inside, staring nervously at the production crew setting up the cameras. Unlike you, he is not nervous about the two of you meeting. He’s worked with countless artists, featured on so many songs, he is used to interacting with people he didn’t know. What actually scares him is having to be a functioning human being in front of all these cameras.

He’s never done a such a big production like this, never seen so many cameras all pointed at him, capturing his every move. Thinking about all the eyes that will be watching him through that lens gives him anxiety. Normally, he’d be drinking right now to take off a bit of the edge. However, he doesn't think that would help with this cold bad boy image he is already starting to have. On top of being a jerk, the public will then think he was an alcoholic.

Just when he thinks he'll burst from nerves, you decide to walk through the door, a welcome distraction from all the thoughts running through his head.

-----

The first thing you see as you walk in is the production crew. All you are filming today are some short interviews to introduce the producer teams. They’ll be airing it as a teaser for the new season. You bow your head in greeting to the staff as you head to your seat. And that’s when you see him.

The two of you make eye contact, both looking up at the same time. And then you freeze; your brain short-circuits and for a second, all you can do is stare. Ash Island, the guy whose songs take up a good chunk of your playlist, is sitting there, right in front of you.

You break out of your stupor when you hear his voice. “Hey, what’s up?” he says casually. And you realize you’re being incredibly rude to someone who is older and a senior in the industry.

“Hello! I’m Saf. I’m a producer for H1GHR Music,” you introduce yourself officially.  

He chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. We’ve seen each other at the H1GHR-Ambition parties.”

“Right,” you say nervously. And you guys had met before, but you didn’t think he’d remember. He was always across the room or on the opposite end of the table, so you two never really interacted. In fact, this is the first time you’ve heard his voice, and not through a song on your phone.  

“So did you want to sit down?” he asks. You’ve just been standing in front of him for a while.  

“Oh!” you immediately take a seat. Now what are you supposed to say? Thankfully, he decides to fill the silence.

“You're friends with Rohan right?” he asks. Not really who you’re thinking about at the moment, but you'll take it.

“Yeah, I am. We're in the same crew,” you explain. “Why, did he say something about me?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. If Rohan said anything remotely embarrassing about you to Ash Island, you were ready to kill him.  

“Oh no, I just remembered him drunk-dialing me last night to wish me luck on the show.” You laughed, making a comment about how dumb Rohan was sometimes. And that’s how the rest of your conversation went until you started shooting, sharing dumb stories about your mutual friend.

-----

SHOW ME THE MONEY SEASON X

Team ASH ISLAND x SAF Q&A

The two are seated side-by-side in front of the camera. Ash Island is looking quite stiff and uncomfortable, while Saf has an easy smile on her face.

Please introduce yourselves.

After a glance at Ash Island, Saf begins her introduction with a bow.

Saf: Hello, everyone. My name is Saf, I’m a producer for H1GHR Music.

Following her lead, it seems Ash Island takes his first breath since the camera started rolling.

Ash Island: Hi, guys. I’m Ash Island from Ambition Musik.

Did you two know each other before the show?

Saf: Well, of course I don’t think there’s anyone interested in Korean hip hop right now that doesn’t know Ash Island. But we’ve also seen each other in passing at events and parties and such. This is my first time really talking to him though.

As she talks, Ash Island appears to loosen up just the slightest. He directs his gaze to Saf when he speaks.

Ash Island: [to Saf] You… can just call me Ash.

Saf looks at him in surprise, her cheeks just the slightest shade darker, undetectable to most.

-----

“WHY DID THEY EDIT IT LIKE THAT?” Rohan’s obnoxious laughter in the background is only furthering your agitation.

“Come on,” Rohan lets out between spurts of laughter. “That had nothing to do with the editing. Don’t tell me that wasn’t exactly how it felt when he looked at you.”

Unable to refute his claim, all you say is “Whatever.”

“Did they have to put in the romantic background music and CGI cherry blossoms though?” you complain.

Ignoring your best friend’s following fit of laughter, you begrudgingly hit play once again.

-----

“Duuuuude I didn’t realize you were so smooth!”

“Our Bition Baby is all grown up!”

“You can just call me Ash,” Changmo repeats in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ash asks, only slightly annoyed that his labelmates had interrupted his studio time. He wasn’t making much progress today anyway.

“Did you not watch the Show Me previews last night?” Hash Swan asks.

“No, I thought I’d avoid the embarrassment of seeing myself on national TV,” Ash replies. He was there when it happened, he didn’t need reminders of how awkward he was on camera.

“Alright, you have to watch this,” Leellamarz says, pulling up the reposted video on Youtube.

-----

You guys are the youngest producer team in the history of the show. Do you feel pressured by this fact?

Saf: [to Ash] Do you want me to answer this one?

He looks at her and nods wordlessly. She smiles at him in return before addressing the camera.

Saf: Of course, working next to such big names and artists can be quite intimidating. But I think as long as we put out work that we can be proud of, I will be satisfied.

Saf: But I would appreciate it if the viewers would look kindly upon us as it is our first time on this show. I’m kind of a wimp; I think I’d be pretty hurt if I saw we were receiving hate comments.

Saf’s smile indicates she’s only joking, and the production team can be heard laughing behind camera.

Ash: I doubt anyone in their right mind would send you hate.

Saf: Why not?

Ash: All you do is sit and smile and release music. What could anyone possibly say about you?

Saf: …I’ll take that as a compliment.

Ash: It was one.

-----

“I hope you know that if you break her heart,” Changmo starts, “I’m petitioning to kick you out of the company. I am NOT risking losing an invite to AOMG-H1GHR parties because of you.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. Glad to know you have so much faith in me. But also, chill out. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Yet? So you are planning on making a move?” Hash Swan questions. Ash sighs. Why are these guys reading so much into everything he says?

“No, I am not making a move, I barely know her,” Ash refutes. “She’s just a producer that I will be working with for the next couple months.” That day was the first time he’d ever talked to you. There is no reason to get excited about anything just yet, even if he does think you have a nice smile.

“Come on, Ash. She’s not just a producer,” Leellamarz points out. Ash is a bit wary of where he’s going with this-

“She’s a very cute producer.” -and rightfully so. Ash really can’t catch a break with these guys. They all burst out laughing, and Changmo gives Leella a high-five.

“Whatever,” Ash mutters. “Why the sudden interest in my love life anyway?”

“Wow, you’re not even gonna try and deny that you think she’s cute?” Hash asks. This guy is way too observant.

“I have eyes. How am I supposed to not think she’s cute?” Ash says bluntly.

“You know, contrary to what you may believe, not everybody has to find her cute,” Changmo says, mostly just to tease him. “Maybe she’s just not my type,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because she’s actually nice,” Ash retorts. “And we all know that isn’t your type.”

“That’s never been your type either, Ash, so why the sudden change of heart?” Leella asks.

“Maybe I’m looking for a change of pace,” Ash says with a noncommittal shrug. This is all hypothetical anyway. It’s not like he’s planning on asking you out or anything. He just thinks you’re cute, there is no reason for the guys to make such a big deal out of it.

“Yeah, well be careful. You’re going to make some very scary people mad if you mess around with her,” Changmo warns.

“Please, the H1GHR guys are like literally the nicest guys on the planet. I think I’m safe,” Ash says.

“That’s not who I’d be worried about if I were you.”

-----

a/n: let me know what you think!! was the official show part too short? are there parts that sound weird/awkward? first time writing full fics so i'm always open to feedback!

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Hate-W.L

“Can I get something soft about y/n dating will and he introduces her to the fans but they call her names and don't like her so will comforts her when she gets upset about it? “

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

Taglist: 

@daddydobrock​

___________

When filming, you already felt uneasy at the thought of Will posting the video. It was time to tell his fans about you two. The pair of you had started dating around three months ago and within those three months, you had been nothing but happy. Will always made you smile and his personality was golden. He ended up introducing you to his family and friends after a month and you had ended up doing the same. His friends and family adored you. George had made jokes about how Will didn't deserve you, Alex loved to talk to you one on one, and James practically treated you like a little sister. You two had ended up meeting through Tinder when George and Will had ended up making a video where George took control over an account made for Will. When George had gone to text you, Will had taken his phone away. There was just something about you that had made him feel like he couldn't have George mess with you. Will and you had started talking that night and from then on it was history. "Right, hello! Welcome back to the channel!" Will had started off his video. Today wasn't gonna be like his usual videos, instead it would be a video talking all about how you two had become a couple. You were nervous at the beginning, you were still nervous now but Will had eventually convinced you to film this video with him. What if the fans hated you? What if they convinced Will to dump you? You didn't want to lose him, he was one of the best things in your life. "Anyways, I have someone new for you all to meet," Will practically gushed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You flashed a smile to the camera. "This is Y/n and she's my new girlfriend." "Hello everyone!" You gave a wave to the camera as you let your head fall on Will's shoulder. "Me and Y/n started dating..." "Three months ago," You giggled, glancing up at the brunette. "At this point I've lost count since every day has felt like a dream with you, love," Will grinned, glancing down at you. Quickly, you took the chance to give him a quick kiss. The pair of you had eventually started to explain to the camera about how you two had met. "What even made you swipe right on me?" Will smiled down at you. He had moved his arm so it was now wrapped around your waist. "I was curious about why your bio said 'Top Shagger'," You responded with a small shrug. "And you were pretty cute looking." will let out a small laugh at your reply. God, you loved that laugh. It made your day. Being able to make him laugh was one of the best things ever. "Alright, why'd you keep Georgie from texting me something weird?" You questioned as soon as your boyfriend had finished his laughter session. "Same like you, you were gorgeous and your bio was amusing," Will answered. "I'm Fiji water, some people are toilet water," you nodded, remembering your classic line. "How many people did you get in your DMS anyways?" Will had another question. "Around 20 or less," You answered. Many of the guys were asking for nudes or for a simple hookup. It was aggravating, you just wanted to find someone who wanted a relationship that was kind, trustworthy, and had a sense of humor. Luckily, you came across Will. "Damn so I had competition," Will glanced at the camera, giving a look of uneasiness. "Not really, you won my heart by a landslide," you commented, still looking up at him. "Well that's good to hear," Will glanced back at you with a smile. Soon enough you two had finished up filming, only for Will to start up editing. It would usually take him between three to four hours to edit his video properly. At this point, you've learned to not constantly bug him, but you would still check up on him and bring him in a snack once or twice. "How's it coming along?" You spoke up as you entered his bedroom. "I'm about 2/3's done," Will let out a sigh as he pushed his headphones off of his head, letting them fall to his shoulders. "That's good," You gave a small smile, placing a plate of food down on his desk. "Thanks love," the brunette smiled up at you. "I know you're already editing," you bit your lip, looking at his monitor. The video had been paused to show Will had his arms wrapped around you as you both were smiling at one another. "But do you think you should post this?" "What's wrong?" Will let out a sigh, pulling you into his lap. You causally wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping your eyes on the paused video placed onto his monitor screen. "Are you sure they're going to like me? What if they completely hate me?" "Are you joking? It's impossible for someone to hate you," Will turned your head, making you look at him. "Don't worry, love. I'm positive the fans will love you." You were currently scrolling through the comments of the video Will had posted. And the fans took the news the complete opposite of how Will expected. The comments never stopped. There wasn't one person who seemed to like you. Each comment was nasty and filled with hate. 'She's so ugly, wtf.' 'Y/n's laugh is so fucking annoying.' 'Praying they don't last long.' 'How could Will ever be interested in her?' 'Maybe Y/n's blackmailing him or sum.' 'Can she just shut up for five seconds? She barely spares time to breathe.' You were already incredibly insecure about yourself, but these comments just made it worse. You knew they wouldn't accept you, let alone like you. You slammed your computer across, tossing it across the room. You had enough of looking at all the hate coming your way. Burying yourself under the blankets of your bed. You didn't want to see anyone, you didn't want to talk to anyone. You felt useless, like you had only got in the way of everything. What if Will saw all the comments and realized he didn't want you? The door of your bedroom had creaked open, along with the sound of footsteps. "Y/n? What's wrong?" Will. The pair of you had decided to have a movie night at your place. But now he was here, you were just anxious. He was probably going to break up with you tonight. Hesitantly, you pushed the covers off of yourself as you sat up. The sight of you made Will's heartbreak. You were crying. He hated seeing you like this. "Talk to me, love," Will let out a sigh, quickly sitting next to you. "I saw all the comments on the latest video you posted," You mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Your fans hate me." "What, I..." Will trailed off before anything could actually be said. He pulled out his phone, pulling up YouTube. After a few seconds wasted scrolling through the comments of the video, he found himself opening up Twitter. 'If anyone has a problem with Y/n, then can unsubscribe from me. I love her with all my heart and to think that my fans are sending her hate is disgusting, if I see this continue I'll quit YouTube in a heartbeat.' After hitting the post button, Will put his phone away, wrapping his arms around you. "I love you, y/n," He mumbled softly. "I love you too, Will," you replied, glancing up at your boyfriend. "Are you gonna leave me?" "Are you crazy?" A soft chuckle came from Will's lips, "You make my day, Y/n. I love being around you. You have no clue how lucky I am to have you. I adore you, love." You cracked a smile at Will's gentle words. There really wasn't a chance he was going to leave you. "Alright, turn on the TV, love. I'll go grab some snacks for us," Will gave a smile back as he released you from his grasp. You gave a small nod and grabbed the TV remote as Will left the room. Fans really couldn't get in the way of Will loving you.

[cescalr]

Why Is Draco Malfoy So Underrated?

A repost of a Quora answer because Quora hates me for some reason

@vivithefolle​ i take little convincing here I go -

SO!

You. Yeah, you. You, nebulous quora questioner, you think Malfoy is underrated, do you? Well I, CescaLR, am here to set the record straight. The following is the answer I posted to Quora, that was flagged with ‘answer may need improvement’, which means some asshole was trawling the answers to the question posted and didn’t like mine so they had the moderators hide it because said person doesn’t like differing opinions. This post is thereby an archive, so if my answer is never again allowed to see the light of day on Quora, at least my maths is visible elsewhere. 

Hopefully, this entertains you, tumblr user reading this post. Also, as fair warning, if you do like Draco Malfoy and somehow stumbled across this post, I recommend skipping it. 

Why is Draco Malfoy so underrated?

Fleur Lee-Ranger

Author of 857406 words of fanfiction and counting.

ANSWER:

HAHAHAHA.

Ha.

Ha.

hah…..

For god’s sake, I hope you’re not serious.

Let’s look at YouTube, first:

Does 2.2 million f*cking views on a woobie Draco edit seem like he’s underrated to you? Any character that gets 2.2 million views on an edit that interprets the character in a sympathetic, caring light…. Jesus Christ. They’re not underrated.

You could make a clear argument for them being overrated, by matter of fact!

The first result is his entire life story, and a redemption of the Malfoy family as a whole, and it’s… super popular!

look at that! 70k likes versus 1.7k dislikes. Let’s use my favourite maths thing once again: Ratios!!

(I hate ratios. The things I do to prove a point, eh?)

This video has 5201431 million views. It has around 70k likes, 1.1k dislikes. We’ll round 5201431, as 70k and 1.1k are both rounded numbers and I can’t be bothered to deal with numbers that are too complicated right now, it’s nearly nine pm. 5201431 -> 5.2 million. It’s the rounded number YouTube itself uses on the search page - check the first image if you don’t believe me, and since YouTube thinks that’s good enough, so will we.

5200000 : 70000 : 1100

52000 : 700 : 11

Divide all by 11 (and round awkward numbers, because we’re already dealing in rounded numbers anyway, which is kind of bad practice, but it’ll do for this context):

4,727 : 64 : 1

As I’ve proven before (not on Quora, you can probably find it in the comments of one of my fanfictions, I’ll end up moving it over here one day when I find the right question), fandom content engagement rates are always pretty bad. But honestly? every four thousand or so views, you get 64 likes, compared to just one dislike. That’s great! That’s incredible! I’d kill for those kinds of ratings!!

(Draco’d probably wimp out, though. hehe. Jokes, jokes.)

As for his woobie video:

2.3m : 152k : 715

2300000 : 153000 : 715

Nice, don’t need to remove any superfluous zeroes. Bad, for… well, your hypothesis, to put it nicely, since that means there are only seven hundred and fifteen goddamn dislikes on this video, what the f*ck, why do so many people like this b*stard child.

Ahem. Sorry, that’s rude to illegitimate children like myself. There is nothing wrong with having unmarried parents.

…Anyway, lets slim down that ratio:

3217 : 214 : 1

Holy sh*t. I would do more than kill for this ratio. Oh my god.

That’s some great engagement there. So many likes! Clearly, Draco dearie is a very popular boy! He’d love that. I hate this on principle. God am I glad 13 year old me didn’t really use YouTube (I watched gaming content and little else, didn’t even find fandom content until 2015) or I’d have contributed one of those likes, probably.

Oh wait, no! Never mind! I can’t have contributed one of those likes, because this f*cking video was posted last year!!!!!

LAST GODDAMN YEAR!!!!

Do you understand that? Do you - do you have any idea how - just how difficult it is to get that many views that quickly and with that good an engagement???? Do you???????? It has been, get this, seven, seven whole f*cking months, Less time than it takes to make a baby, and this f*cking video has 2,265,900!!! million!!!! views!!!! With a ratio of 214 likes to one goddamn dislike.

oh my god.

oh my god

oh my god

I’m having a minor mental breakdown. Jesus f*cking H Christ on a goddamn bike.

Look at these comments! Look at how many likes they have!! Oh my god!!!! Draco Malfoy might just be one of the most beloved characters ever to get this sort of reaction, for hell’s sake!

I don’t know what kind of dunderhead you are to not notice how f*cking popular this jackass little b*stard boy is, but god, the whiny little sh*t has more fans than oh, I don’t know. Someone really popular. Tom Holland? I don’t know celebrities. Sorry.

But my point is, for god’s sake, Malfoy isn’t underrated. I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under, my friend, but that sheer idolisation you so crave of your wimpy f*cking husband is right there in front of you! Just search his name, and you’ll see it front and goddamn centre. Those of us that don’t worship the ground he walks on are generally much more background.

For god’s sake, he’s a trope namer.

Draco In Leather Pants.

How much more evidence do you need than that?

Of course, I could be jumping the gun. You could be a fan of his that is frustrated by the fanon interpretation of his character. ‘Why is he reduced to a bad boy with a heart of gold when actually he’s a more complicated asshole with sh*tty morality and no backbone that gives a whole ass damn about his family but not much else?’ Good question! Blame Cassie Claire, though I suppose that’s my go-to for most things.

Seriously though; Draco Malfoy is not even remotely overrated. He’s a whiny, terrible, useless waste of space in the books; and in fandom, he’s transformed into a cool, collected, redeemable or outright good person who’s smart and talented and like, super hot you guys, doesn’t he look cute with Hermione/Harry/Insert Author’s Projected Character Here?!!!!

Also: Y’all are f*cking creeps for this shit:

THAT’S A SCENE FROM WHEN THE KID IS TWELVE, FOR GOD’S SAKE. I’m not even joking, half of you are nonces and I want nothing to do with you! ‘hot draco malfoy edits’ HE’S TWELVE

HE’S TWELVE

HE’S TWELVE.

Hot take time:

Draco Malfoy is overhyped, overrated, and oversexualised and I want all of this to stop, because you’re doing it to Tom Felton, when he was a child. A child! That’s creepy! Please do not make hot edits of children, thank you!!!!!

Someone call the police. I’m done with this f*cking fandom, oh my god.

(Also, if you think I edited that in like some sick weirdo might do, just go find that video and give it a watch. I wouldn’t if I were you, I’d believe me, because watching that video probably puts you on a watchlist somewhere.

It should.)

Okay. Deep breaths. It’s been a few months, this answer was flagged with the wonderfully opaque ‘this answer may need improvement’, and I’m back to refine this. I’m not taking anything out, but I’m adding some extra investigation. For posterity’s sake; the original answer only contained YouTube analysis. Let’s look through Archive Of Our Own, shall we?

As I showed in my answer re: the well-liked-ness of Lilly and Hermione, this is the number of total fics within the HP tag.

This is the number of tags when ‘Draco Malfoy’ is added to the ‘included characters’ filter.

So, in terms of ‘fandom work presence’ (AO3 is mostly fanfic, but it is not all fanfic, there are a few vids and some art on there, too) Malfoy’s ratio is thus:

254603:65469

3.8889… : 1

4 : 1

So, rounding up, for every four works on AO3, there is one that includes Draco dearie. Good lord, he’s pervasive, isn’t he? Can’t turn a corner in the fandom without seeing his pasty ferret face plastered all over the walls… lovely.

Now, once again - that wasn’t the best ratio. I didn’t remove bashing, for example, so not all those works will be positive (as in, since you think he’s underrated, that means - I assume - you think people don’t like him enough) so let’s go the long mile:

I will find a ratio for Mr Malfoy Jr’s fans, versus his haters, in terms of - how many fics bash Malfoy, and how many greatly enjoy his existence?

Add the bashing tag, and now let’s see how many fics there are with a) Draco in it, and b) Draco Bashing:

hahahhahagag;k;asdkf

Oh no!

Oh my god I dodn’t…. one second… give me just one second….

Right. Laughing fit over, okay. 17.

So, 65469 works with Draco present, 17 of which don’t like him overmuch, and 65452 like him just fine/present him as he appears in canon! Awesome. Of course, people who present him as he is in canon may not like him the way you want him to, so, not awesome? Hmm. I’m not sure how to filter for that. I suppose you wouldn’t want people who write him OOC, though, because that’s not rating him properly, is it? Should we add OOC to the bashing, to get people who don’t appreciate his… many positive character traits… to the extent that you would like?

Yes, I think we should.

Now, there’s no tag for ‘OOC Draco Malfoy’, because that would make my life too easy. And, I’m not going through 151 works to figure out which ones have Draco being the one OOC. If they’ve written one person OOC, and they’re self-aware enough to tag it, then I’m going to meanly assume they’ve written Draco OOC as well. When one person’s out of whack, I’ve found everyone else is, too, so I’m not just doing this to be a dick, I promise, it’s for a real, good, understandable reason, one that is not only because I really don’t want to have to do any maths more complicated than basic ratios.

So. 151 OOC works, 17 bashing works. 168 works of not properly appreciated Draco Malfoy, coming up, which takes our 65469 Draco works down to… 65301.

Well, that’s a lot, still.

So, there’s still some tags to remove, like Evil, and Abusive, and all that lark. I’ll go do that quickly, and come back with the maths.

(okay, but I do have to show this:)

(fourteen works in the ‘Evil’ draco tag?? are you serious???)

(oh and you can’t filter by Abusive Draco Malfoy, like that’s not a tag, so I can’t exclude it, but it really adds to the general atmosphere of ‘Draco Malfoy? Yeah he’s cool I like him’ that this fandom has going on, doesn’t it?)

Alright so! We really only could take away those 14 works. Okay.

By the way, just so you know - I didn’t exclude tags like ‘Death Eater Draco Malfoy’ and ‘Bully Draco Malfoy’ (if the latter even exists), because those are things that happen in canon, and when I think of a character as being ‘underrated’ I include not acknowledging their canon actions, the bad and the good. A character is only as good as their complexities run deep.

So.

For the ratio, I guess;

65469 : 151 : 17 : 14

4,676.3571… : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1

4,676 : 11 : 1 : 1

…

Hmm.

For every 4 thousand 6 hundred fics Draco appears in, 11 of them have OOC tagged, 1 of them has Draco Bashing tagged, and 1 of them has Evil Draco tagged. That is…

That is unfathomably good. I’m really, genuinely having a hard time picturing it. I really, honestly, don’t think there’s been a character as unquestionably overrated as Draco Malfoy in all of fandom, because, good lord, look at that ratio! People love the guy!

Let’s see the good draco malfoy tag, shall we?

Now, to be fair, most people don’t bother tagging any of this sort of thing, usually, so that’s a minor flaw in my ratio-ing. We can’t actually know exactly how many works laud Malfoy, or hate him, or feel ambivalent, because people don’t tag their shit properly. But I’m hoping this helps, at least a little. Anyway, 905! That’s a few. Not many, but certainly more than Evil or Bashing or even OOC.

65469 : 905 : 151 : 17 : 14

4,676.3571… : 64.6428 : 10.7857… : 1.2142… : 1

4,676 : 65 : 11 : 1 : 1

Yep. That’s not bad, not bad at all.

So. Most people seem to like him, if we’re honest. As I pointed out above, he’s a trope namer. If you didn’t click on the link for Draco In Leather Pants, here’s a brief summary from the TV Tropes page:

[ Transcription:

Sometimes, a fanwork will portray a villainous character in a more positive light. It can be done out of sympathy for the character, for shipping reasons, as a part of a role-reversal story, several of the aforementioned or for the variety of other reasons.

The common subjects of this treatment are characters who are wicked in a classy or cool way. A physically attractive villain is much more likely to be subject to this trope than a physically ugly one; Beauty = Goodness, after all, and shallow as it may be, it seems that, for some fans, this is the case even when the character's beauty only extends to their appearance. All Girls Want Bad Boys may be a factor with male villains getting a female fandom that views them through this lens. A badass villain will naturally be preferred by many of these over meeker heroic characters at times, as well. Ugly Cute villains also get this pretty easily. ]

So! There’s that. He named a trope all about appreciating a character perhaps (usually definitely) more than they deserve, so I wouldn’t call him ‘underrated’ by most general definitions of the word:

People seem to mostly believe him to be quite good, actually! Certainly enough to write about him a lot, to draw him a lot, to edit him a lot, to theorise about him a lot, to ship him with the main character so much that the 99th filter ever on AO3 was Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.

Hey, actually, that’s a good idea! Which filter id is Draco Malfoy?

Now, if I’m not mistaken, it’s been a while since I had to do this -

Draco Malfoy was the 1589th tag canonised in the tag system of AO3. Let’s check the Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter tag (which I know for certain was 99) to make sure:

And lo and behold, I was right. That’s mad. That’s mad!!!!

Ooh, I’ve found a fun trick

To change which rss feed you’re looking at, copy the https:// link up to .atom in the speech marks, and change the highlighted number. That shows you what uses that tag_ids: - in this case, 93 is Draco himself. The 93rd tag, dedicated to Draco Malfoy. Good lord, that’s insane! I guess there really weren’t many other things to prioritize at the time, but that’s still silly to me.

Fluff and Angst appears to be the fiftieth tag canonised, for comparison. Sometimes when you replace the rss feed’s ‘tag’ in the address bar it takes you to the tag’s page instead of the feed, because that tag doesn’t have an rss feed. The more you know!

Anyway, back on track: I think all of that, rss feeds, youtube analytics, fandom presence, all kind of proves my point:

Draco Malfoy is not underrated. He is, arguably, overrated as a character, but unarguably very popular within the greater Harry Potter fandom. Unpopular characters don’t tend to get paired with the lead, at the very least - and you can’t turn around in the Harry Potter fandom without seeing Drarry somewhere, can you?

[shotsbyshae]

Ok, what if it was tony's bday and he asks reader to give him a sex tape of her and Steve, But Steve only finds out about it when Tony shows the team I Love u baby♡♡♡♡

Happy Birthday Tony

Warnings: Language, Smutish-Smut Stuff

Here you go love! 

1 Week Earlier

“But it’s my birthday,” he says with a grin.

“So,” you fold your arms across your chest, “why would you even want something like that? Weirdo.”

“Oh p–lease, who doesn’t have a sex tape out there?” Tony’s question is rhetorical as he sits at his desk. “I know Romanoff does and the girl she’s in it with. First class. A-mazing. Wilson has more than one floating about, don’t get me started on Barnes, and we know I do.” There’s a devilish smirk on his face. He’s obviously proud of his tapes. “That only leaves Rogers. I know you and Rogers have been blowing off steam together.” He says the words with air quotes. “So, help me get some dirt on the boy scout.”

“No.”

“Come on,” he whines. “Please. For me.”

“As much as I love you, it’s not happening,” you remark. “That’s just weird.”

He folds his arms across his chest, “Okay then, you forced my hand.” He says the words with a finality that is scarily ominous. “I dare you.”

Your face falls, because in all the years you’ve known Tony, the two of you have always had a friendly game of dare going. Nothing too extreme, but you had never, ever backed down.

It’s a pride thing.

Tony enjoys being in charge, but you like feeling that sense of power too.

Maybe that’s why he likes you.

“Fine,” you say narrowing your eyes at him. “I’ll do it.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, “That’s my Princess.”

Present

The conference room is nearly full as you practically skip to your seat between Natasha and Steve. The smile on your face is mischievous and Sam furrows his brows at you from across the table, curious as to what you’re up to this early in the morning.

“You’re chipper,” Nat comments, lifting her coffee to her lips.

“Well, duh,” you smirk, trying to contain the urge to laugh. “Who wouldn’t be excited for Tony’s birthday party tonight?” There’s an audible groan from beside Wilson as Barnes rolls his eyes.

Stark walks into the room, giving you a slight smile and for a moment you feel a slight pang of guilt because you know Steve is going to be mortified. Tony grabs the attention of the room by clapping his hands together.

“Okay, before we get started,” he smiles to you as he points a finger in your direction. “My lovely protégé has already been so generous as to present me with a birthday gift and I think – now – is the perfect time to share it.” The smirk on his face only widens as he talks, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. get the lights please,” he instructs the AI and the fluorescent lighting in the room dims, as the projector screen at the front of the room comes to life.

The screen starts out black and you turn to Steve quickly as you whisper, “I’m so sorry. He dared me. You know how I am.”

Rogers raises a curious eyebrow at your cryptic words as music to Loren Gray’s Queen begins to blare through the speakers of the room. Words appear on the black screen at the front of the room: Happy Birthday Tony…Remember this the next time you challenge me.

The screen changes to a video of Tony sitting at his desk with his glasses on thoroughly absorbed in the paperwork in front of him and the computer screen beside him. The camera stays on him for a few moments before it glitches out and the visual is replaced with the same interior shot of Tony’s office. Only this time you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs wrapped easily around Steve’s waist as you pull him closer to you. The red dress your wearing bunching up around your thighs as you wrap your right hand tightly around the black tie he’s wearing. His mouth is on your neck and the music playing over the speakers barely drowns out the moan as Steve’s hips thrust into you. You roll your head to the side, making eye contact with the camera as a slow smile plays on your lips and you wink. Steve’s hand is in your hair, pulling your mouth back to his as the two of you devour each other.

“Oh damn,” Sam says under his breath.

Tony glances at you with a knowing smirk.

His desk. Well played.

Glancing over to Steve you see the wide-eyed look of utter shock and disbelief. He’s embarrassed but impressed. It was bold. You had nerve and suddenly he is aware as to the real reason behind your sudden urges over the past week and he swallows the lump that rises in his throat as he glances at you. The sheepish grin on your face confirms his thoughts and he drops his face into his palms.

“Oh fuck,” he says.

“Language Cap,” Tony is enjoying what he thinks is embarrassment on his friend’s face.

The screen in the front changes to Tony’s lab and shows him making adjusts to a prototype he’s working on and again the screen malfunctions for a moment before showing the lab again. Steve’s sitting on top of Stark’s usual work area. He’s wearing khakis, but no shirt because you have a couple different leads connected to patches across his chest. Standard vitals check. At least that’s what you had said. You look as if you just came from the gym in black leggings and a matching sports bra. Steve’s smirking as you move closer to him. Fingers trail along the firmness of his chest as you start to remove the sticky pads slowly. Once you’ve pulled the last one from him, Steve drags you closer to him, hooking his foot around the back of your thigh. His mouth crashes against yours for a moment before you pull away. Letting your lips kiss and nip their way along his neck and down the front of his chest as your fingers swiftly unbutton the khakis. You glance into the camera quickly, your tongue flicking against your lips, wetting them as you give a wink.

Audible noises are now heard from the rest of the team.

Uncomfortably turned on would be one way to describe it.  

Tony glances at you as the screen changes, “My lab – really?”

You grin, shrugging your shoulders innocently as the front of the room now shows Tony lounging on his sofa at home flipping through the channels with his remote.

“No,” Stark’s face falls as he looks up at the screen.

“Oh God,” Steve says with a shake of his head.

“You’re looking a little red pal,” Barnes says quietly from across the table.

The screen glitches and you are laying on Stark’s couch, the soft black dress you’re wearing had been a strategical choice. Steve’s body is stretched out on top of yours, one hand on your face and one roaming your side, as he kisses you softly for a few moments. Then as his lips leave yours, your head once again rolls to the side to give the camera a little smirk and a wink as Steve slips down your body. Your outside leg resting across his shoulder as he settles between your thighs, your hand twisting in his hair as your head slams back with a cry even the music can’t drown out.

“My girl,” the singsong voice in front of you states proudly, but Nat doesn’t turn her chair around, just lifts her hand up for you give her a high-five.

You do, as Tony shakes his head at you from across the table. You knew this wasn’t his idea of a sex tape.

This was so much better.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” Steve begins to ask you as the screen changes, and it shows Tony sleeping peacefully in his bed. That gives him his answer and he mutters under his breath, “Fuck me.”

“She already has,” Sam quips.

Stark looks peaceful in the center of the king-sized bed under a fluffy white duvet cover, with white pillowcases, and sheets. He glances up at the screen and his eyes go wide, “You didn’t.”

The screen glitches out again and under the duvet is a broad set of muscular, sweat-drenched shoulders. Muscles flexing every time his hips grind into yours.

“My bed!” Tony exclaims watching as you and Steve roll around in his sheets.

On the screen, it’s passionate kisses with nipping and biting, hips slowly grinding against yours causing your fingers to claw at those broad shoulders.

“God,” Nat says quietly. “I’m jealous. I miss hot, sweaty, call me daddy sex.”

“Really?” Steve chastises her

“SSHHHHH!” Wilson’s finger is against his lips.

“You think it’s hot?” you lean toward Nat’s chair as you admire yourself and Rogers. His fingers lacing with yours as he pins your arms to the mattress above your head. You teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

“I’d pay to watch,” the red-head smirks as Steve drops his head again.

On the screen, you glance over at the camera one last time, a final smirk and wink before you turn back to Steve, the thrusts deepening, your moans louder as the screen fades to black.

Sam starts the slow clap and Nat follows his lead as does Bucky. The lights come back up and Wilson’s smile is priceless as he begins, “I give it five stars. I thought it was tastefully done, didn’t you?” He looks over to Barnes for his opinion.

“Very tasteful,” the soldier replies giving you a thumbs up, his blue eyes shining brightly with amusement. “Settings were everything.”

“Shut up Barnes,” Tony stands up from the table.

“Happy Birthday Stark,” Bucky smirks at him.

“Happy Birthday Tony,” Nat folds her arms across her chest.

“Happy Birthday sir,” Sam comments as Tony starts to walk past him.

“Tony,” you call out to him, “where are you going?”

“Thanks to you assholes,” he glares back over to you and Steve. “I now I have to sell my house.”

“Sorry Tony,” Steve begins, holding his hands up innocently. “I had no idea what she was doing. I didn’t have any part in that.”

“Looks like you had a huge part in it Rogers.”

[rvnjun]

nct 127 reacts | gf overhears them call her clingy

request: Hiii! Can I request something where the 127 calls the gf clingy (but she overheard it) and she distances herself , barely talking to them and they don’t know why?:) warnings: angst? authors note: sorry this took so long babydoll and I changed up the req a bit!  Feedback and reblogs are very appreciated 

T a e i l

Taeil stared at your figure on the couch, your hands tightly curled around the remote and your eyes glued to the movie on the television. Something was wrong but he couldnt put his finger on it. He knew that there was something different about you but he didn't know what. “Y/n?” he called out, awaiting your response. You didn't even him spare him a glance as you mumbled a ‘huh’. “Are,,,aren't you gonna come and greet me?” he asked, voice wavering. Taeil hated how he sounded but he finally realized what was causing him a bother, you hadn't been greeting him when he arrived home anymore. “What's wrong?” he asked right after realizing what was the problem. Normally you were the type of person to not just burst out your emotions like that but before you could collect yourself, the tears were already dripping down your cheeks. “I,,I,,I-” you stopped for a second to collect your breath “-I overheard what you told Taeyong and im sorry for being so clingy.” Taeils eyes wavered at your words “Baby I didnt mean it like that,,Im sorry that I made you feel that way. I love how clingy you are, it shows me how much you love me,” Taeil softly spoke, pulling you in for a gentle hug.

T a e y o n g

Taeyong loved how clingy you could be, some days he wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. Afterall, it wasn't easy being the tough and strong leader of over 16 wild boys. Your arms were a safe haven, the one place we he truly felt like he could relax and not have to worry about anything. However, when Taeyong was truly feeling stressed he would take the anger and worries out on things that didn't make him angry. Which is how he ended up in the situation he was in. Tears burning your cheeks and eyes red and puffy. Your arms were tightly crossed around your chest as you struggled to get the words out. Taeyong hated seeing you this way and it pained him even more to know that it was his fault. “Y/n what you overheard was a private conversation with Johnny that I said under an enormous amount of stress and it wasn't true,” he calmly explained. Your tears momentarily halted as you brokenly asked “Are you sure?” in reassurance. Taeyong didn't say anything but open his arms for you. Immediately you ran to his arms as he tightly held you “I'm so sorry, Y/n.”

J o h n n y

Johnny sighed as he rubbed his temples. There was so much going on his life and he just wanted to lay in bed and cuddle with you. But you were angry with him and he couldn't figure out why. Between you and work he felt like he was being torn apart. Sighing heavily he looked up at you “Y/n I need you to tell me what's wrong otherwise I can't do anything about it,” Johnny stated trying to help the situation. “Im just being less clingy, that's what you wanted, right?’ you asked in a slightly sarcastic tone of voice. Johnny's brows furrowed as he racked his brain for answers, why would you think,,,,,Mark. “What did Mark tell you?” his anger was bubbling a little more. “Mark didn't tell me anything. I went to the dorms to drop off some stuff that you left when I heard you tell him I was annoyingly clingy so I left,” you explained the situation. “Y/n I,,I guess I didn't realize how much I love your clinginess until you stopped in. Im sorry,” he sighed while the weight finally lifted from your shoulders. You smiled and opened your arms, missing giving your giant teddy bear of a boyfriend hugs.

Y u t a

He stared out the window with a blank look on his face. The image of your sadden expression burning into his mind. It was his fault, really. You guys got into a pretty bad fight and he was just upset over that. While ranting to Sicheng about you and the whole ordeal he said that you were “overly clingy to the point it was creepy.” What he did not expect was for you to go to the practice room to apologize for the fight, overhearing the comments he made. Your face shown pure agony, his heart breaking more every millisecond. Regret. He felt regret that he didn't run after you to explain himself. “Im creepy,,huh?” your voice sounded shattered as you spoke with seemingly no emotion. “Y/n,,I didn't mean it like that I was just upset. You're not creepy and I don't know why I even said that,” Yuta said, now the one crying.”I mean at the time I meant it but now that i've calmed down I don't,,,can you please forgive me?” Yuta added hopelessly. Your whole body felt tired and like you'd spent the past hours running miles. You knew Yuta, that sometimes he said things he didn't mean. Almost like you were being pulled to him you wrapped your arms around his sitting figure, his head resting in your chest. “Im glad you dont care that i'm clingy”

D o y o u n g

Doyoung stared at the menu as he continued to talk about his relationship. He confided in Taeyong with private and personal problems, and trusted his advice. Sat at a table a few rows back your grip on the glass began to tighten the more he spoke. Sitting across from you, your dear friend watch with a saddened expression. “I thought things between you both were going good?,” she questioned, voice laced with obvious confusion. You didn’t say anything but placed some money on the table and sat up to leave. You couldn’t bare to stay there any longer, hearing the things Doyoung was saying about you was really hurting you. Once you arrived at your shared apartment you laid in bed and quietly wept. After a few hours your phone lit up showing that Doyoung was calling. Rolling to your side you ignored it, not wanting to talk to him just yet. A few more hours had passed when Doyoung barges into the apartment, confused and worried as to why you never answered his calls. “Y/n?,” he called our softly, carefully pushing the bedroom door open. Even in the dark room he could make out your silhouette in the bed. “Hey what’s wrong?,” he asked already knowing something was up. Despite wanting to yell at him you turned over and looked him dead in the eyes “Why are you being so clingy?” Was what you had asked with ill intentions. Immediately he understood your reasons behind not answering the phone. “You weren't supposed to hear that,” he simply said. You felt the bed dip as he took a seat upon the comfy thing. “Yeah and what else haven't I heard that I wasn't supposed to? What else have you been saying?” Doyoung could tell you were rightfully upset. “Y/n,,I,,I did mean it when I say you're clingy, but If I had a problem with it wouldn't I have told you? Im a straight up person,” Doyoung confessed, hands reaching over towards your figure. It was silent for a moment as you processed his words. Sighing heavily you rolled to face him  “Do you promise that it doesn't bother you severely?’ you questioned earning a nod from Doyoung. He leaned down a placed a gentle kiss on your cheek “I mean it.”

J a e h y u n

He always got a little ancy with the interviewers starts asking questions about their dating life. Its a question every idol dreads to hear but has to sit through anyway. Jaehyun, he is always tried to make a joke of it. He may have made it funny for all his fans but all his joke did was hurt the person he cared most about, you. You haven't been answering his texts or calls since the day that video went up. He pulled the mask tighter over his face and rushed to your apartment. Technically he wasn't supposed to leave the dorm today but he wanted to see your face. “Y/n,” he called out while banging on your door. “Y/n,,please open the door,” he said with more desperation. You slowly walked to the door,,feet stopping at the edge as you stared at it. “I know what i said hurt you and im sorry about that,” Jaehyun added, not even sure if you were there. Pressing your back against the door you slid down, Jaehyun doing the same on the other side. “I shouldn't have said that  gf who is clingy would be the worst, because for me, a gf who is clingy is the best. A gf who is clingy is the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Jaehyuns voice sounded broken. He needed to see your face, he needed to hug you and make sure everything was okay. The second he heard the sound of the door unlock his heart raced with excitement. You opened the door and pulled him in for a hug. Jaehyun tightly squeezed back and placed kisses on the top of your head. “Oh my god I missed you so much,” he said while bending down to place a kiss on your lips

W i n w i n

Winwin wasnt the type of person to be honest with his emotions but you could always read what he was thinking. “Y/n,,I didnt mean to call you clingy,,yes sometimes you a get a little attached but the only times it bothers me is when im already in a bad mood,” Winwin quietly explained. He felt upset with himself for ever saying those things about you when he knew that they were some of the things he loved the most. You wiped the tears from your eyes using the paws on your sweater. “Are you sure?” you questioned, unsure if he was being truthful. You could tell in the way he looked and in the way he was acting that something was bothering him. Winwin then did something that took you by surprise, he was never one to initiate romantic things first, it was always you. Reaching out, Winwin grabbed you by your waist and pulled your body flush against his. He looked into your eyes with an intense emotion before slowly leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue teasingly darting out. You two stayed like that a few seconds longer than you should have but when he pulled away you were flushed and out of breath. “I really do mean my apology, Y/n. I love you,” he quietly said, seemingly embarrassed with his previous actions.

J u n g w o o

Jungwoo stared at you for a few seconds, he brain racking over everything that had happened. “Why,,why are we breaking up I thought everything was fine?” he asked, tears already flowing like a hydrant. Seeing his broken face broke you even more. Your voice, barely above a whisper, finally came out “Because our communication isn't the best,,and no good relationship has bad communication.” Jungwoo hands grasped out for your wrist holding you in place and not letting you leave. “What should we tell eachother then? Y/n I cant have you go, you're the only thing that's holding me together right now,,please,” his voice cracked and he looked shattered. Your chest heaved up and down as loud sobs erupted from you. “I accidentally read your texts and I saw you tell Lucas I was clingy,,” you confessed, convinced that he would want to break up then. “That's what this is all about? Goodness Y/n you should've talked to me first. Yes you get clingy but tis not a serous issues, what's a serious issue is how hot you eat your food,” Jungwoo cracked a joke. Your tears fell even harder as you pulled him in for a hug. “I'm so sorry for ever suggesting it I should've talked to you first,” you cried like a little baby in his arms. Jungwoo swayed side to side, holding you tightly and cherishing every second of it.

M a r k

You often read over Marks lyrics, whether they were going to be used or nt you loved to read them. It always felt like you got a insight into what was really going on in that Canadians head. Your fingers flipped the page as you started on the next song. “Cling to me” was the title as you guessed since it was written sloppily at the top. Some of the words were smeared due to something having been spilt on it but you did your best to read it anyway. At first ti seemed like a light hearted song but as the lyrics progressed you realized it was about you. A song about how loving it was at first to have someone cling to you only for it to be over bearing and annoying. The door opened as Mark walked in, his eyes skimmed the room only to see you reading his journal. “Oh, I haven’t been writing lately,” he said, plopping down next to you. When you didn’t respond right away Mark noticed that you looked distraught. “y/n?” he questioned before his eyes slowly moved to the page. He felt his heart drop momentarily before his hand darted out to cover the page. “Don’t continue reading this, before you saying anything let me explain. I wrote this after our last fight and I was angry,,I didn't mean it. Flip the page,” Mark instructed while flipping the page for you seeing as you wouldn't listen. “I wrote this he next day after seeing what I wrote the previous night, I didn't mean to write those things, Y/n.” Holding back tears and wanting to listen to him you glanced up at the top “Eyes of an Angel” was the title of this song. Reading the lyrics you let the tears drop. “Eyes of an Angel” was a song about how you always saw him for him and how it was yours eyes that pulled him out of some of his darkest times. About how he was thankful that the first thing he got to see in the morning was your eyes staring back at him. Leaning over he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head “I really should rip that page out,” he mumbled while pulling your lips to his, giving you the sweetest and most gentle kiss he ever had

H a e c h a n

Haechan was a playful spirit, that was something everyone knew. Infact it were his light hearted jokes and his childish teasing that gave him a lot of fans, plus It didn't help that he was incredibly good-looking. Haechan was teasing Mark about how he never lets him hug him or give him kisses. Your feet padded against the ground as you made your way to the dorm, ready to finally drop off Haechans clothes that you stole and promised to return. “Yeah well you know who is really clingy?? Y/n,,sometimes I cant breath when Y/n is in the room-” you stopped in your tracks, dropped his clothes on the ground and spun around on your heels. “clingy,,but,,,Haechan,,with,,he,,me??” you mumbled incoherently to yourself. “-its not like I have a problem with that though, her clinginess is a big reason why I love her,” Haechan finished his sentence, confused as to why Mark was staring behind him funny. “I swear I heard someone,” Mark slowly walked towards the hallway, Haechan not far behind. Peaking over the corner Marks eyebrows went from being knitted in confusion to panic. “Okay Haechan, DON'T PANIC BUT-” Mark was quickly interrupted by the younger bright boy “WHAT DO YOU MEAN DON'T PANIC?? NOW IM PANICKING WITHOUT KNOWING WHATS WRONG,” the young boy yelled back. “Sorry,,,I uh,,,I think Y/n was here to drop off your clothes but for some reason she dropped them,” Mark directed Haechans line of sight to his clothes on the ground. “Fuck. She probably heard me calling her clingy and left,” Haechan quickly pushed past Mark, pace picking up as he attempted to catch you before you got back on the train. The second her caught sight of your hair, bouncing as you hurriedly walked he couldn't help but scream your name. You froze in place long enough for him to catch up, with his hands on his knees and his favorite hoodie in his hands. “You,,you didnt hear it all,,I called you clingy,,but I also said thats why I,,I love you,,please,,take this back and,,,come back to the dorm,” Haechan said in between heavy pants. “Oh my gosh im so stupid,,sorry Haechan,” you said with a giggle, putting his favorite hoodie on. He stared at you in disbelief for a few seconds before pulling you in for a tight hug. “Its not fair you look better in my stuff than I do.”

[tickletastic]

Milkshakes From Hell Challenge

Fandom: Smosh

Ship: N/A

Summary: Shayne is sick and tired of Damien always beating everyone when they play video games, so he spontaneously decides to implement a handicap to help everyone else out.

Notes: I accidentally made this kinda long? My bad bros

“Hello gamers and gentlebugs! Today we are going to be playing a personal favourite of mine, Super Smash Bros!” Damien was loud as he introduced the video, everyone around him cheering in response. “We are going to be playing four versus four, and every time someone loses they will have to drink a mystery milkshake from one of the glasses in front of us!”

Shayne had started to absentmindedly flick the shell of Damien’s ear, and was caught off-guard when Damien turned around to face him. “First up will be me, Shayne, Lasercorn, and Courtney! The first one out will be replaced by Ian or Sarah in the next round.”

The four of them equipped themselves with remotes, going through the motions to choose their characters.

Shayne looked directly into the camera to his left, putting his hand in front of his mouth as if to whisper, “Damien once told me that nobody good ever plays as Kirby, so I think I might just prove him wrong.”

Damien laughed in response, shaking his head back and forth. “No way Shayne. Don’t worry though, maybe Matt’ll bring you a tissue box so you can wipe up your loser tears.”

The comment brought about laughter from the rest of the cast, and from behind the camera Matt Raub could be heard disagreeing with Damien’s statement.

They quickly finished up with choosing their characters, Lasercorn as Bowser, Courtney as Jigglypuff, Damien as Pit, and Shayne as Kirby. They randomized the stage and ended up in Luigi’s Mansion.

As soon as the round started, Damien was at Shayne, repeatedly killing him every time he respawned, leaving no room or time for Shayne to move from the platform and try to run or fight back. Shayne started yelling at Damien, the two of them bickering back and forth about Damien’s strategy. 

“Like an old married couple,” Lasercorn mouthed to the camera. 

“Oh no! Trouble in paradise for Shaymien!” Courtney yelled in a high-pitched voice, shaking her head about so her hair tousled a little.

Shayne’s yelling got louder and louder over time as he realized that nobody else playing had been killed as many times as he had, thanks to Damien. When Damien realized the same, he backed off and started to go hard on Lasercorn. Of course, it was too late, and the round ended with Shayne as the loser, all thanks to Damien. 

“This is your fault, asshole,” Shayne grumbled while placing his controller down, looking towards the glasses on the table. He ended up picking a green milkshake, picking it up and sniffing it before moving it away from his face in disgust. “I think I already know what this is, and I don’t like it.”

“Just frickin’ drink it bro,” Damien responded in a dramatic valley girl accent.

Shayne glared at Damien, sticking up his middle-finger in the direction of his best friend. “Fuck you Dami, you’re the sole reason for my suffering. You should be drinking this shit.”

Damien laughed, and Sarah extended her hand, placing it on Shayne’s shoulder. “C’mon, just drink it you big baby.” 

Shayne skipped the straw all together, placing his lips on the rim of the milkshake glass, effectively getting whipped cream all over his face. When he had finished, he ate the cherry on top as he felt his face heat up. 

“Wait, Shayne, what is it?” Sarah inquired, making note of how red his face was going. 

Shayne started to cough, doubling over and spitting into a bucket that had been provided to him. It was exactly what he had suspected, and he attempted to explain through his coughing, “It’s wasabi.”

“Totally gross dude, that would definitely not bring any boys to your yard,” Damien laughed, once again speaking in a silly voice. The only response he received was yet another rude gesture made with Shayne’s hand.

Shayne got a glass of milk, and went back to sit on the couch, sitting behind where Damien was sitting on the other couch. Ian quickly took Shayne’s previous seat, switching the character to Charizard. 

The round quickly started up, and it had been a pretty even fight between Ian, Courtney, and Lasercorn. Damien was trying to go easy, but he still had yet to die. Right before the end of the round, Damien blasted Courtney out of the map, and she ended up losing. 

“You suck, Damien!” Courtney shouted, pretending to throw a fit in response to her loss. She picked up a glass that was reddish-pink in colour, “I really hope this is cherry.”

She gagged a little when she drank it, immediately stopping once she had the taste in her mouth. 

“The whole thing, Court! You gotta drink the whole thing. If I had to suffer through it, so do you,” Shayne yelled when she attempted to place the glass down.

“Bro, I’ll actually puke. This tastes like straight-up shit. I actually cannot drink the rest of this.” Courtney put the glass down, spitting into the bucket. 

“You gotta drink it, Courtney,” Matt said from beyond the camera. 

Courtney let out a whining sound before bringing the straw back to her mouth. She plugged her nose and finished it, immediately grabbing the bucket and spitting into it. “That was disgusting.”

“What’d you drink, Miss Courtney?” Damien asked.

“Actual shit would be my best guess.”

“Wrong! It was dog food.” Matt was laughing as he watched Courtney gag into the bucket again. 

“Gross.”

Courtney sat to Shayne’s right on the couch in the back as Sarah took her seat. Sarah chose Rosalina and Luma, even though Lasercorn advised her against it, and they started the round. Shayne felt that Damien was doing a little too well, as he had been the whole time, but he didn’t act on it. 

Lasercorn ended up losing, drinking a milkshake that ended up being surprisingly good, cereal and milk. 

“I think Damien has had way too much practice in this game, I think it would be fair if we gave him a handicap, don’t you guys agree?” Shayne asked everyone else, all of which seemed to agree.

“Sounds perfectly fair to me,” Sarah laughed, ruffling Damien’s hair.

“Nothing will deter me, I will always come out on top!” Damien announced, punching his fists into the air. 

“We’ll see about that.”

Shayne waited until the game had started, scooting forwards so he was sitting on the edge of the couch. He rested his wrists on the back of the couch above Damien’s head, knowing that Damien would be able to feel the groove in the couch, trying to add suspense. 

Damien decided that this round he would go after Ian, knocking Ian out multiple times like how he had done to Shayne.

“Damien, chill! C’mon Shayne, if you want to take Damien out then I think the time is now,” Ian begged, taking his eyes off of the screen for a second to look Shayne in his eyes.

Shayne laughed in response before he started to poke Damien, lightly at first, in his upper ribs. Without being behind Damien, you wouldn’t be able to see Shayne’s wiggling fingers, but Damien had started to squirm comedically in his seat. 

“Shanye don’t do that,” Damien teased, purposely mispronouncing his best friend’s name. 

“Uh, I’m just trying to make it fair for everyone else that’s playing. I’m doing the Lord’s work,” Shayne teased back. 

Shayne slipped his fingers under Damien’s arms, and Damien’s own mouth betrayed him. He started to giggle, trying to squirm away from his fingers while still paying attention to the game. He was still beating up Ian pretty bad in-game, but his attacks were getting weaker and weaker as time went on. At this point, everyone else had noticed Damien’s little predicament, and Sarah could feel his wiggling as she sat next to him on the couch. 

“What’s wrong Damien, a little ants in your pants?” Sarah teased him, taking advantage of Damien’s weakened state in order to help Ian beat him up. 

Courtney scooted closer to Shayne and reached out her own fingers, laughing when Damien tried to curl up on himself, bringing his knees onto the couch. 

“I alwahahays come out on top,” Damien exclaimed, trying to get back into his previous groove despite the fingers that were tickling him. Courtney wiggled the fingers of one of her hands on Damien’s neck, watching as he brought his shoulder up to meet his ear. 

The game came to an end, and Sarah ended up losing the round. Shayne started to wiggle his fingers faster over Damien’s ribs during the break in playing, and Damien was quick to curl in on himself into the couch when Sarah got up, giggling into his hands as he tried to use his elbows to block the attacking fingers.

“St-stahahap it! Dohohon’t do that, we’re nohohot even plahahaying!” Damien squealed when one of Shayne’s hands slipped under his arm again. 

Shayne stopped for a moment, Courtney following suit, “let’s save it for the next round.”

They watched as Sarah chose a purple milkshake, jumping straight in and chugging the entire thing. When she finished, there was a wide smile across her face. “It’s blueberry! This is amazing!”

Courtney started clapping, inviting Sarah to sit next to her as Shayne got up to sit on the front couch next to Damien. 

“I can go easy on you, but I’ll still win,” Damien told Ian, looking over at him. “This round, I will play as Wii Fit Trainer.”

Ian stuck out his hand to shake, “may the best gamer win.”

Shayne was immediate with Damien’s handicap when the round started, wiggling his fingers fast and rough over Damien’s tummy. Damien’s laughter was loud and bubbly as he tried to dodge Shayne’s fingers. He once again felt Courtney’s fingers join the mix, spidering up and down his ribs from behind. 

“Why are you laughing Day? Huh? What’s so funny, buddy?” Shayne teased.

Damien snorted softly, shaking his head rapidly. “Thihihis isn’t fair!”

Lasercorn laughed, looking at Damien, “you think this isn’t fair? What’s not fair was expecting us to win Smash Bros against you, someone who definitely has at least 200 hours of gameplay, without any handicap.”

“Honestly!” Courtney agreed, digging her fingers in harder. 

Damien cried out, trying to prevent his body from betraying him and forcing his head back. 

“How am I still losing?” Ian questioned angrily, simply trying to dodge Damien’s attacks instead of initiating his own at that point. 

“Maybe I can help with that,” Sarah responded giddily.

Damien started begging for Sarah not to, but he knew he was doomed when he felt her fingers under his arms, where Shayne’s had been only a round earlier. 

Damien yelled out and dropped his remote to the ground, covering his face with his hands. Even though he wasn’t even playing, Ian was still pretty behind from before, so Sarah, Shayne, and Courtney continued their torture to make sure that Damien couldn’t reach for his remote. Damien’s laughter was bubbly and high-pitched, soft snorts and hiccups laced in between. Damien couldn’t help but beg for them to stop, twitching erratically as the fingers continued to prod him. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Ian exclaimed, tossing his remote onto his chair as he got up and cheered. 

Sarah removed her fingers, and Courtney did the same, ruffling Damien’s hair. Shayne kept up his fingers, knowing his best friend well enough to know what tickles would drive him crazy. 

“Shayne, buddy, I think you might kill Damien,” Courtney reasoned, putting her hand on Shayne’s shoulder. Damien’s face had become pretty red, and his laughter was becoming more hiccups than giggles. 

When Shayne stopped, Damien instantly curled into a ball, bringing his knees up onto the couch, his face still hidden behind his hands. 

“How adorable,” Sarah cooed, looking down at Damien on the couch. 

Damien’s giggling went on for a few minutes, his body shaking with every giggle, and when he finally calmed down he was holding his ribs. He sat back up on the couch, panting softly while he reached for the final milkshake. 

The milkshake was dark brown, with small specks of red in it. He definitely wasn’t excited to drink it. He looked at Ian, playfully glaring, “this drink would have been yours if everyone weren’t plotting against me.”

Damien skipped the straw, much like Shayne had, and chugged it in a few seconds. His face, which had began to lose its redness since he had calmed, started to turn red again. 

“What is it?” Ian asked excitedly. 

“Chocolate and hell,” Damien started to cough violently, searching for a drink. 

“Matt?” Sarah asked, looking over at him. 

“It is leftover ghost pepper chocolate from our Mario Party video!”

Damien rapidly consumed the milk that was brought to him, trying to fan the heat from his tongue as Ian did the video’s outro. 

“I hate you guys,” Were the final words that Damien muttered before running out into the kitchen to get more milk, and they were the final words that made it into the video.

[itsclydebitches]

3 topics this time!

1.) I was watching Sarcastic Chorus’ video on Star Vs The Forces of Evil, and near the end there was a comment that stuck with me. “These ideas are present, but not fully explored. I like to call them the window shopping of ideas.”

And that was just such a perfect way of describing it. When I first heard it, I immediately thought of My Hero Academia and RWBY. And while both have this problem in spades, RWBY is much more obvious about it. Every single time RWBY introduces a concept they’ll look at it, try it on for a bit, and then dump it on the floor for other people to deal with, and then leave without buying into anything.

Raven? Dumped. Beacon? Dumped. Has anyone seen Tai? Glynda? Sun? Are the grimm still roaming around? Are we sure that Salem hasn’t yet retrieved the relic from Beacon? Wasn’t Nora supposed to get development? Are she and Ren still having problems? Shouldn’t Jaune be learning how to control his semblance better? Especially since it’s something so helpful? Didn’t Robyn need immediate medical attention? But she somehow survived? And is perfectly okay? How? Wasn’t she in a serious medical condition? Is Haven still in chaos? Where is Watts? Is he locked up? Or did he escape while the mains were throwing their temper tantrums? Where’s Tyrian? Where are all of the other students? All dumped. Little to no explanation, and off to the next shop.

2.) I disappeared for a bit after your recap because I was so purely infuriated with the last two episodes. Ironwood shooting Oscar feels ignorable to me in a way because it’s such an out of left field, ooc moment, that my brain is just refusing to acknowledge it. It’s horrible, terrible writing. And it feels a lot like shark jumping.

But as someone who started writing fanfiction in middle school, I get where they were coming from. They wanted a fall from grace story. Cool. Got it. But that takes time. If they wanted to do this properly, it should have been given much more time. Hit the topic episode 1 of the season and devote little time to anything else. The election? Scrap it. Overall it was barely relevant. Robyn. Skip it. Again, barely relevant. Don’t have Ruby&Co hiding info. That takes up time and attention. Have them put all of their cards on the table immediately. (It also serves to not make them hypocrites.) Give the teams another solution to save everyone. (At least a reasonably feasible one.)

Have the kids argue it out. Have Ironwood refuse to budge because they’ve already put too much time into the plan before Ruby and friends came along. Have Weiss go to her mother ask her to set up a meeting with the council to protest what Ironwood is doing. And have her gain their trust by revealing what her father has been doing. If you really want to do this in such little time, it’s possible, but you have to dedicate the time that you do have to it. If you don’t want to do that, and you don’t want to pace it out for another season, then scrap it. In the overall story for the show Ironwood being evil is wholly unnecessary. It adds nothing  to the show. Especially since they’ve already done this twist.

You could also make it so that the Ace Ops were going behind Ironwood’s back to betray him to Salem. Have the ace ops getting along with the mains to gather information. You could also have had Ironwood going down a dark path since his reintroduction. Have him plant spyware on them. Have him in shadows. Have him looking menacing in scenes. Alluding to terrible things that he might be doing. Looking at secret files. Messing with the relic. But for the love of god, don’t do what you’ve done. It was messy and lazy. If you can’t (or don’t want to) devote the time and effort to make this work, then remove it from your story.

3.) There was an article about the fan backlash regarding Clover’s death. In it, it talked about how anyone upset was just a whiny woman who was upset that she can’t fantasize about two gay men. And that it wasn’t queerbaiting or burying your gays because Clover wasn’t officially canonized as such. And that the show has Bumblebee, so it can’t be doing either of those things. And I was so disgusted by it and the comments that followed that I had to get off the internet for awhile. There’s just so much wrong with that.

No, Clover was not said to be anything other than straight in canon. (He wasn’t said to be straight either, so…) However, if we are only going with what has explicitly been stated in the show; then I will not be accepting Bumblebee as a legitimate point for the show from the same people any longer.

Do they seem to be headed into a relationship? Sure. And I hope that it gets proper time and follow through. But if we’re only accepting relationships and sexualities by being told in universe, then you can’t use that as a shield. Because nothing has been said. The writers could change their minds, place them in relationships with male characters, say that they’re straight (you better not RT, do not take this as a legitimate idea to do) and act like nothing ever happened. But it wouldn’t matter, according to this logic, because they never technically canonized it. And I know that it’s a little different, given that we’re shown Blake and Yang having signs of romance feelings for each other, but by this argument, nothing matters unless we’re spoon fed information. And  that brings me to my next point.

In the history of media wlw pairings have always been more ‘acceptable’ than mlm ones. Because there’s a history of denial and fetishizing them. It it’s women, then of course they’re all over each other! They’re women! With all those emotions and need for physical contact! If they’re in a relationship with another woman? That’s fine! It’s not a real relationship! They’re just playing! They need a man! And just imagine! Two attractive women being attracted to you, good sir! And imagine being such a studly man that these women change their sexualities just for you! Women are fickle after all! They change their minds all the time! 

A man in a relationship with another man? Is seen as unnatural. Because straight men can’t fantasize about it. They can’t fetishize it. And therefore, there’s no need for it in media. They don’t want it there. And I don’t want to accuse the writers at RWBY of specifically thinking this way, but it is the way media tends to go. And while the lead characters are women, and a good amount of the fandom are women, there’s still room to question if this is what’s happening. The main leads are all young, thin, and conventionally attractive. Even when in a place that marked by how cold it is, the clothes are more for style and having the girls look attractive over function. The only one of them that looks even remotely clothed appropriately for the weather is Weiss. And when you get to the male characters, they’re either evil, dead, or given so little character that half the time they’re easy to forget. Because the story nor the writing is interested in men.

Also, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend of the writing suddenly getting rid of characters that fans pair with Qrow. First Ozpin, then Ironwood, then Clover. You could probably make an argument for Tai being shunted off once that started to gain traction in fandom as well. It’s creepy. 

(Sorry if anything is phrased badly. One of the problems I have with social things is that I never know if I’ve phrased something well enough to get my point across without being offensive. Still working on it, so let me know!)

***

Response under the cut! 

1. absolutely love that phrase: “Window shopping ideas.” I feel like I may have heard it before, but not enough for it to stick. It really is perfect though. The story looks at something, seems to consider it seriously, maybe even tries it on… but in the end doesn’t commit. We move onto the next piece of clothing—or even the next store—without, ultimately, having achieved anything other than introducing the possibility of buying a new outfit (telling a cohesive story). One of the most common compliments I hear RWBY get, and one I agree with, is that it has so many cool ideas. The problem is this isn’t a tumblr post going, “Here are all my fun headcanons, random concepts, and nifty details vaguely held together by a broad plot.” Cool ideas alone isn’t enough to carry a mainstream story a lot of people are paying for, certainly not one as long and complex as RWBY has become. Granted, every story has window shopping to a certain extent. We can acknowledge that there are different levels: 

Dropping Glynda is super understandable largely due to the issues surrounding her voice actress. Finding someone new for Qrow is one thing because he’s still actively a part of the plot, but if you’ve lost an actress for a character currently off screen, it’s tempting to just keep her off screen. I get that. It’s an arguably smart sacrifice. 

Dropping Jaune’s development is somewhat understandable because we acknowledge that change within a cast this size has to cycle. Jaune got to improve last volume through figuring out how to heal that guy’s arm and amplify Ren’s semblance. So his development takes a backseat the next volume to make room for others’. Problem is… 

Dropping something like Nora and Ren’s development is both Not Good and actively hurting the justification behind dropping other things (like Jaune). What did we learn about Ren and Nora this volume? Nothing. There was no insight into Nora like we were led to believe there would be. Ren obviously has a lot of stuff he’s trying to work through, but the story actively kept him from working through it by silencing him with a kiss. And the kiss itself? Great in regards to moving forward with their romantic relationship, but we already knew that relationship existed. We were clear about Ren and Nora being a couple up until Ren voiced hesitation… which, as said, was then ignored. The kiss achieved little in the grand scheme of things and, unlike something like Blake/Yang, doesn’t function to provide absolutely needed proof. Again, it’s good we got it, it just wasn’t done particularly well and was done in place of much more important development. I don’t need them to kiss this second because their moments in Volume 4-6 firmly established that they’re a couple. I do need to know more about who Nora is, whether Ren agrees with Ironwood, and why he’s so torn about this relationship that just the concept of hitting a fake version of Nora in battle makes him cry. (Because seriously, don’t they spar? That was clearly something much bigger than just not wanting to his his girlfriend.) 

So… yeah. A lot of window shopping. Which connects to: 

2. The fact that yeah, there was too much going on this volume which resulted in none of it getting the time it needed. We keep coming back to the question of “What is the point?” What was the point of resurrecting Penny if she wasn’t going to grow as a person, or help Ruby do the same? What’s the point of spending so much time on Robyn learning to trust Ironwood only for her to immediately reject him on the airship? What’s the point of devoting time to Qrow and Clover’s friendship if Qrow thinks so little of it he’ll team up with Tyrian instead? What was the point of framing Penny? What’s the point of spending SO much time showing justified and sympathetic scenes of Ironwood if you’re going to take a sharp right and randomly make him shoot a kid in the finale? What’s the point of the group being devastated by Ozpin lying to them if they’re just going to turn around and tell the same lies? Nothing amounted to anything. All the time we spent developing Thing A was dropped for Thing B. Continuing the analogy, the characters spent a whole volume admiring the red dress, checking the price, talking about reasons why this was the perfect purchase for them to make… only to turn around and buy a pair of pants instead, something we haven’t even seen them look at, let alone try on. The journey these characters took is entirely disconnected from where they ended up. 

3. Oof yeah. All of that is a complex af topic that deserves more than my quick response… but suffice to say, anyone who believes that “wasn’t queerbaiting or burying your gays because Clover wasn’t officially canonized as such” fundamentally doesn’t understand what queerbaiting is. The whole point is that it’s NOT canonized. Like Blake/Yang remain. I admit 100% that Clover and Qrow were not teased in the same way that other potential queer couples have been (such as Dean/Cas in Supernatural), but there were a lot of hints and coding that encouraged a queer reading regardless and fans are right to point that out, regardless of what RT’s intentions may have been. Even if you don’t want to go that route, this volume still—quite obviously—encouraged a close friendship, something that in and of itself is chock-full of implications given the history of the buddy duo/opposites attract trope. Whether you read Qrow and Clover as platonic or potentially romantic, the end result is the same: two men embodied an intimate and gentle relationship (something rare for two “straight” guys) and then one was horrifically murdered off in order to “justify” the destruction of the one other friendship Qrow still has going. There’s a lot in there for fans to be upset with, especially when it was all set up so poorly. And frankly, until RT actually canonizes Blake/Yang, I’m not going to make any blanket statements about how they would never queerbait, not matter how lightly. Because you’re right. We don’t know what we’ll get in the future and no matter how seemingly obvious it is that they will enter a relationship at some point…we can’t swear that it will actually make it on screen. In which case everything we’ve seen—romantic hand-holding, intense blushes, going out on presumed dates—would enter the realm of really intense queerbaiting, which in turn would drastically color how viewers read Clover and Qrow. You proved with one couple that you’re willing to string viewers along… so why would we claim you weren’t doing the same here, even though it was a lot more subtle? As an on-going series it’s hard to make any definite statements about RWBY’s representation, but given how long it’s taking for their presumed, primary queer couple to get together (no matter how little time has passed in-world the writers are still making the fanbase wait years) and the history surrounding Clover and Qrow’s character types as well as the ending they got… I’m more than a little uncomfortable. Just like I was uncomfortable with the decision to make the first queer character a villain who blames her crush for those feelings, her abusive relationship, all while trying to murder her parents. That stuff hurts in a world where queer media is still both rare and often badly done. Even if next volume Blake/Yang becomes canon and RT has A+ rep moving forward, we’re still left for the next year with one queer coded character denouncing all his male friendships, one close male friend dead, and two women dancing around each other. Volume 7 has a lot of things that on their own aren’t necessarily that bad, but pull them all together and it paints a far worse picture. 

(Also yeah, another anon mentioned how RWBY is popular because it’s not fanservice and I’m like, “Yes… but also no lol. I have things to say about how ‘We don’t do giant breasts or pantie shots!’ shouldn’t be the only bar we strive to meet.) 

[minsugapie]

Now You See Me: part 22.5 (2249 words) - best thing since sliced bread

• • • • • •

You’re a content creator that is wanting to change up your brand a little bit. 

Yoongi is a faceless musician. Well, he’s two people at once. He’s Agust D online and while performing, but he’s Min Yoongi in real life. 

Who will he be to you?

• • • • • •

PART 22 // PART 22.5 // PART 23

masterlist 

• • • • • •

tags : @dixonsbugaboo @mayumioutloud @minhyukstealer @pocketfullofsuga @pwinny00 @rjsmochii @yoonglemickdoongle @live-2-fangirl @cherryicy123 @vernooope @okaysoplshelpme @thebleuprince

• • • • • •

It was a couple hours into game night with everyone, and it was already wild. Except for Jungkook because he fell asleep under the table while petting Yeontan a while ago. 

For one, Yoongi had just finished up rapping some new song he was working on in front of everyone. He’d just finished a drink and was feeling great when he performed, so it was overall the best thing you’d ever witnessed. In fact, you were sure that if Tae were there, he would have literally thrown himself onto the floor for the man. Really, you were sad that their dinner reservations could not be changed. The two of them would have had so much fun with your group.

The second thing that contributed to the wild night was the fact that Hoseok wouldn’t stop holding your hand, which you didn’t mind, per se. But after what Yoongi had told you, you had a weird feeling. Just as you were about to whisper and ask him exactly why he was holding your hand so firmly and possessively, there was a drunken interruption. 

“Yah! The music video turned out so well!” Jin slurred, not looking at anyone but Namjoon while talking to everyone. It was a well known fact that the two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and alcohol just made it worse. Actually, Namjoon currently had his hands under Jin’s shirt and was resting his lips against Jin’s neck too. Nothing else was happening, but the skinship was real. 

On one side of you was Hoseok, because he was clearly holding your hand, and on the other was Yoongi. Both men froze at Jin’s statement, not sure which person he was complimenting. With Yoongi’s mask securely placed on his face and only a straw coming up from his drink, you weren’t able to even remotely decipher what he was thinking. 

But Jin continued before anything could be said, “The song and editing were good, sure, but Y/N just was WOW. She really made my heart hurt. Like seriously the best thing since sliced bread.”

A smile formed on your lips as you felt Yeontan wiggle in between your feet and settle between your legs. “Awh! Auntie Jin, the praying mantis, you’re the sweetest but it was all Hobi and Agust D…”

You saw Yoongi’s head turn to look at you just as Jimin added, “Don’t be modest! Your beauty is what got the video so many views in 24 hours! Even now, you’re filming all of us, and there is not a person on your subscriber list or that has watched your videos that doesn’t think you’re nice to look at!”

You blushed as Jimin’s comment. Unfortunately, you were still looking at Yoongi, so he got the full view of your blushing cheeks (as if they could even get more flushed after the alcohol flush). Everybody in the room but you could tell that the look Yoongi was giving you matched Jimin’s statement. 

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” Hobi whispered into your ear and squeezed your hand tighter. 

You took this moment to let Hoseok know that you only liked him in one way, even if you weren’t sure what his true feelings were. So you told him, “You’re such a good friend, Hobi. Honestly, I’m so happy that I have you as a brother.”

The smile on his face didn’t reveal his inner pain as he continued clutching your hand like you were together. The mood stayed for a little while longer, Namjin now choosing to lay kisses on each other and play with the other’s hair, Jungkook still passed out, Jimin trying his hardest to make you blush, Hoseok’s hand in yours and Yoongi silently watching your every move. 

Actually the card game had been completely forgotten about, black and white cards strewn across the table that was also littered with alcohol spills and popcorn. This was a night that you’d want to repeat, maybe next time you wouldn’t film it. You could live in the moment as much as the next person. Plus, with everything happening at once, you weren’t even sure that any of the footage you’d gotten was usable. 

• • • • • •

Now, 4 hours since the camera had been turned on, it was off. 

At this time, Namjin had already headed home because they had to babysit tomorrow afternoon, and they needed to get some sleep and nurse the hangovers that they were sure to have. Hoseok had gotten a ride home with Jimin and Jungkook because he lived nearby, but Yoongi decided to stay for a bit longer, wanting to help clean up. He sent his friends on their way because they were big babies and clearly too drunk to function. 

A side note, everyone clearly took a cab because there would be no driving from this shindig. You wanted all your friends alive and well. 

Actually, Yoongi did not drink all that much that night, or ever you assumed. He had nursed a few drinks, so he was feeling good. He didn’t seem like the type to want to get drunk. You were in the same boat. You had a few, but you knew when you had to stop. 

You were seriously amazed that Yoongi had managed to keep his mask (on his chin for the most part) and cap on the whole night because it got hot in there and everyone was goofing around. You’d really have to be careful while editing. If his face was showing, you’d need to blur it out or put a picture of his profile pic on it or something. But you could worry about that tomorrow. 

“I’ll help you put everything away. We made a huge mess,” he said, picking up as many soju bottles as he could in his hands and taking them to the recycling bin. 

“Okay,” you whispered. You didn’t know if it was your tipsy state or fatigue, but you found yourself watching Yoongi carefully. You noticed that now that the camera was off, and it was just the two of you, he took his mask off and pushed his hair back, putting his cap on backwards. 

It was a look that you found you wanted him to wear more often. In the background, faint music could be heard and briefly, there was a siren outside. But none of that noise stopped you from making eye-contact with him for a second. You quickly looked away, long enough for him to hopefully think nothing of it before you continued watching him again. 

Your eyes followed the slight stumble in his step when he tripped over air. It was absolutely the cutest thing that you’d ever seen him do. You looked at his long fingers holding the bottles carefully, cleaning up your apartment, and wondered what you did to deserve being friends with this man. There was something about him that just made you want to get to know everything about him. You knew there was a lot hiding under that mask and cap. 

You were simply standing at the counter, blatantly staring at him instead of helping when he turned around. He caught your eye for real this time, and you looked away, blushing. “Am I cleaning this all by myself or are you going to help out?”

Grateful that he didn’t bring up your staring, you went to the table quickly, clumsily, and grabbed the empty bags of snacks. The cards were still everywhere, so you were set on organizing those as well. 

Your kitchen was becoming cleaner by the second. Yoongi removed his jacket, sporting a black t-shirt underneath. It wasn’t like you planned to notice his arms right away, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d rarely seen him get so comfortable. The only other time was when you’d had that fun night of puzzles and arcade games. 

When he caught you staring at him this time, the third time, the boy blessedly kept quiet and simply let you look at him. In fact, you could feel his eyes, trail down your body as much as yours raked over his. You were standing there, a broom in hand, ready to sweep the floor, but he was still checking you out. 

Walking towards you slowly, he placed his hand over yours that was holding the broom. Leaning to your ear, he whispered, “Here, let me do that.”

His breath on your skin left you with shivers coursing through your body. You couldn’t reply, meekly nodding instead. At this point a low rumble came from his chest, and you were sure that he could tell how flustered he made you. You couldn’t even hide your attraction, and if you were being honest, you didn’t want to. Even his hand over yours holding a broom made your heart do a thing.

The rest of the cleaning was done in a blur, both of you mostly sober now. You needed to get Yoongi out of your house as soon as you could because you couldn’t stop looking at him, thinking about him, wanting him…

Walking beside Yoongi down the hallway with Tannie at your feet when the cleaning finally finishing (it felt like it took a thousand years), you waited as he put on his shoes. He had already put on his jacket again in the kitchen, so at least you weren’t distracted by his arms any longer. Something improved. 

Yoongi slowly stood straight, looking you in the eye with an odd expression. “You’ll be okay on your own?” He asked, low voice seemingly lower than usual. 

“I’ll be fine. Tae should be home soon,” you managed, leaning your back and using the wall for support. How had you not noticed how perfect Yoongi could be until this night? Sure, you knew he was hot and that he checked literally all your boxes, but something in you shifted tonight. He was consuming you. There was absolutely no way that he was leaving your mind when he left tonight. 

Yoongi took a step towards you, and your breath hitched. It was clearly audible, but he didn’t seem to notice. One of his hands moved up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to leave now.” Was it just you or was his body coming closer to yours, head moving toward yours?

“Okay. Text me when you get home, so I know you got there safely…” Your words came out in barely a whisper because you were sure that he was moving closer to you. 

“For sure…yeah…”

Your hands that were previously just hanging by your side went up to his chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Yoongi, what are you doing?” You mentally face-palmed. Why would you ask a question at a time like this. You’d been kissed before. You definitely knew what was going to happen, you stupid girl!

Luckily, he simply ignored your question, choosing to grab the wrist of one of your hands and guide it, so it was around his neck. His eyes, that were staring at your lips, met yours, looking for any sort of hesitation from you. 

“So Hoseok?” He questioned, not moving a muscle away from you. 

“Hoseok who?”

The Yoongi that was consuming your before was coming at you full-speed, and you didn’t want him to stop. His body was warm against your own, even though he was barely touching you. Your breathing became laboured just thinking about kissing him, and it felt like an eternity passed before he connected your lips. 

He was hesitant at first, but you didn’t waste any time in kissing him back. It was clear that you wanted it and him. 

Yoongi’s lips felt right against your own. They were soft, and he tasted of alcohol. You moved your lips with ease, arms both going around his neck and pulling him closer to you. Yoongi took a step closer to you, pushing his torso against yours. When you felt his waist rest against yours, you gladly opened your mouth to him. 

His teeth grazed your bottom lip as he pulled away for a second, looking into your eyes to see your reaction. When you lazily closed your eyes again, you felt his lips come back to yours. His tongue darted inside your mouth, moving adeptly against your own. The hands that were previously clutching at your sides moved into your hair, tugging it to angle your head. 

When this caused the kiss to deepen, you let your hands slide from around his neck to under his jacket and around his back. This kiss was something else. You hadn’t kissed anyone in a long while, and you couldn’t have been more ecstatic that it was Yoongi. It felt as if his touch was setting you in fire, skin blazing with each kiss. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered what this kiss would mean…if it would mean anything to him. But that thought didn’t last long because when neither of you were paying attention, the front door had been unlocked and Taehyung walked through the door. 

“Agust D?” Tae asked, causing you to push Yoongi off of you abruptly. 

“Tae!” You exclaimed, trying to catch your breath and fix yourself. Yoongi looked into your eyes one last time before pushing himself out the door. You were left in front of your brother, who was looking like he wasn’t sure what he saw…or what he thought he saw. 

[readyplayerhobi]

Peppermint | 02

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, light angst

; Word Count: 14.1k

; Synopsis: Achieving your dream job is something that very people manage to do, which is why you’re all the more happier when you land a job on the film team at Poppin’ Culture; the biggest pop culture website, blog and YouTube channel around. What you don’t expect however, is to fall for the exceptionally shy and awkward colleague who is not even remotely your type. Or is he?

; A/N: I hope you enjoy :3 it’s been a joy to write him! Please reblog if you enjoyed to increase visibility and comment/send me asks with what you thought. Peppermint Hobi has been possibly the sweetest character I’ve ever written and I hope you all enjoy him too. Also, the links are still broken so you’ll need to go to my masterlist :)

01 ; 02

-

“Hey, I need you and Hoseok to go over the videos for the next week please? And also review your video so far. Let me know if everything else looks good to go and we’ll get everything scheduled for upload. You good with that?” Seokjin asks as he hands you a file full of the printed scripts and outlines of each video that was planned for this week across all the channels.

You’d question why you were being given it, but he’d begun to lean on you heavily in terms of the video uploading schedule for YouTube recently. Probably because you liked to run the film video ship tightly and whipped Taehyung’s lazy ass into shape more than a few times along with also calling out other departments for running behind schedule.

It had meant that you’d just de facto become the YouTube lead over the last few months. Something you hadn’t expected, but also not something you were going to complain about. It did let you spent more time with Hoseok after all, and you hardly needed an excuse to want that.

You liked to think that he enjoyed the time you spent together too, as he never complained about being pulled into random meetings with you or being given more work to do. Nor did he tell you to get lost when you wheeled your chair around to look at his screen to see what he was doing.

Not that he actually did that to anyone else either, but he seemed to enjoy your company more. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. Maybe you’re projecting, who knows?

Hoseok is currently away from his desk though and so once Seokjin departs, you leave a Post-it note on his computer screen before telling Jimin to let Hoseok know where to come in case he doesn’t see it. He nods slowly with no sarcastic comment for once, letting his glasses slip down his nose before he’s chewing on his lip once more as he focuses back on his own screen.

You take the file into an open meeting room and close the door, sitting down in the silent room and spreading everything out in front of you. A Pusheen notebook sits open on the table as you start to make a couple of quick notes from the information you read in the file. There’s three gaming along with one television themed video to go up this week. And then the film video that you’d filmed the voiceover with Yoongi last week.

The door opening quietly distracts you, causing you turn immediately and smile at the sight of Hoseok. He’s got a Breakfast Club shirt on today and some plain jeans, looking just as casual as he always does. It suits him though, and you eye the MacBook he’s keeping close to his body while holding a cup of peppermint tea in his other hand.

When he sits down, his eyes scan the desk and he frowns before pointing. “D-do you want me to get you a d-drink too?”

You shake your head and tell him it’s okay as he sets everything up, angling the MacBook in between you both so that you can watch the videos he and his team have created over the last week. Hoseok is hands down one of the busiest people in the office, and yet you never see him complain about the workload he’s given.

That’s probably a combination of him not being willing to complain but also the fact that he genuinely enjoys his job. And it shows, with the tender love and care that he puts into every video, no matter how dumb the topic is.

It takes a good hour to run through everything he’s fully completed already until you’re finally happy with all the videos and sign them off. You know that Hoseok will let Seokjin know now, who will in turn upload them all onto YouTube with the relevant tags and whatever else he does with them before they’re released into the wild.

The only thing left to do is look over what he’s done of your own video so far. This isn’t actually supposed to be going out till the very end of the week, so he has a little bit more leeway with it. But you’re surprised with just how much he’s done already, and as per usual it’s top calibre work.

And you’re not just saying that because you have a crush on the man, but because he’s genuinely very good at his job.

Watching him carefully, you take note without even meaning to of the way his delicate fingers glide across the keyboard of his MacBook with ease. The tiniest frown lines mar his smooth forehead and you have the strongest urge to reach over and gently move some of his hair out of eyes.

It’s looking particularly soft today, and your fingers itch to see whether it feels as you think it does. The strands are actually very straight today, with his hair parted almost exactly in the middle and it’s almost fluffy in how much volume it has, causing you to sigh quietly as you let your chin rest in your hand.

The deep brown of his eyes are focused firmly on his laptop, a sheen of light from his screen distorting them slightly behind his lenses and your lips tilt into the smallest smile. You’ve noticed over the last nine months that when he starts to work, he gets lost in it for hours.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even remember to take his lunch and you either have to Skype him to remind him or go get whatever lunch he’s brought in and give it to him. Or you buy him something at the deli nearby when you go when Jimin or Taehyung.

He likes a prosciutto, turkey and salami salad with mayo on wholemeal bread. It had taken a few different sandwiches before you discovered the one that made his cheeks round and his dimples appear while his eyes creased in food related happiness.

“Okay, so...I had to get a bit creative here because I couldn’t find any artwork that wasn’t copyrighted. So, there’s a little bit of the trailer in here along with the small snippets that I could find of actual footage.” Hoseok slides the MacBook towards you and gives you an expectant look as he presses the play button.

You pull your gaze from him to focus back on the screen, on your job, and watch the video as the sound of your voice flows out of the tiny speakers. He’s done a good job with this video, and given it’s only a list video then you’d only needed to record a simple voiceover for it.

There’s no music yet, but you know that Yoongi is working on that currently and there’s a few scenes that are obviously missing graphics that Jungkook’s team hasn’t finished. But it looks pretty good and the editing is slick as usual.

Grinning brightly at him, you smile and push the laptop back to him. “Great as always Hoseok.” You praise him firmly, voice light and high as the apples of his cheeks immediately turn a pretty rose gold. Taking your lower lip between your teeth, you watch as his eyes flick to you repeatedly before looking back at the screen.

He goes to take his laptop back and you suddenly decide to make a move, hoping that you’re doing the right thing. Your own hand lays over the top of his, the pads of your fingertips feeling the smooth, soft skin of his hand. Without even meaning to, you find yourself tracing over a prominent tendon there and Hoseok’s breath hitches immediately.

“You’re really good at this, you know that? I hope Seokjin and Namjoon tell you that, because you really are.” Hoseok doesn’t respond to your words, instead his eyes are focused on your hand behind his lenses. The slightest glimpse of a pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips has you biting your own before he slowly pulls his hand out from under yours and closes the lid of his laptop.

“Thanks. They do, b-b-but I’ll tell them y-y-you said so.” He’s stuttering again suddenly and you practically see the way he’s tensed and is breathing harder already. Frowning deeply, you take your hand back and clench it into a fist on your thigh before clearing your throat.

“I’m sorry, I just...am I reading these signals wrong? Because I think you like me but...I don’t know. I can’t tell.” You blurt out honestly, confusion evident in every tone of each word that falls from your lips and you cringe slightly. Honestly, you feel like a teenager again and it’s not fun.

Hoseok’s head dips even lower until you can barely see his face, though you do see the way his throat works as he swallows thickly. For a moment, there’s nothing but awkward silence between you both and your heart beats rapidly as cold panic begins to move through your veins sluggishly.

You had a really, really bad feeling that you’d completely misread the entire scene.

“S-s-signals? I-I-I didn’t k-know that I was g-giving any. I-I’m sorry if y-you thought that. I just…” He pauses and takes a deep breath, his voice cracking and quivering as he stumbles his way through his words but that’s nothing compared to the mortifying heat you feel running through you. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean...I’m sorry.”

The distress on his face makes your heart clench, despite how tumultuous your emotions are right now and you feel compelled to put him at ease.

Reaching forward, you take his hand and simply encase it in both of your own. Shaking it slightly, you give him a bright smile that completely covers up the hurt and embarrassment you feel and let your fingers stroke over his skin comfortingly.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I obviously got it wrong. It’s fine, honestly. Just...forget I said anything. I’m really sorry. That put you in an uncomfortable position and I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought more and you’re fine to say what you did. I won’t mention it again.” You’re babbling a little at him, probably to try and cover your bruised pride but despite that, you can’t stand to see the discomfort in him.

You should have just let him say something if he felt anything. Instead, you’d tried to hurry the situation along by being bold and while it normally worked, you’d forgotten for a moment that Hoseok was not like the other men you had dated before. Those guys would have loved you being bold like that, but it quite evidently sent Hoseok crawling back into shell.

Sighing heavily, you let your head drop as you pat his hand before lowering it back to the table and gathering your notebook and pen. “I’m sorry, again. Really. I hope you’re okay.”

He says nothing for a moment, staring hard at the closed shell of his MacBook with a clenched jaw and an oddly intense look. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed at you, or maybe annoyed at himself but he suddenly shakes his head in turn and looks at you.

“I’m okay. Honestly. Y-you don’t have to apologise anymore. It’s fine.” Hoseok’s voice sounds stronger as he gives you a tight lipped smile. Watching him carefully, you keep an eye on him as you rise from your seat and head over to the door.

He’s silent as you go, only nodding at you once as you leave with a careful expression. Outside the door, you lean against the wall for a second once out of sight of anyone else and let your head drop back against it, a deep sigh of regret leaving you.

You’d really thought you’d read the signs right and that he liked you in the same way you liked him. But apparently you were wrong, completely wrong. He was very quiet and introverted after all, maybe what you thought were signs of romantic interest were signs of just friendship instead.

It doesn’t stop the squeeze of pain around your heart as you swallow the rejection you’d just received. How humiliating; and with someone you work with too. If you knew Hoseok like you thought you did, then he would likely pretend this never happened. Which meant that you would have to as well.

But your hesitant and exploratory flirtations with him were going to have to end for definite. From now on, your interactions were going to have to be just purely as a friend with Hoseok. As painful and numbing as that is to your heart, it’s what you’ll just have to accept

While you’re coming to your own conclusions outside  about how to interact with Hoseok in the future, Hoseok himself was still sat in the meeting room staring at the wall with a carefully blank face. Until it suddenly falls and he whisper shouts out a curse before clenching his fists in anger at himself, letting his head fall forward in despair.

-

It’s perhaps an understatement to say that the atmosphere between Hoseok and you is tense in the next few weeks. You keep him at arm’s length in the office, including him in conversations like you always had but the little inside jokes between you both had vanished, along with the exchanging of food and drink.

The rest of the office certainly notices the sudden cooling of your budding friendship with Hoseok and reacts in confusion, though silently thankfully. You rebuff Jimin and Taehyung’s questions, and you try to ignore the sad looks Hoseok gives you from time to time.

It was your last intention to make things uncomfortable between you both, but you were being a little selfish and nursing a bruised heart right now. There had already been copious amounts of Cookie Dough ice cream eaten as you’d tried to deny your feelings had been anything more than the flutter of something new to Sunmi.

She would have probably believed you if you weren’t trying to create a whole new salty version of the famous ice cream with your tears. In fact, you were kind of surprised at the depth of how hard you’d fallen for your timid colleague.

Which was why it hurt all the more to have to look him in the eye every day and know damn well that he likely knows you obviously felt something for him. Otherwise, why would you have reacted with such embarrassment and humiliation if you hadn’t?

But above it all, you felt an overriding sense of shame that you were pushing Hoseok away when you’d tried so hard to pull him in. He must be so confused as to why you carefully avoided social situations with him except for when work demanded it.

You just needed a little bit of time. Most people got to recover from a rejection like that in peace and quiet, far away from the object of their desires. But you had to work with him every day, so close that shifting your chair to the side slightly would let you see his beautiful visage that made your chest tighten.

Dammit! Damn everything to hell.

Taehyung must see the way that you clench your fist in frustration at your desk, jaw tightening as you let out a strained breath between gritted teeth. Before you even realise it, he’s rolling over to bump against your desk lightly, causing your monitor to rock as you let out a noise of alarm as you steady it.

Looking over at him, you take in the black colour of his newly dyed hair with vague interest before meeting his mahogany eyes with a raised brow. “Yes?”

He snorts before rolling his eyes and reaching over, lightly pushing at your arm in response to your snide comment. “Calm down Snape. I’m just going to ask what you’re working on right now as it sure doesn’t look like the review you said were going to do.”

Eyes flickering back at your screen, you sigh deeply as you lazily re-read over a few details of the new work you’d started. “I finished that and already submitted it to Seokjin. This is just a video idea I had for the top animated films in recent years.”

Taehyung makes a soft noise of interest before spinning around until he’s shuffling his legs under your desk with yours, eyes scanning the screen as he reads over what you’ve written. His lashes are unfairly long, and you pout as you point it out and cause him to laugh.

“Thanks. I’ll make sure to show them off more to you to get you jealous.” He grins and winks. Jimin on the other side of the room, hair mint green, scowls at you both before pointing his finger at you.

“I’m watching you. I’m already green, don’t make me angry. You won’t like me when I’m angry.” You chuckle and roll your eyes, well aware that he’d made Taehyung have a Marvel marathon at the weekend. Including the terrible Hulk film, which you’d begged them both to ignore.

“Fear not, your man is safe from me. His lashes? Maybe not.” Taehyung flutters them at you with a kissy pout before looking back to read over what you’ve done for the script.

“The LEGO Movie over Coco? A bold move.” He murmurs before scrolling down and continuing to read. Placing your elbow on the edge of your desk, you sigh deeply as you nod your head.

“I know, but I just...I thought Coco was wonderful and beautiful and emotional. But I watched it once and never had an interest to watch it again. Whereas The LEGO Movie made me laugh so hard and I think I’ve seen it 20 times. Moana is higher though, I really love that film.” He laughs and nods, pointing to your little Funko figure of Moana on your desk in acknowledgement.

Finally he finishes and moves back with pursed lips, nodding slowly before running his fingertips along his jaw. “Interesting. But in the interest of fairness, I think you really need to do a poll of the entire office to get a general feel of what Poppin’ Culture’s Top 10 is. I mean, Inside Out was great but I doubt it’s in most people’s top ten of the 2010s.”

Sighing, you nod and begin to write out an email of every animated film of the 2010s, including popular anime films such as Your Name because you just know there’s lots of people here that love those too. It’s a long list, and Taehyung whistles with raised brows as you fill it out. Once it’s done though, you email it out to the office and ask them to only pick ten and rank those ten in order.

“You know, this list could just be ten completely different films and then we have no list at all?” Taehyung chuckles and nods in response to your sarcastic comment, tapping your nose before making a Yoda noise.

“Yeah, but then you just collate what you do get and ask everyone to pick out of those and so forth until you have a top ten. It’s fine, it’s what we do. Good idea though, run it by Hoseok to make sure he’ll have time to film and edit next week as he’s got a two week vacation afterwards so we’ll be running thin on the video department.

He rolls back to his own desk at that and you swallow, sadly reluctant to talk to Hoseok once more. It’s only when you lean back in your seat, crossing your legs while poking your tongue in your cheek when you realise how childish you’re being.

So he turned you down, so what? He’s a grown man, an adult who is more than capable of making his own decisions in regards to what he wants and who he wants. You were just being a baby because it wasn’t the decision you’d wanted, and you needed to understand this and let it go.

It was affecting your work now which is something you definitely didn’t want. But also, it was affecting your relationship with Hoseok. Even if he didn’t want to make things romantic between the two of you, he was evidently opening himself up for a potential friendship between you both.

And you knew damn well that for people like Hoseok, who struggled so hard in social situations, that gesture of friendship like that probably meant a lot to him.

Which probably meant he was hurting more than you right now given how you’d cut him off so coldly and harshly. Licking your lips, you reach forward and slick on some lip balm before opening up your Skype and bringing a new chat with him up.

You hadn’t talked to him via Skype since the incident, and it made your cheeks burn in shame to think how terribly you’d acted. Honestly, he didn’t deserve this and you sure as hell didn’t deserve his friendship.

[10:21] Y/N: Hey Hoseok. I don’t know if you heard but I’ve got an idea for a video, Tae got me to email it out to everyone so you’ve probably seen that. He said that you were going on holiday soon so...if you could let me know if you think it might work next week?

There’s nothing for a moment, and you stare at the screen with narrowed eyes as you take in the conversation box. Then you finally see the ‘Jung Hoseok is typing a message…” along the bottom and your heart jumps into your throat. Which is dumb, because of course he’d respond.

You’d messaged him about work. And unlike you, he’s not an asshole.

[10:22] Jung Hoseok: That’s fine. I’ll respond to your email. Send me the script over whenever you’ve finished it and I’ll look into it. If I can’t do it, Lisa can.

It’s almost painful how polite he is being, and you get the desperate urge to resolve the issue between you both. To smooth over the cracks you’d caused when you’d taken a sledgehammer of hormones to your relationship and caused hurt to you both.

Which is why your fingers are typing already, uncaring that the messages are monitored and could be viewed by Seokjin or Namjoon. Honestly though, the crap you’ve seen Jimin and Taehyung message each other - it’d be a surprise if they ever bothered to read Skype conversations ever again.

[10:23] Y/N: I’m sorry btw.

[10:23] Jung Hoseok: What for?

[10:24] Y/N: The other week. I got the wrong end of the stick and I’ve been a little selfish since then. I’m sorry for pushing you away. Again, I didn’t think about you and I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you or anything.

He doesn’t respond for a few minutes at that, and you wonder if perhaps you’d entirely misread the situation. What if he only wanted to be work colleagues and that was it? Man, you didn’t think that you were that bad at social situations.

[10:30] Jung Hoseok: It’s okay, I understood. I was giving you space too. You looked hurt and I didn’t want to make things worse for you. Thanks for apologising though. And I need to apologise to you. I...was rude that day. I didn’t mean to be.

[10:33] Y/N: You weren’t rude! You had every right. I was too forward and it was awkward and stupid. I think you’re pretty great, and I’d very much like to be your friend if you’d let me? I thought we were doing well before.

[10:33] Jung Hoseok: You weren’t too for

The message ends up abruptly and you frown in confusion before you see him typing again.

[10:34] Jung Hoseok: Friends sounds good. I’d like that.

You have to mash your lips together to stop the smile that so desperately wants to creep out at his kind words and you chastise yourself once again for pushing away this beautiful soul. As you respond to him again, happy that the two of you seem to be slipping back into the comfortable friendship you’d been engineering weeks ago, you can’t help but be thankful that Hoseok is the kind of person who forgives as easily as he does.

And also be thankful that you were willing to swallow that stupid pride and hurt that had been festering in you.

Huh, guess you had finally grown up in some ways.

-

Four months pass by after you finally reached out and sealed up the fractures in your relationship with Hoseok, and you were pretty pleased with the results if you were being honest. If anything, you were wondering if maybe the friction that had been caused had been a good thing bizarrely enough.

Like when you fracture a bone and it heals back stronger than before. That’s what your friendship felt like with Hoseok now, with the two of you becoming the closest friends in the office.

Mainly through text and Skype obviously, but he had whole conversations with you now without a single stutter and you’d been blessed by his blindingly brilliant smile more than once. It made you happy to know that he was content with everything when it came to you, and you’d even begun to take your lunch breaks with each other at the deli or diner down the street.

Just as you’d always thought, Hoseok was funny and sweet and everything you could ever want in a friend. Which was great, as it obviously meant that he made the most wonderful friend for you. But you’d also found that he was everything you could ever want in a man overall and that was where it got awkward.

You’d been so determined to squash your feelings towards him, but all that had happened was that he’d proven himself to be even more perfect for you and you’d fallen even harder. He liked a good portion of the films and music you did, with enough differences to make it interesting between you both.

Hoseok was an avid dancer apparently, which had blown your mind away, but he’d been put into dance when he was younger to try and get him out of his shell. It hadn’t worked in terms of his relationships with people, but he used dance to come to terms with his own emotions and feelings apparently.

The way he’d explained it was that if he felt upset or angry, he’d go rent a studio room for an hour or two and get the feelings out with his body. He’d told you that one lunch time as you’d both sat at a table, the bustle of the shop around you as he’d played a packet of sauce quietly. You’d commented on how tired he looked and he’d admitted to spending a large portion of the night dancing to try and get rid of some frustration.

Though he wouldn’t emphasise what the frustration he’d had was to you, even if you’d been curious as to why his cheeks had tinged that lovely rose they always went when he got embarrassed or shy.

That knowledge of his love of dance was a secret, something that only you knew in the whole office. Even Namjoon and Seokjin didn’t know apparently, the two of them classmates in college and later roommates with Hoseok.

Hoseok had told you that he didn’t like to tell people, as they either laughed at the idea of him dancing or demanded he perform for them like a show dog. You had done neither thankfully, instead just taking his hand in your own and giving him an encouraging smile. It was something deeply personal to him, and you’d just felt pride and happiness that he’d felt comfortable enough to tell you that.

And god, there were times when you thought you hadn’t read the signs wrong at all. Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you with an intense expression, eyes dark behind his glasses. Like all he wanted to do is reach over and grab you or something. You’d seen the same expression on his face when Seokjin had brought in pizza’s one day and none of you had eaten so far.

You were...surprisingly more than okay with the idea of Hoseok being hungry for you.

But you’d tried your hardest to push that thought away, tell yourself that he’d just spaced out for a few moments and you were just the thing he happened to be staring at unfocused. Because you were already struggling with him, with your attraction to him and your need to just be the friend he needs.

You couldn’t project your feelings onto him, not like last time. This friendship was too important to you to ruin like that.

Which was why you had been both happy and surprised when he’d finally agreed to come on the monthly work night out. As usual, it was just for dinner at some restaurant in the city that everyone decided on and then drinks afterwards.

What normally happened was that everyone got food drunk before then getting actual drunk. Blind drunk actually. Jimin, surprisingly, had an exceptionally high tolerance when it came to alcohol and usually drank everyone except Yoongi and Seokjin under the table.

You usually just sipped on a Southern Comfort and lemonade sedately while everyone else got progressively more wasted around you. For you, your days of not remembering the night before had ended in the early years after college. Now you liked to actually wake up and not feel like you looked like the human version of Gollum.

But this time, you’d spent the night with Hoseok sat next to you meekly. Taehyung had asked to go to the new Thai restaurant that had opened up and everyone else had been eager to go. You’d gone along because you always go, but Thai food wasn’t your favourite unfortunately so you’d not eaten too much.

It meant that you’d got to watch everyone else more though, and you’d made sure that Hoseok was comfortable and okay. Turns out he really liked seafood and he’d eaten a prawn green curry eagerly. Perhaps too eagerly, as the noises that had come out of his throat along with the faces he’d pulled had been more delicious than the food you were eating.

He’d even shyly offered you a forkful and you’d eaten it, unwilling to push him away when he being open with you. Plus, he’d had an endearing smile on his face that just lit him up and you couldn’t say no. It’d be rude to make that adorable expression vanish.

That hadn’t stopped him from laughing heartily at the face you pulled at not only the curry but the prawns too. It just wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed unfortunately, and his loud and gleeful laughs had caught the attention of everyone else too.

Jimin and Taehyung had been beyond shocked when you’d told them that Hoseok had agreed to your request to come with this time. Even Seokjin’s eyes had gone a little wide and he’d repeated Hoseok’s name twice, as you’d suddenly got amnesia or something.

Apparently, Hoseok had never attended a night out with everyone else. It was a running joke amongst the office, and you hadn’t realised until he’d agreed just how big of a deal it was. Sure, he’d never come even while you’d been here but you didn’t see the big deal that he didn’t want to spend his free time with the people he had to spend most of his days with to get paid.

The fluttering of butterflies in your stomach at the knowledge you’d finally got Hoseok to agree to come out with everyone had erupted into a hurricane of them when you’d picked him up outside his apartment. For once, there was no nerdy outfit that was ever so slightly ill fitting.

Instead, he had on a white button up shirt that was tucked into a pair of dark, skinny jeans and his hair parted and carefully styled. You hadn’t even known Hoseok knew how to style his hair like that, and the watch on his wrist looked bizarrely expensive for someone who probably wasn’t making a huge amount of money.

His job was good, but it wasn’t the rose gold watch on his wrist good.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he’d flushed at your intense staring of the expensive jewellery before shrugging on his black pea coat and buttoning it up, shuddering in the cold as he’d climbed into your car.

“Graduation present from my parents.” Was all he’d muttered and you’d simply nodded your head in acknowledgement, wondering if maybe they’d be interested in giving you a graduation present too. Even if you had been graduated for years now.

Either way, everyone else had been equally impressed with how smart and handsome he looked with Jimin giving you the sleazy brow wiggle. The man had weedled it out of you a while ago about your unreciprocated feelings for the beautiful guy next to you, and he’d made it like a mission to try and get you both together.

Despite you telling him about the rejection you’d experienced. He was beyond convinced that Hoseok liked you just as much, but was just in denial or something. It had taken the threat of you destroying his treasured iPod Classic, of all things, to get him to agree to not push anything.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make clear insinuations the whole night and subtle gestures to you when Hoseok wasn’t looking. You half felt like choking him, but knowing Jimin he’d probably have a choking kink and just moan at you to go harder.

Instead, he’d opted to plying Hoseok with alcohol once you’d reached the bar.

Which wouldn’t be a big deal, if it wasn’t for the fact that Hoseok was quite clearly a lightweight. Whether he was just genetically a lightweight, or it was just that he didn’t go out drinking very often you didn’t know.

But either way, Hoseok had gone red faced after one beer before he’d started to sweat profusely after two. His third had resulted in a glazed look to his eyes and he’d finally sat quietly for the last hour, staring vacantly across the room as he swayed ever so slightly.

It was simultaneously adorable and worrying, because you wanted to kiss all over his face with how obviously wasted he was yet you also didn’t want him to pass out or something horrific. Because right now, he looked like he could go either way. And despite what you’d told Jimin, you really did like his face far too much to watch him face plant the table.

At this very moment though, Jimin was trying to incite a shots contest with Taehyung and Yugyeom while Jungkook and Lisa are sat with their heads only centimetres apart. You’d think that something was going on there, but you knew full well that neither of them liked each other like that. Must just be a really intense conversation.

Sipping your drink slowly, you place it back down before taking hold of the long neck beer that Hoseok is trying to grab. You’re sure that if he was sober then he would have had a firm grasp within seconds. Unfortunately, he’s spent 30 seconds trying to grab it while muttering to himself under his breath.

Dipping your head to catch his eyes, you look him over while biting your lip slowly. His pupils are a little unfocused and he lifts his head suddenly, losing control immediately and having it roll on his shoulders before he manages to get himself back together.

Chuckling to yourself, you take hold of his hand and direct him to a glass of water. Guiding it back to his mouth, his takes a greedy gulp before grimacing at the liquid.

“S’not good.” It’s perhaps beyond endearing how childish and sweet his voice sounds, but you’re having to battle exasperation as he goes for the beer once more. Placing it on your other side and in front of Yoongi, you turn back to Hoseok and cup his face in your hands.

Peering at him closely, you try to take in the sight and establish whether he should probably go home. Not that you’ve even been here long though.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” You ask sweetly, giving him an encouraging smile as he blinks rapidly in an attempt to focus his eyes. A low hum leaves him, the only way you can tell he’s even done that is from the vibration in his jaw.

His head is heavy now, as he’s leaning into your touch with a dopey looking smile that when combined with his now closing eyelids makes him look beyond drunk. Hoseok has a pretty smile, and you can’t help but be amused that he’s pretty even when inebriated like this. A confounding mix of angles and softness.

“Is he alright?” Taehyung asks from across the table, nodding to Hoseok with a frown of concern on his brow. The others nearby all look over and eye Hoseok closely before looking at you with raised brows, and you feel a little proud that no one was trying to encourage Hoseok to drink even more.

If anything, people had been bemused by his presence tonight before slipping into roles that made him feel comfortable out of his comfort zone. And while it was amusing for everyone to see that their quiet colleague was a complete lightweight, it also inspired the caretaker spirit in practically everyone.

No one wanted Hoseok to get hurt or be sad.

“I think he is. Just...a little bit gone right now. I’ve been trying to ply him with water but...I don’t think drunk Hobi likes the taste.” A bright peal of laughter leaves you as Taehyung snorts in response, and you don’t see the way Hoseok smiles happily and loosely at the sound.

You do however, see the way his eyes go soft and become filled with a strong emotion you don’t quite understand as he looks at you. As you watch him in turn, he pushes his face back into your hands forcefully like a dog that’s been neglected. You can’t help but squeeze his cheeks and laugh as he pouts his lips like a fish for you before making bubble noises through those pursed lips.

“He’s pretty cute drunk.”

“You’re cute.” Hoseok blurts out, a hand coming up to cup your own face. Or at least, he probably intended that but the smarting of your skin tells you that he doesn’t quite realise his strength right now. You can’t find it in you to be mad though when he’s giving you that sweet smile once more. “I like you.”

“He’s more vocal when wasted, that’s for sure.” Taehyung observes, lifting his own bottle to his lips before taking a long swig and averting his eyes back to you. “Maybe he’ll tell us something interesting. Drunken minds speak sober words and all that.”

You roll your eyes in response as you let go of Hoseok’s face, patting his surprisingly firm thigh in consolation. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad that Jimin made him go to an Elton John concert.”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with Elton. Do not insult my man like that!” Jimin is pretty loud when he’s been drinking, though he is normally so his current decibel level is probably approaching airplane level. He’s pointing at you from his position directly opposite you, eyes squinting beneath his blonde fringe and glasses.

“There’s nothing wrong with Elton...but it’s just not Tae’s music at all. And you’ve made him listen to the man all week since the concert. Don’t complain if he goes all red rum on you tonight.” Tae is smirking at that, looking at his partner with a cocky look that has you snorting as you take a drink.

Your decision about whether to take Hoseok home is made though when he suddenly swings an arm over your chest, knocking you back into your seat with a cringing face to avoid being whacked while he points at Jimin. Or rather...he’s pointing past Jimin but you get his point.

“Hey! Lea...Leaff her aloooone. She’s...she’s...perfect.” He’s slurring his words and you can’t help but laugh quietly at the way he ends his sentence abruptly with a satisfied nod and tiny smile. Looking back at Jimin and Taehyung, you watch as they both bite on their lips as they try their hardest to hold in their laughs.

Neither obviously wants to hurts Hoseok’s suddenly bold feelings. Doesn’t mean Jimin isn’t going to tease him a bit.

Grinning at the drunk man, he rests his chin on his hand on the table and wiggles his brows. “She’s perfect huh? Tell us more Hoseok.” His eyes are dark in the crappy lighting of the bar, but you’re scowling at him immediately at the mischievous look on his face.

There’s silence from Hoseok for a few moments; the only sounds the eager buzz of conversations from everyone around you along with the music blasting out of the speakers strategically placed around the room.

But you can see Jimin’s question working its way through his mind slowly and you wonder what he’s going to answer with. After it seems like perhaps he didn’t hear, or maybe he even just forgot the question halfway through thinking of an answer, you lean forward to tell him that he doesn’t need to talk if he doesn’t want to.

Only he practically shouts out his answer. And it makes you recoil in response, not only because he was loud as fuck but also just because of what he said.

“She’s beautiful,” He nods happily, eyes closing while he brilliantly stunning smile of his own spreads over his face until it feels like his entire expression has been lightened with invisible rays of a sun you can’t see. “And pretty and smart and funny. She’s...nice. I like you. A lot.”

It’s like you’re suddenly underwater with how your body feels like it’s been dunked underneath, the bizarre sensation of static rolling through you while your hearing vanishes as you sit there in shock. He can’t mean that, he’s just drunk. That’s all it is. He’ll probably start regaling Jimin with how much he likes him too soon.

Only that doesn’t happen, and before you can say anything further Hoseok grabs your hand clumsily. Giving you the sweetest smile that makes your heart thump and your breath shorten because of how god damn beautiful it makes him look. It’s just not fair that he can make you feel like this.

“I’m a coward. I should’ve...should’ve said yes.” The two look a little confused at Hoseok’s answer, but you know damn well what he means and it makes your breath stutter as you press a hand to your chest. Is he...is he really talking about that day in the office?

“Okay Hoseok, I think we should get you home. Sober you up a bit before you say something you’re going to regret.” You said with a forced smile, looking at the other two with a glare that tells them to shut the fuck up if they want to live. They take your advice by miming zipping their lips.

Lightly pushing at Hoseok’s waist, and boy do you try to ignore the fact his waist is just as firm as his thigh, you slowly manage to get him standing. Well..he’s heavily leaning against you and swaying like he’s on the Titanic while he struggles to keep his head upright. But he’s up at least.

“I’m going to take him home, it’s been nice tonight guys and please don’t re-enact Fight Club again. Jimin...you whined about that black eye for a week and despite your pleadings, it was in fact a pole that you face planted and not Brad Pitt’s fist. Stay safe.” You say to everyone, waving at them while you wrap an arm around Hoseok’s waist and grab his jacket.

He hiccups in your arms before giving a ridiculously bright and happy goodbye to everyone and waving his arms stupidly in the arm. “Bye bye! I love you.”

Almost immediately he has everyone cooing and laughing over him, while Jimin snorts out a laugh and almost chokes on his vodka shot. “Hey Hoseok! Remember to tell her how you feel!”

Glaring at him, you mime your finger cutting over your throat at him as you try to usher Hoseok away while praying that the drunk man in your arms had been too busy trying to catch invisible butterflies to listen to his shit stirring colleague.

It takes you a good few minutes to direct him out of the bar and even longer to get him to your car. You’d pushed away most of the drinks tonight and nursed your one with the knowledge that you’d driven Hoseok here, and so would have to drive home.

Though, if you’d known Hoseok would be this much of a handful then you would have suggested taking a taxi instead. As it is, you’d had to chase after him when he’d gone drunkenly skipping down the road singing loudly to the Catchy Song from LEGO Movie 2 after you’d unlocked and opened the car for him.

And that was nothing compared to actually driving him back, in which he proceeded to sing Bohemian Rhapsody as loud as he possibly could get. All the parts of it as well; both high and low notes along with the guitar solo too.

You’d be more annoyed if it wasn’t for the fact he was simply charming with his eyes closed and face straining even redder than it had been as he put in maximum effort. The good news, thankfully, was that Hoseok had a surprisingly good singing voice; light enough to hit the high notes with ease but with an astounding huskiness when dropping low.

It was kind of captivating, and you half wanted to encourage him to sing more when he was sober. Though you definitely had a feeling that singing was something only drunk Hobi did...or alone at home Hoseok.

He spends the whole trip back trying to get you involved, slurring out your name repeatedly in the most delightful whine while his hands insistently pat at your arm. You finally give in when Bang Bang Bang comes on because that’s your true bop and how on earth are you meant to resist Hoseok bouncing in the car?

Ideally you would, because it’s dangerous, but you discover that singing for him makes him get an absolutely enchanting smile as he just watches you with big, glassy eyes that shine brightly beneath his glasses with every street light that passes by.

He quietens down as you get nearer to his apartment complex, going a little melancholy again and you frown in worry as he plays with a piece of fluff on his jeans. When you park your car in the spot he’d told you was good before leaving, you turn to look at him in the dim light of the nearby lamp post.

Hoseok’s lips do the sweetest thing when he’s pouting, whether it’s because he’s concentrating or upset about something. Every time, he’ll purse them together and they’ll almost meet up in the middle, creating a heart wrenchingly cute triangle of lips that you often get the biggest urge to kiss.

Like right now, when his long eyelashes are creating feathery shadows on his rounded cheeks, still red from his alcohol intake.

Switching the engine off, you pull out your keys and shift to face him. He carefully avoids your gaze and all hints of the extroverted drunk he’d been for the last fifteen minutes has vanished into thin air. What’s left is an even more shy version of his normal self.

Smiling softly, you reach out and take his hand before shaking it a few times playfully. “Come on Hoseok, we’re at your place now. I need to get you to your apartment okay?”

Hoseok watches you for a moment, his eyes scanning you all over before he nods slowly. You can practically see his thoughts running, perhaps not a million miles a minute given his inebriated state but fast enough that they’re running at least.

Finally, he nods in an over exaggerated fashion and you smile at him before getting out. It’s a bit of effort to get him out of the car without smashing the car next to yours, as apparently he’s forgotten how to walk or something and you end up half dragging him along to the door.

There’s a moment of panic when you wonder if you’re going to have to bring him back to your place when he just stares at the keypad for the longest time with narrowed eyes. As if the keypad had done something to personally offend him.

But then he’s practically stabbing the buttons with his finger, inputting his code while his tongue sticks out adorably from the corner of his mouth. Seriously, how on earth is a 30-year-old man this precious and cute?

He finally gets the code right and looks at you with such a bright smile of happiness, giggling to himself as you direct him inside with both hands on his waist as you push him from behind. “I like you.”

“I like you too Hoseok, now come on. We’re almost there.” You knew what apartment number he lived at thankfully, not only because his name was next to the list of occupants just inside the door but also because he’d told you once. And you remembered the little things he told you because you were completely whipped for this teddy bear of a man.

“No. No, I like you.” He over-enunciates too much with his head rolling on his shoulders as he tries to look back at you, causing you to chuckle and direct him finally to his door. It takes a few minutes of semi-quiet arguing over which gummy bear tastes best, why on earth he suddenly got that in his head you don’t know, before he finally inputs his door code.

And then promptly falls flat on his face when he trips over the entrance way while trying to slide off his shoes, causing you to snort attractively as you try to prevent your laughter at him. He lays there for a moment before a quiet whining leaves him, causing you to frown immediately and wonder if he’s hurt himself.

His wooden floor looks hard, and you’ll be damned if you let Hoseok break his pretty nose on your watch.

“Hey, are you okay? Is something hurting? Have you hurt yourself?” Concern laces your words as you toe off your shoes and kneel down next to him, resting a hand on his lower back while your other slowly pushes at his shoulder.

Hoseok groans quietly before bringing his arms up and resting his head on them, blinking up at your blearily before he lets out a deep sigh. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles, lips pursing in a pout once more.

Sighing at his rapidly changing moods, you gently tug on his arm as you finally manage to get him back to his feet. “What are you sorry for exactly? You’ve not done anything wrong.”

Even drunk, he knows the way to his bedroom and you keep him steady until he finally flops back onto his bed. You ponder for a moment if you should try and undress him, get him into the shirt and sweatpants that are folded neatly on the chair nearby but he’s already getting droopy eyes as his body relaxes into his bed.

“Okay, come on. Move over a bit, I need to get the covers over you.” He’ll be uncomfortable in the morning in his jeans but...well you’re definitely not close enough to be taking those off yet. Hoseok huffs and puffs as you maneuver him around the bed until finally he’s snuggled up underneath his covers, the sheets pressed against his chin.

“I’m sorry.” He says once more and you frown, kneeling down at the side of his bed and resting your head on your arms. Up close, you can see the softness to his beautiful mahogany eyes in the light from his lamp, his skin golden and clear.

Lips tugging up into a smile, you observe the way his cheeks are even softer and rounder, his left side squished into the pillow and causing his lip to pucker slightly. You were already head over heels for him, despite your best intentions, and you definitely didn’t need this adorable sight either.

“Why do you keep apologising Hoseok?” A hand reaches up to run through his soft locks without your permission, but your loathe to stop when he lets out a contented hum, eyes falling closed while his lips press together into a tiny smile that causes his dimples to appear.

“Cos I’m a coward.”

“And why are you a coward? You’re shy, yes, but brave when you need to be.” The words of consolation fall from your lips easily, unwilling to hear Hoseok put himself down like this. He shakes his head beneath your hand almost petulantly.

Yes, you quite like drunk Hoseok.

“I wasn’t brave that...that day. S’was a coward.” You freeze subtly at his words, a tiny crease in your brow if you wonder if he really is talking about the day you’d made a fool of yourself. Or had you? Was he saying that you hadn’t taken everything the wrong way? That you were right and he’d just chickened out?

“I love you,” The words are slow and filled with sleep, his eyes blinking tiredly at you as he curls into a tighter ball under the covers. Your own eyes must be as wide as dinner plates right now, with your mouth doing a grand impression of the opera singer in The Fifth Element as your brain struggles to process what he just said. “But you’re too good.”

Part of you wants to shake him back into alertness and pour a litre of water down his neck to sober him up, but the other part of you is just in shock. Are these drunken ramblings, or are they nuggets of truth that he’s blurting out now he has no filter attached?

“Okay Hoseok, I think you need to go to sleep sweetheart. We can talk about this when you’re sober if you want, this is a serious topic.” He frowns immediately as you move to get up, hand moving surprisingly fast to grip your wrist with a light touch.

You feel warm where his hand touches, obscenely warm and you’re sure that your cheeks are just as warm too.

“Don’t go. Stay. Please.” His voice is slightly whining, strangely high pitched yet hoarse and deep at the same time. It makes your heart clench and your stomach flip as your breath stutters with the way he looks at you intensely, strong brows coming together.

“Hoseok...I can’t-” You go to deny him only to sigh at the puppy dog eyes he starts to give you, squinting slightly as he probably can’t see you properly without his glasses on. “Okay. I’ll stay on the couch. Just because I don’t want you to like...vomit and choke in your sleep or something, yeah?”

He doesn’t respond verbally, just nodding slowly and watching as you stand up and look down at him. Hoseok is taller than you, something that always makes you feel small yet his calming and pleasing presence always makes that height feel safe.

But now...now he looks vulnerable and tiny in front of you and your heart swells three sizes in only a second. Sunmi was right dammit, you really were Marvel Cinematic Universe level of fucked when it came to him.

Your heart being the MCU and Hoseok being Thanos with a 50/50 chance of causing your metaphorical death.

Because, as you leave him to doze off and root around his cupboards to find spare blankets and a pillow, you realise that Jung Hoseok can either make your heart soar and bring excitement and joy into your life. Or he can crush you like an ant under his shoe.

But, as you begin to drift off yourself on his surprisingly comfortable couch, a strange thought runs through your head that causes you to feel a little bit of hope. He might be drunk, but maybe his comments mean that you hold the same power over him.

You just hope that sober Hoseok can find some of drunk Hoseok’s bravery to broach the topic again, because you don’t want to push him when he’s not ready. That had happened before, and it hadn’t worked. He had to come to you, on his own terms. Even if you were about ready to get on your knees and beg him.

-

Anyone else who had got as drunk as Hoseok would probably have spent the entire morning passed out in bed; mouth open, drool everywhere and unattractive snores leaving them. But Jung Hoseok was one of the most unique people you’d ever met, and that apparently applied to his morning after the night before habits.

Which was why you were woken up at 9am by the smell of crisp bacon and rich coffee along with the generic sounds of someone in the kitchen. Something you haven’t woken up to in a long time if you were being honest, and it made your stomach feel funny.

Particularly when you blink blearily, groaning softly through the pain of yesterday’s mascara clumping your lashes together. You’d have remembered to take your make off...if you’d actually remembered. Or if Hoseok had make up remover, and you were pretty positive he didn’t.

But what really makes it feel like Ant-Man himself is running around your insides is the cup of coffee steaming on the table in front of you. It’s in a Shaun of the Dead mug, his favourite movie, and you can’t help but smile as you rub at your face before taking it and sipping.

Whatever brand of coffee he uses tastes amazing, which is surprising given he prefers to drink tea in the office. In fact, you’re perhaps more than surprised as he’s managed to make it perfectly frothy and you swear you can taste vanilla and caramel in it.

You must have been deep in your coffee feels because you don’t notice when Hoseok quietly creeps into the living room until he’s handing you a plate filled with bacon and eggs. Eggs done exactly the way you like them, just as you always ask when you go to the crappy diner near work for a grease filled lunch.

“Oh...thank you.” You manage to get out, taking another swallow of coffee before putting the mug down on his Yoshi placemat and placing the plate on your lap. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and just nods before spearing a piece of bacon with his own fork.

Yet again, another hum of satisfaction leaves you as you chew the bacon before taking a scooping of eggs. “Did you add something to this?” You gestured with the tines of your fork before taking another mouthful and watching him.

His cheeks are stuffed full of food, causing him to give you wide eyes from beneath his glasses as he gives you the perfect impression of a hamster. Another forkful of bacon helps you to keep control of your face to prevent yourself from grinning at him.

He’d obviously taken a shower before cooking as his hair is inky black with the strands wet and sleek while his face has the fresh glow of someone who’s scrubbed hard. A faded Queen shirt adorns his torso and you snort lightly at the memory of him singing last night. His casual look is completed with the pair of grey sweatpants.

“Err...I cooked the bacon with maple syrup...and added pepper to the eggs. I know you like that.” Hoseok’s words are soft and light, like he’s not sure he wants to raise his voice higher and you nod happily.

“It’s delicious. You’ve never told me you can cook.”

“You never asked.” Snorting, you nod your head slowly and point your utensil at him in acknowledgement. He was right there, you hadn’t. Because you’d never had a reason to ask before.

There’s a silence that should be awkward between you both after that, and yet you feel at complete ease with him. It’s during this that you take the time to look around his apartment to get a feel for who Jung Hoseok is as a person. Homes are where people feel safe and comfortable and they often end up being reflections of their inner selves.

It’s perhaps unsurprising then that Hoseok’s apartment is small, yet unbelievably cosy and just...Hoseok.

There’s a huge, top-of-the-range television screen that takes up the wall in front of you with a Playstation 4, Xbox One and Nintendo Switch set-up underneath it. The wall to your right is taken up with big glass doors that lead out to a small balcony, a few potted plants dotted around with cute video game characters sitting in amongst the flowers such as Link and Mario.

The wall to the left is just three bookshelves in a row that fill the whole space with plenty of storage. The top two rows of each are filled to the brim with books of various authors, from classics such as Homer’s Odyssey to Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. The shelf below that on all three shelving units contains a range of games for his consoles while the remaining three shelves are dedicated to Blu-Ray’s and DVDs.

It’s the collection of an introverted geek, and it tells you so much.

Placing your now empty plate down on his coffee table, carefully avoiding the small stack of books he’s obviously in the process of reading, you stand and move over to his shelves. His artwork around the room is minimal, with two matching framed retro style Star Wars posters adorning either side of his television.

On the one wall behind his sofa there’s a cool looking wood print that’s split into three blocks, depicting the futuristic world of Blade Runner. Combined with the fascinating array of toys that are dotted around the room, from the Funko collection of Game of Thrones characters to his Marvel Hot Toys, it’s like getting to see the Hoseok he keeps hidden from the world.

And it’s wonderful.

“I love your decorating, and all your nerd memorabilia. It’s so cool.” You say quietly, moving over to the bookshelves to run your fingers along the spines of his books and taking in the toys. He’s got so many, yet they’re artfully displayed in the exact right ways so that it doesn’t feel that there are too many.

Interspersed are a few pictures of Hoseok and what you presume to be his family; an older man with Hoseok’s smile, a beautiful older woman with Hoseok’s eyes and an astonishingly pretty girl that you presume to be his sister that he’s mentioned before. There’s a few others from what you guess is college, with his face looking more youthful than it does now and you smile at seeing Namjoon and Seokjin in some of them.

“You don’t think it’s too dumb?”

Frowning at him, you shake your head and crouch down to inspect his film collection. “Hell no. You’re talking to the person who nerds out over films all the time. This is totally awesome and I wish that I’d made mine more like this. Instead, I thought I’d try and be all ‘Instagram’ cool and now it looks like the inside of an IKEA catalogue.”

“I like your Instagram.” He mutters and you laugh softly.

“Yeah? It’s the fairy lights right? They sure do give a good aesthetic to stuff. You should try putting some in here, I bet you could get some beautiful shots with those as well.” Hoseok lets out a chuff of laughter as he stands and takes your plate before heading into the kitchen.

When he comes out, you’re sat cross legged on the floor and admiring his collection of steelbook Steven Spielberg films, each one portraying a beautiful work of art. He sits next to you and smiles before handing you a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, causing you to flush as you suddenly remember your appearance.

“Is this your subtle hint to tell me that I need to clean up?” His lips part in a beautiful smile as he ducks his head, cheeks reddening.

“Well...as charming as I find the Quiet look, I think you probably want to feel a little fresher. It’s a new toothbrush, don’t worry. I wouldn’t make you use mine, that’s...so gross.” He looks disturbed at the thought and you smile, leaning forward to peck his cheek without even thinking.

“Was that a Metal Gear Solid 5 reference?” You tease before you’re up and bounding to where you’d seen his bathroom was last night.

Partly because you really need to pee, but also to get away from the mortification of the fact that you just kissed him and he’d looked like Hercules the first time he sees Megara. You’re sure that one day you’ll stop dropping yourself into it like this, but you’re not sure when that day will be because it’s certainly not now.

It’s only as you’re frantically scrubbing at your face with his peach facial scrub, which was surprising that he owned that but it is the 21st century and men like nice skin too, that you wonder what the hell you’re doing. You would have left last night if you hadn’t been worried he might vomit and die...or that he’d asked you so cutely to stay.

Scowling into the mirror as you brush your teeth, you wonder if Hoseok knows just how jumbled up he’s got you feeling. Sometimes it’s like you can tell he likes you as far more than a friend but then other times he recoils into himself and you’re left wondering if maybe you’d just imagined it all. If he wasn’t so sweet then you’d be even more frustrated with him.

Honestly, if he wasn’t just...himself then you’d have given up on him long ago.

But you’d been loathe to give up on your feelings for someone who was evidently struggling to come to terms with their own.

By the time you feel somewhat human after scrubbing your body with a clean towel you’d grabbed on the way in, you head back out to find him sat quietly on the couch. For a few seconds, you think that he’s just sat doing nothing and waiting for you to finish but you then catch sight of the Nintendo 3DS in his hands and chuckle loudly.

The noise makes him start, jumping with a bewildered expression on his face before he’s blinking up at you owlishly. His hair has dried by now and looks so unbelievably fluffy and soft that you have to physically clench your hands to prevent the urge to run your fingers through it till he’s purring.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no. I-it’s okay. I was just...p-playing Pokémon.” He stutters out and you wonder why he’s doing that all of a sudden. Hoseok has become pretty comfortable with you lately, to the point his nerves triggered stutter has almost vanished so why he’s nervous now you don’t know.

In an effort to calm him, you give him a warm smile and shift until you’re facing him on the couch, foot underneath you while your knee gently presses into his thigh. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t hyper-aware of that contact, and from the way his leg tenses and his eyes keep darting down, you think he is too.

“Oh yeah? Which one? Pokémon Silver is one of my favourite games ever.” His eyes flick back up to you before a hesitant smile winds its way across his face prettily.

“Yellow. I downloaded it a few months ago a-and forgot about it until recently. It’s hard.” You nod understandingly, a hand moving of its own accord to rest on the warm skin of his forearm. Almost immediately, you can both see and feel the muscles of his arm moving underneath your fingertips and your breath hitches.

There’s nothing between you both for a moment before Hoseok suddenly takes a ridiculously deep breath, almost as if he’s getting ready for something and you frown at him both concern and amusement.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Ilikeyou.” The words come out fast and thick, to the point that you can’t even really understand what he’d just said. It was some unintelligible syllables, causing your brows to dip in at him. He’s looking at you so earnestly as well, like a puppy who just wants to be praised and loved. You’d totally do it if you knew what he’d said.

“What? I didn’t understand that.” Hoseok’s face falls and that cute pout appears once more and you finally give in to your instincts. Gently poking at his cheeks, you slowly encourage him to smile and give him a grin in response.

“I...I l-like you.”

Oh boy, you want to start doing Spider-Man flips around the room but you control yourself. Admirably well you think, as you place your hand back in your lap. Taking your own breath, that’s oddly shaking with your nerves, you nod slowly.

“Okay. Yeah, you told me this many times last night while drunk. Is this...I like you as a friend or...I like you as more than a friend? Because I don’t want to get the wrong idea again.” You were beyond proud of yourself for how stable your voice sounded when all you wanted was to scream and then Exorcist-style vomit.

Hoseok looks pained for a moment as he closes his 3DS and places it on the small side table next to his couch. “Y-you didn’t have the w-wrong idea the first t-time. I was just...a coward. Who panicked.”

As much as you’d like to scream in frustration at Hoseok’s miscommunication over the months with you, because honestly you could have been dating for months now then, you take a calming breath and centre yourself. You cannot get mad at Hoseok right now, because you know damn well it’ll just send him scurrying off with his fragile feelings.

Not that you’re trying to baby him, but it’s taken him over a year to get to the point that he can feel comfortable to admit this to you. And dear god, you were not going to wait another year.

“So...I was reading the signs right then? You do like me as more than a friend? Because I like you as more than a friend, even if I’ve tried to stop that after you rejected me,” He cringes at that before nodding. “I have to ask then...why did you tell me no? You could have told me yes but that you weren’t ready and I’d have backed off. Have I given the impression that I’m pushy or something?”

Immediately Hoseok is shaking his head and he shifts slightly until he’s almost facing you as well. His own hands come out to grab yours suddenly and you pause, surprised at how forward he’s being but also at how nice his hands feel in your own.

“No! No, god no. In fact, you’ve been amazing. Too amazing. In fact, you probably encouraged my bad habits and I really regret that. I-I’ve spent months agonising over the fact I turned you down and I didn’t even want to. It was like my mouth was suddenly moving and my brain was screaming no. And then you looked so hurt and I felt like the biggest idiot and the worst villain in the world.” He looks heartbroken at that, and you flip his hands until you can cup them in your own with an encouraging smile.

“And then you apologised to me and I wanted to tell you that it was okay and you weren’t wrong. But I chickened out again because I thought you might have gotten over whatever you felt and I liked you too much to not talk to you anymore. And these last few months have been...amazing. Honestly.” He gives you a sweet smile then and your heart flips a few times in response.

Looking down shyly at the sheer affection in his eyes, you bite your lip as you trace over the veins and tendons in his delicate hands. He always has such pretty hands, it’s not fair really.

“Why did you say no then? Besides you apparently being an idiot.” You’re not sure why you want the pain, but you know that the two of you need to get everything out in the open and clear before anything further can happen. Miscommunication detonated your chances months ago, you would be damned if you let it happen again.

Hoseok pauses though, eyes flickering around the room as he obviously carefully chooses his words. Though maybe he should’ve chosen more carefully when you hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“You're intimidating-”

“I'm intimidating?!” You can't help but cut him off, eyes wide while a hint of incredulity threads through your voice. A hand to your chest tried to check whether you feel bizarrely flattered, offended or hurt at his adjective.

Immediately his own eyes widen in horror behind his circular lenses, hair going wild as he shakes his head viciously with his hands out.

“N-no. That's not what I meant! Well I mean, it kind of is. But you're not intimidating like Cara Delevigne's Enchantress where she was just creepy but more like Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman. You're intimidating but b-beautiful and c-competent and you make me feel safe.”

While your mind tries to compute that, it snags on one unimportant thing. “Really? Suicide Squad? What is with you and the love for shit DC film's?”

Hoseok scowl immediately. “Wonder Woman is great, don't insult that. You're just a Marvel fangirl.”

“Maybe so. But that's because Marvel doesn't feel the need to make every film's colour palette look like it was filmed in the dark under the sea, or insist that every character has the personality of a walking cardboard box with money and a voice modulator. And I do like DC! I like Wonder Woman and I maintain that The Dark Knight is a cinematic masterpiece.”

The purse to Hoseok's lips tells you he wants to argue but he decides against it, getting the conversation back onto topic. It was his fault for his bizarre DC metaphor though.

“Intimidating to me, because as cliché as it sounds...girls like you don’t fall for guys like me. And I don’t fall for women like you either. I-I...my normal type is like...well...me. I usually date online, where it’s safe. My last girlfriend I actually met was three years ago, and it took four months before I met her. You...you are bold and loud and funny and kind and everyone loves you. You’re everything I’m not.”

Almost immediately you’re shaking your head while rubbing at his hands reassuringly. “Nope, nope. We’re not doing that Hoseok, we’re not putting ourselves down like that. That’s not happening. You’re not bold or loud but you’re sweet and quiet, a reassuring presence to have. You are just as funny as everyone else, it’s just your jokes aren’t as crass as others. You are so unbelievably kind and giving Hoseok. Everyone loves to be near you because you give off an aura of competence and calm. People love you, you just don’t see it.”

It’s possible you could fry an egg on Hoseok’s cheeks now, but you don’t care. You’ll compliment the man till the day you die if it means he’ll look at himself better.

Letting go of his hands, you cup his face sweetly and let your thumbs stroke the soft roundness of his cheeks. “We’re nothing alike and yet we’re so similar. And that’s what I like about you. You bring me peace when I’m nervous and anxious. You make me smile when I’m sad. You give me encouragement when I think I can’t do something. You are honestly, the best part of work because I know every morning that I get to wake up and see your sweet smile. I know you won’t judge me, and you even defend me on occasion with my crappy tastes-”

“They’re not crappy...just...unique.”

“And you’re diplomatic,” You chuckle at him, patting his cheeks happily. “You are so much more than you think you are, and I’m so happy that sober Hoseok has taken some of drunk Hoseok’s bravery for you to finally tell me this. Because I think...I think we could be pretty great together. I mean...if you wanted that.”

There’s an internal war going on in Hoseok right now. You can see the hundreds of micro-emotions flitting across his face as his mind tries to compute what’s going on. That he’s getting what he wanted this whole time.

“Are you sure? I mean...people might laugh at you in the office.”

That gets a deep sigh and an eye roll from you. “Hoseok, if anyone in the office has anything negative to say then I will tell them where to stick it. And I’m pretty sure most of the people in the office ship us together. There’s no way that Jimin hasn’t made a dumb ship name for us yet.”

He lets out a tiny puff of laughter at that and you just know, some part of you just knows that this is going well. It makes you want to be sick with the bees of excitement that buzz in your stomach.

“Please don’t think of yourself like that. You’re not something to be laughed at. Even in your own head. I would be honoured to date you, seriously.”

There’s nothing for a moment and it almost feels like the universe itself is waiting with bated breath for his response. And when it comes, you can’t stop the grin that spreads on your face.

“Okay. Okay...yeah. I..err...will you be my g-girlfriend?” He sounds so shy and yet you can practically feel the hope he’s radiating when he finally gets it out.

“I would love to.” You manage to get out, throat closing in on itself in the effort you give to not shriek out loud in joy and happiness. Instead, you settle for throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug that has him laughing sweetly.

“I feel like a fourteen-year-old.” He mutters into your ear and you snort, shifting yourself closer until you can rest your face in the crook of his neck. He’s warm, and he smells so nice that your stomach squeezes on itself in happiness as it feels like your veins are literally sparkling.

“Me too.” You whisper, almost as if you’re telling him a secret. It must make him happy because his arms tighten around you. It’s amazing sometimes how the right person can make you feel youthful again. Neither of you say anything for a minute or so after that, just enjoying the strange new reality that you’ve both apparently wanted for months, and now suddenly have.

When you pull away, Hoseok’s gaze keeps darting around the room before flicking back to you bashfully. Taking his hand in your own, you carefully twine your fingers together and give his hand a squeeze that has his lips kicking up again. God, you never want to stop seeing those dimples.

“Hey...don’t worry if this feels weird. All new relationships feel weird and we’ll get used to it. Just...you can ask me or tell me anything okay? I’m your friend first.” He nods slowly, letting his other hand trace unseen patterns into the back of your hand before he gives you another smile.

“Can I...I mean...I’d like to…” You wait to see if he can get the words out but he loses his neve halfway through, going quiet while his cheeks turn apple red once more. But you’d seen the way his gaze dropped to your lips beneath the lenses of his glasses and you know what he was asking.

And you were glad he did, because you’ve wanted to do this to him for such a long time. It would have been painful to wait even longer.

Without saying a word, you keep eye contact with him and are beyond surprised when he maintains it firmly. Even when you get closer and closer to him,until finally your lips meet his in a brief and chaste kiss.

It’s over in a second, something that couples give to each other all the time without a second thought. And yet it felt far more intimate than you expected because of the sustained eye contact. Something that made it feel far more personal, and that’s to say nothing of the sensation of his petal soft lips against your own.

Neither of you move, until Hoseok’s hands disengage from yours to cup your face gently. They’re a tiny bit sweaty, yet you can’t find it in yourself to care when he leans forward again and kisses you once more. Only now it’s deeper, the pressure stronger and filled with far more emotion.

His head tilts to the side slightly and you feel the tip of elegant nose bump against your own cheek while his velvet soft lips move against your own. For once, you feel no shyness from Hoseok while he kisses you with far more passion and experience than you’d expected. Which is silly, as you know he’s had girlfriends.

And yet, you don’t care a single bit as he kisses with a year’s worth of pent up emotions that he’d kept hidden. All the frustrations of your miscommunications and his inability to be bold seep through and you soothe them with each movement, each touch of your hands on his waist that tell him silently that it’s okay.

By the time he pulls away, the kiss never deepening further than that, you can already tell that this was going to be one of the best decisions you’d ever made. Hoseok is smiling happily, pressing tiny pecks to your lips as if he can’t stop now that he’s begun. And you’re more than content to let him, wanting perhaps more of him than he’s willing to give right now.

But that’s fine; you’ll wait forever for this man if you have to. Because as you just discovered...he may take a while but when he commits, he commits with so much passion that you can’t even breathe properly.

“Let’s play Mario Kart.” You blurt out, perhaps ruining the intense moment but you had to do it someway. There’s no way that you can cope with the feelings you have for him right now, feelings that are far too strong and intense for a relationship that’s barely five minutes old with someone who’s taken a year to come to terms with himself and his feelings.

And maybe...maybe you’re not ready for that yet either. This thing, this bond you have with Hoseok is special and precious, and you don’t want to rush it.

Your comment throws him for a loop though. The way his brows crease together in confusion before he’s letting out a deep breath slowly, nodding as he lets go of your face. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to just how stunning he is.

“Yeah...okay. If you want. I’m playing Peach though.” Letting go of his waist, you watch as he shuffles to the end of the couch before stopping suddenly and looking back at you with a look of complete awe that morphs into a shy smile. It’s like he wants to say something, but he shakes his head and instead just leans back to kiss your nose endearingly.

He gets up then and begins to sort out the Switch, leaving you to watch him with what is possibly the sappiest expression you’ve ever had.

Yeah, you think you could get used to this. Easily. Because if there’s something you’ve discovered over your time knowing him, it was that Jung Hoseok was hard to understand at first, but so unbelievably easy to love.

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal - Superhero Survey

Ao3 FF.net

Marinette was not only on time for once, but actually early. She allowed herself the luxury of a slow pace as she nibbled at a buttery croissant, still warm from the oven, savoring each flakey bite. Croissants never got old – even when you lived in a bakery. Despite arriving on time, she was still one of the last ones to make it to the classroom. Only Adrien and Ivan had yet to show up.

“Hey Marinette!” Nino greeted from his normal seat.

“Morning Nino! What is Alya doing?” she asked, eyeing her best friend who was on the other side of the room talking to Max and Kim with her nose buried in her notebook as she took notes of whatever they were saying.

“A superhero survey,” Nino explained.  

“A what now?” She asked, taking her usual seat.

“She’s asking everyone who their favorite hero is for the Ladybug.”

Marinette pushed the last piece of pastry into her mouth, wishing she had thought to grab another one. Two had seemed like plenty at the time, but the truth was however many she had, she always wanted just one more.

Alya came down from the back of the room and slid into her seat beside Marinette.

“What’s the verdict of the class, babe?” Nino asked, leaning forward to glance at her tally.

“Five for Ladybug, three for Chat Noir, two votes for Queen Bee and one for Rena Rouge!”

“Let me guess. Chloe and Sabrina for Queen Bee?” Marinette interjected dryly.

“I keep survey responses confidential,” Alya quipped, as she scribbled out her totals in the margin.

“Actually, Chloe voted for Ladybug,” Nino shared.

“Nino!” Alya objected. “I keep survey responses confidential!” Nino and Marinette both ignored her.

“Huh. I guess that makes sense,” Marinette agreed. She really wondered if Chloe would feel the same way if she knew who her heroine was under the mask. “Who’d you vote for, Nino?”

“Rena Rouge,” his eyes darted towards his girlfriend for just a second. He was not subtle.

Marinette’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “I’m sensing a celebrity crush!” she teased.

“Yeah. So what?” he shrugged, but the red in his ears gave him away.

“Careful! Your actual girlfriend might get jealous.” Alya teased, her eyes dancing in merriment. over a smug smirk.

If anything, Nino’s blush deepened.

Alya spared him, and turned her attention to Marinette. “So… Marinette, who do you think is Paris’s best superhero and why?”

Marinette stared up at the ceiling. “I…”

Adrien’s bag thumped onto the table and both girls’ gaze snapped upwards at the sudden noise.

“Adrien! Who’s the best superhero?” Alya asked without greeting.

“Ladybug,” the blond responded immediately, like he didn’t have to think about it at all.

Marinette rolled her eyes, even as she blushed. “So cliché,” she mumbled.

“You have a different opinion, Marinette?” Alya’s hazel eyes swiveled towards her, wide with expectation.

“Yeah, Ladybug would be nothing without Chat Noir,” she asserted.  

Adrien snorted. “Oh please! Half the time he gets turned against her!”

His dismissal of her partner in crime irritated her more than she expected.

“Because she’s clumsy!” she countered. “And he has to take hits for her.”

“Ladybug is not clumsy!” 

“She most certainly is!” Marinette snapped back, not remotely intimidated by his heated glare.

“You guys need to chill!” Alya interjected, eyeing them both in surprise. Her lips turned down in a slight disapproving frown.

That was objectively good advice. Marinette knew it. She could even picture Tikki, eyes wide from the bottom of her purse, her lower lip trembling, begging her to listen. She should stop now while she was ahead. Her teeth clamped down on her fingernails. She shouldn’t say anything.

But her kitty’s honor was as stake.

She whipped out her phone and immediately pulled up the Ladyblog. From the archive, she loaded a video and shoved it in Adrien’s face. 

“Watch! See here! Ladybug is going to trip over air, and when she stumbles, Chat’s right there preventing disaster!”

“This doesn’t count!” Adrien shoved the phone back to her before the video had even gotten to the relevant point. “This was so long ago. She’s improved a lot since then.”

“But so have the villains! I’m telling you, without Chat Noir, Hawkmoth would have won ages ago!”

“Absolutely no way!” the normally polite blond shouted. “Ladybug always finds a way to succeed even when backed into a corner.”

The debate became less calm and civil with every word exchanged. She didn’t consciously remember jumping out of her seat. But now she and Adrien were both standing close enough to share spit droplets that impassioned arguments sent flying. Her body was shaking in agitation as she stared down her opponent.

“It’s Ladybug that does all the saving! She’s the one that finds creative solutions, that cleanses the akuma, that repairs the damage! Chat Noir is a sidekick at best!” Adrien shouted.

“Sidekick?!” she repeated in rage. Marinette clenched her fists to prevent herself from attacking him. She wanted to strangle him in that moment, crush or no crush! Sidekick?! He didn’t understand anything! “Chat Noir protects Ladybug so that she can do those things, he figures out her plans with only two words of explanation. Hell, he’s died to make sure Paris is healed!” Marinette countered hotly.

A bomb of silence exploded across the classroom with that pronouncement. A moment before she had been too absorbed in the fight to notice anyone other than Adrien, but now she could feel all the eyes on her. Her skin was crawling, but she jutted her chin out stubbornly, refusing to give any ground.

“What are you talking about, dude?” Nino broke the silence. “Chat Noir is fine. Someone saw him on Patrol last night. It was on the Ladyblog.”

Horror bubbled from the pit of her stomach as she realized her mistake. She wanted to throw up.

“Y-Yeah! Chat Noir is totally fine! Always has been!” she broke off into nervous laughter. “He certainly did not die in Ladybug’s arms during Timebreaker.”

What was she doing?

“He didn’t sacrifice himself to the Gamer or take a fatal wound from Miraculer!”

She needed to stop talking. Right now.

“Yup!” she finished, popping the p. “Chat Noir’s definitely totally and completely fine! Fine as in healthy. Mentally and physically! Not fine as in handsome. Though he definitely is that too! Objectively attractive, that is.”

She dropped her face into her hands in hopes that no one could see her flaming face.

Alya was already patting her back. “It’s okay girl. We get it. Why don’t you come back to your seat and just calm down?”

Marinette peeked through her fingers and glanced across the classroom. Alya looked patiently amused. Chloe wasn’t looking at her at all – her attention on her nails. Nino, Alix, and Mylene all gave her sweet affectionate and reassuring smiles.

She let her hands fall to her sides. It was okay. It was fine. Alya, Nino, nor Chloe seemed to react to the comment on Miraculer even though they had all been there! She tried not to be irritated. This was good! Her rambling comments were just dismissed. This was just Marinette being… well, Marinette!

Her eyes landed on Adrien who stood before her as still as his wax model – his emerald-green eyes were overblown and his mouth hung wide open.

“Are you okay, Adrien?” she asked him.

His jaw snapped shut and he managed to nod dumbly, before Madam Bustier entered and they all scrambled to their seats. Class progressed as normal. Well, almost normal. Adrien kept twisting around in his seat to look at her. Heat pooled in her cheeks at the unexpected attention. She tried to hide behind her notebook, but each time she risked pulling her cover down, swirling green eyes over puzzled eyebrows froze her in place all over again.

“Adrien, the lesson is up here,” Ms. Bustier gently reminded him.

“Uh… Yes, Ms. Bustier. Sorry, for getting distracted.” His hand rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.

He didn’t turn around again and Marinette rediscovered what it felt like to be able to breathe easily. Her relief was short-lived. At the end of class, Adrien whirled around to face her almost the instant before the bell rang.

“Uh… Marinette?”

She attempted to make eye contact, but she couldn’t hold it. Not the way he was looking at her just now. She didn’t know what it meant or what he was feeling, but it was too much. “Y-Yeah?” She cursed the return of her stammer.

He glanced around the room as if to see if anyone was paying attention. But everyone was focused on stowing away their belongings and leaving for their next class.. He leaned in really close – their noses were only centimeters apart.

She forgot how to breathe again.

“Chat Noir didn’t die for Paris,” he whispered.

Marinette pulled away with gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists once again. She couldn’t let herself back into the debate less she slip again. And she really didn’t want to be mad at him. Adrien was allowed to like Ladybug! Hell, she should be flattered that he liked Ladybug, but he was wrong about Chat Noir!

“Chat Noir died for Ladybug,” he added. His words were so calm, so serious.

All the fight within her evaporated, as she stared at him with her eyes blown wide. How would he know that?

Unless… unless…

“Chat Noir would sacrifice anything for Ladybug. She’s the most important person in his life. The moments spent with her are his favorite.”

Now she really couldn’t breathe. Her brain had turned to mush, her thoughts and feelings were total entropy, chaos – spinning too fast to grasp onto anything. But something big had just happened. She had all the pieces. They just needed to…

…Snap together.

No way!

“Just like moments spent with you are some of my favorite,” he finished. Only his voice seemed so far away, and the world was collapsing in on her chest.

Was he smiling? How had he gotten so far away?

“Earth to Marinette!” Alya called from her left. “Why aren’t you packing up your stuff?” 

Marinette couldn’t respond - she couldn’t even turn her head away from the blond boy in front of her.

“Adrien! What did you do to my girl?! I think she’s broken.”

He laughed. Like genuinely laughed. Not the polite sweet laugh she associated with Adrien. It was a full belly roll. It was Chat’s laugh. He looked at her again with a small smile.

She wanted to return the gesture. But her mind was catching up to her and she still couldn’t breathe! She had pushed Adrien off a building. She had refused Adrien’s confessions. She had kissed Adrien!

His smile evaporated, and just like that he was at her side again.

“Are you disappointed?”

She shook her head rapidly.

“Are you panicking?” he guessed.

And then she nodded.

He offered his hand. She clung to it like it was a life line.

“It’s okay my lady,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

She focused on his voice, suddenly more familiar than she had ever realized. Her eyes drank in the curve of his jawline and the upturn of his lips. The feel of his hand in her own – his ungloved bare hand – his smooth flawless model skin against her calluses caused by years of poking herself with needles. This was Chat Noir without his gloves on. His overshirt was white. She giggled hysterically. Chat Noir was wearing white! She pressed her nose to his shirt and breathed in, only to be greeted with the faint scent of camembert. That was for Plagg, she realized. This was her partner. The man she trusted with her life.

She could breathe again. She felt more grounded in that moment than she had in years.

“It’s you,” she whispered.

His smile rivaled the sun in its brightness. “At your service, princess.”

Tears sprang from her eyes like water released from a dam. She launched her arms around him. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed through delighted giggles. “It’s you!”

“You already said that,” he commented softly.

She flicked him at the throat where his bell would have been before seizing him in another hug, delighting in how well his form fit against her own despite their differences in height.  

“So, you understand now?” she finally asked, pulling back so she could better see his face. Their hands remained joined. When had they started holding hands?

“Understand what?” Adrien repeated, his green eyes glowing like star light as he drank in the sight of her.

“That Ladybug is nothing without Chat Noir,” she finished in a whisper.

“Not a chance!” Adrien exclaimed, barking out another genuine laugh - a Chat Noir laugh. That was his true laugh.

“I stand by everything that I said more than ever, Nette!” he said, his thumb caressed the back of hers.

She blushed at the new nickname, recognizing it as an abbreviation of Buginette and Marinette both.

“But!” she tried to interject.

He pulled her into another hug. “But I’m sure Chat Noir appreciates that he is needed.”

“He had better!” Marinette growled, even as she let herself melt into his arms.

“What is happening right now?” Alya interjected from behind her phone. She was clearly taking pictures, or maybe, recording a video. “Explain. Now.”

Adrien and Marinette both glanced at Alya, then shared a look with each other, before turning back to Alya.

“No,” they both said simultaneously. Marinette let Adrien lead her gently the classroom hand in hand.

“Nino! What just happened?” Alya exclaimed behind them.

“No idea babe, but I think your ship might be sailing?

“Maybe both of them,” Marinette whispered, letting her head fall onto her partner’s arm, no longer feeling remotely nervous around him.

[balancingdiet]

Tabula Rasa

Detective Conan & Magic Kaito Characters: Shinichi/Kaito Words: 2400 ish Chapter: (1) … (20) (END) (Extras)

Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn’t expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid’s costume, too.

Hate seemed like a strong word, but Kaito wasn’t sure what else to term his feelings towards Hakuba when all he wanted to do was to put laxative in his tea every day. 

And amazingly, even when Hakuba was thousand over miles away, Kaito still stayed true to his feelings, and he considered the cost-benefits analysis of flying to London to spike the very tea Hakuba was sipping now. 

Then, on the top of Kaito’s phone screen, Hakuba made a show of placing his porcelain cup on a round and exquisite-looking table before shifting his front camera back to his face. 

“Do you like my coffee table? You can only find this design in Britain,” Hakuba said, flicking his (stupid) fringe aside. ”I can send one over to you as a house-warming gift.”

Kaito gritted his teeth. “No.”

“What about a mirror?” Akako suggested on the bottom of Kaito’s phone screen. “I know places that can do special customization.”

“I don’t need anything from the both of you.”

“Clearly.” Akako scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “Seeing that your birds are taking up most of the spaces in your house.”

Kaito glanced over his shoulder, checking what Akako saw to make the statement. And it was true. His doves were all over the living room, standing on everything that was possible for them to perch on; he should probably only let the few obedient ones out if he didn’t want his neighbours to think he was planning a coup d'état with his doves.

Saying nothing to Akako’s comment, Kaito returned to his front door. He was still in the midst of moving his things inside his house before the three-way video call happened, and the two pesky non-humans (one devil and one witch) called him and demanded a house tour inside. 

“Ok. I’m ending the call—”

“Wait.”

“What now.” Kaito scowled at Hakuba on the screen. 

“So… Are you sure about this?”

Kaito sighed. “For the hundredth time, I’ve already said I will honour the bet—”

“Not that.” Hakuba waved a hand. “I’m asking if you’re sure you don’t want a coffee table—”

Kaito cut the video call and headed out of the house. 

Pushing his phone in his back pocket, he walked to his mailbox, where the delivery guys kindly left his moving boxes. He was about to lift one up when a voice called out from behind.

“Hello.”

Kaito placed the box back on the ground and turned.

When their eyes met, the middle-age woman smiled as she approached to Kaito’s side. “I heard the truck pulled over and figured today’s the day,” the woman said, before handing a pack of cookies to Kaito. “Here’s a little welcome gift for you; I baked them this morning.”

“Oh, wow thanks.” Kaito bowed, accepting the bag. He hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon so this would definitely come in handy... “After I unpack my stuff, I’ll be sure to pop by with a gift,” he said.

“Please don’t worry about it.” The woman laughed. “Anyway, my name is Chiyo, and—”

“Good afternoon, Chiyo-san,” a lady across Kaito’s house called out, one hand holding onto a little girl while the other hand was in the air, ready to give a wave. But she stopped and tilted her head instead when she spotted Kaito.

“Good afternoon,” Chiyo greeted back before gesturing to Kaito. “He’s the new neighbour.”

Realization dawned upon the other lady’s face as she and the little girl crossed over to Kaito’s house. “Hello."

“Hi.” Kaito smiled. And when Chiyo casted him a curious look, he remembered he hadn’t introduced himself, and added, “My name is Kuroba Kaito.”

“I’m Mizuno Kyoko.” Kyoko then gestured to the little girl, who was standing behind her. “This is my daughter, Sakura.”

The girl hid even further behind her mother when Kaito glanced at her.

“Sorry about that, she’s shy around new people,” Kyoko said apologetically. 

“That’s alright.” Kaito slowly bent forward and showed an encouraging smile. “Hello Sakura-chan, nice to meet you.” 

Then, with a flick of a wrist and a snap later, a lollipop appeared in between his fingers.

Sakura gasped in awe and unconsciously stepped towards Kaito’s hand. She glanced hopefully at Kyoko, seemingly to ask for permission, and when Kyoko nodded, Sakura gleefully took the lollipop from Kaito’s hand.

“Thank you,” Sakura said bashfully.

Kaito smiled. And at the exact moment after he straightened up, Kyoko suddenly waved at whatever was over Kaito’s shoulder.

“Oh, Kudo-san.”

Kaito blinked.

Kudo?

Sakura’s face lit up, a complete change from her timid demeanour. “Shinichi nii-san!” she exclaimed.

Kaito blinked again.

Kudo and Shinichi?

KUDO SHINICHI?!

Kaito robotically turned, and he barely managed to stop his eyes from widening too much and rolling out of his sockets. 

There, in the damn flesh, was indeed the Kudo Shinichi he wasn't hoping to be.

Before deciding to purchase his house in this area, Kaito had checked every resident’s information, like knowing Chiyo was now living alone after her second daughter recently married off, and that Kyoko’s ex-husband and Sakura’s father was an alcoholic and serving a long and deserving time in prison. 

And as for the house next to his, Kaito was sure it would be empty, given the fact he knew the family who owned it had migrated to Australia.

Kaito closed his eyes briefly, but when he opened them, Shinichi was still standing there, his hand hovering over his mailbox’s latch.

Great. Another nightmare I can’t wake up from. 

With the lack of news coverage about the detective’s Shinigami ability, Kaito thought Shinichi had gone undercover in Africa or something after he defeated the Black Organization. But who knew he was still in Japan, and living right next to him—

Chiyo waved, bidding Shinichi over. “Shinichi boy, come and introduce yourself to the new neighbour.” 

Shinichi boy? Well, I'll be damned.

Leaving his mailbox, Shinichi trudged over to Kaito and the little crowd. He greeted everyone—while patting Sakura’s head—before acknowledging Kaito with a look.

An observing look, to be exact.

Then, to Kaito’s surprise, Shinichi raised a hand, but rather than pulling Kaito’s cheek or pointing his tranquilliser watch, his hand stopped at their waists' level.

“Hi, I’m Kudo Shinichi,” Shinichi said. 

“Uh, um, hi, my name is Ta—” Kaito pursed his lips, glancing at the witnesses that would definitely expose the fake name he was about to use. Groaning inwardly, he mustered a smile, and tentatively reached out for Shinichi’s hand. “My name is Kuroba Kaito.”

“Well,” Shinichi said, dropping his hand to his side after the handshake (which was the most awkward one Kaito ever had in his life). “Hope you’ll enjoy staying here.”

Barely an hour had passed since he moved in and Kaito was already wondering if it was even remotely possible… But nonetheless, he showed a grin and a thumbs up, hoping it was enough as a facade.

“Thanks, neighbour; I’ll count on you for that.”

Shinichi didn’t return the smile, but he gave a nod back in the end.

“I’ll try to do what I can.”

.

.

.

Kaito groaned and put a hand over his eyes.

When it didn't help to reduce the intensity of the glaring sunlight on his eyelids, he kicked his legs around, trying find his blanket and hide underneath it. But then he remembered it was still hanging outside to dry since yesterday afternoon...

Kaito groaned again, already losing the drowsiness in him to get back the sleep he wanted. He peeled open his eyes and stared at the ceiling in frustration. 

There were two things Kaito could blame for his current predicament: One, the sun’s existence, or two, his laziness for not drawing the curtain close last night—

“Ow.” Kaito sat up, swatting a hand over Yoshi who just pecked his forehead. The three jabs were a lot more painful than the morning greetings it usually gave, until Kaito realized it wasn’t really morning now. The clock on his wall showed half past noon.

Rubbing his forehead, Kaito climbed out of his bed. He figured the aggressiveness might be linked to the, perhaps, empty bird feeder bowl in the backyard, until he saw where Yoshi had flown off after pecking Kaito.

It was standing next to the closed balcony window, and on the other side of the glass was its comrade, Tamago—who didn’t return when Kaito did roll-call last night.

“Wow.” Kaito scoffed before shuffling towards the glass and squatted down. “So you’re finally back. And I thought you’ve eloped or something—"

Then Kaito frowned, eyes squinting at the note he found tied to Tamago’s leg. Sighing, he pushed the balcony door open, and Tamago flew right in, landing on his bed.

Kaito whistled, signalling Tamgo back as it flew to his wrist. He untied the string and unrolled the note.

Come to my house once you see this. - Kudo Shinichi

“Huh. Did you stay over at Shinichi’s house?” Kaito cast Tamago a scandalised look. "So is he your new owner now? Are you his messenger too?”

Tamago cooed.

“First was Aoko, and now—” Kaito sighed. “Why did I waste so much money on sunflower seeds for you...”

Looking at the paper one last time, Kaito rolled it up and kept it pressed under a stationary holder on his desk (it was too cute(?) to be thrown away, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it at the moment either). The meeting didn’t sound urgent, and even if it was, he believed Shinichi wouldn’t send it via a note like this. So he spent some time in the bathroom to freshen himself, top up the bird feeder bowl, and water his rose plantations (including Aoko's blue roses), before heading over to Shinichi’s home. 

While walking the short distance, Kaito wondered what the meeting could be about. He already briefed Shinichi about the things they needed to do for their next volunteering session, and when he checked the Shinichi’s mailbox, it was clear from shit too—

Kaito sucked a breath through his teeth at a new thought. Could it be that Tamago shit inside his house? Damn, he hoped it was anything but the sofa. Knowing the material, it would take ages for him to rub it off.

Reaching outside Shinichi’s door, Kaito raised a hand and prepared to knock, but his arm fell back to his side when he read the note that was pasted on it.

The door isn’t lock.

Kaito raised an eyebrow. Am I in some Alice in Wonderland dream or something... Shrugging to himself, he twisted the door knob and entered.

“Uh, yo?” Kaito said into the seemingly empty house—

“Just in time,” Shinichi called out from where Kaito knew was the direction of the kitchen. “Come here.”

Taking in a breath, Kaito widened his eyes. 

“What on earth...?” he muttered, before mindlessly taking the first step towards the kitchen, and another, and another—

Standing by the dining table in the weirdest-looking apron Kaito ever seen, Shinichi closed the cap of the squeeze bottle. He then turned, smiling expectedly at Kaito before showing the plate of omelette rice with squiggly red lines made out of tomato sauce. 

“Happy Birthday, Kaito,” Shinichi said.

Kaito blinked. Then, stupidly, he fished out the phone in his pocket, which he hadn’t gotten around to checking after waking up. Below the date that stated June 21, there were multiple birthday texts and missed calls from different people: his mother, Jii, Hakuba, Akako, Keiko and even... Aoko’s dad.

He had completely forgotten about his birthday.

“How did you—” Kaito raised his head, but stopped when he realized Shinichi knew it from one of Aoko’s diary entries. 

Shinichi didn’t respond to Kaito's unfinished question, probably knowing Kaito already figured it out himself.

“I don’t know what to do or give you, too, so I figured this,” Shinichi said, awkwardly glancing at the kitchen—where Kaito also spotted a new frying pan—and then at the omelette rice. “You said you craved for omelette rice.”

Kaito frowned. “When did I ever say that?”

“You did,” Shinichi said firmly as he untied the apron’s ribbon around his neck and placed it on the back of a chair. “Remember that volunteer session when Rina’s mom brought omelette rice for lunch and you saw it? You said that back then.”

“Wha— That’s months ago.” 

“You know how to speed read and I have a good memory. Life’s fair and equal.”

“Um, actually I also have a good memory—”

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. “This is not a competition.”

Chortling, Kaito walked towards the edge of the dining table. He stared at the omelette rice, the same scent that hit him when he first stepped into the house was still strong and lingering.

“The rice isn’t any kind of rice,” Shinichi said, as if reading Kaito’s thoughts. “It’s the fried rice that Aoko taught you to cook.”

Kaito slowly nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Though the yearning had toned down comparatively, this was still the greatest gift Kaito ever received; he thought he only missed Aoko’s cooking, who knew he would miss something as silly as the smell too—cooking on his own had deprived him the ability to take in the strong scent of the fried rice at one go...

“Just a disclaimer, though,” Shinichi began as he passed a spoon to Kaito. “I used mostly my gut-feelings and observations—from when you were cooking—to make the rice. As for the omelette, I asked Rina’s mother for advice, and also looked up video tutorials online.”

Kaito mutely nodded.

“It may not taste the best, but it’s the best I can do.” Shinichi nervously scratched the side of his cheek before looking back at Kaito. “So, yeah. Happy Birthday.”

Kaito twiddled with the spoon, feeling the weight of the utensil and the words he hadn’t figured out to say. 

Thanks felt too much of an understatement for all the things Shinichi had done for Kaito—and it wasn't including this or his birthday wish. He got to admit he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings all that outwardly or verbally besides showing grins and smiles, be it fake or real, but this time, Kaito thought Shinichi should know. 

Shinichi should know.

Kaito placed the spoon back on the table, which earned him a questionable look from Shinichi. 

This might not be the best way, but it was the best Kaito could do too.

Walking around the dining table and closing the distance between them, Kaito pulled Shinichi in for a hug.

[lets-talk-appella]

i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 22/25 - Beca

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott’s “If Our Love Is Wrong.”

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters)

TW: Homophobic slurs, hate language, homophobic behavior, internalized homophobia.

AO3, FFN, and below.

Beca groans in loudly in frustration, earning a dirty look from the store manager, which she returns with interest. Seeing this, Chloe waves at the manager in apology and steers Beca away, leaving the fifth shop they’ve entered since arriving at the mall.

“Be nice…” Chloe warns under her breath.

“Ugh, sorry,” Beca mutters, “but they had literally nothing there.”

She’s tired of navigating the mall’s endless stores, none of which have proven even remotely helpful. Though, Beca realizes, it’s not like she’s been overly helpful, either, not having any concrete idea formed for what would make good parting gifts for the Bellas.

What do you give to people who have been your family for years when you’re all about to go separate ways?

Still, she’s determined to find something. The Bellas are too important for her to give out meaningless trinkets or nothing at all.

“They didn’t have nothing,” Chloe says, “but they didn’t have anything that screamed ‘Bellas’ either, yeah.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, there’s nothing that seems right.”

“Well, what’re you thinking?” Chloe asks patiently, even though Beca knows if their positions were reversed and Chloe were dragging her all over the mall aimlessly, she’d be irritated. “Do you have a rough idea of what would be good?”

“I’m just not sure if we should do, like, individual things?” Beca answers as they walk past additional stores without any particular destination in mind. “Or eleven of the same thing.”

“Eleven? There are ten of us.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I – I thought maybe, you know, maybe Aubrey would like something, since she really… helped bring… us togeth – uh...” Beca trails off at the megawatt smile growing on Chloe’s face.

As Beca stares, Chloe’s grin widens until she looks utterly delighted. Her mouth opens and Beca’s sure she’s about two seconds from having her eardrums ruptured by a very Chloe-esque gush of excitement, and all because she’s bothering to include Aubrey.

“Stop.” Beca cuts her off seriously. “Stop that right now. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t make it weird.”

She watches as Chloe’s expression twitches and shifts as she struggles to reign in her enthusiasm. It takes her a moment, but finally, Chloe’s smile fades and she takes on the appearance more appropriate of someone at a serious business meeting.

“Better,” Beca says cautiously.

Instantly, Chloe’s beaming smile breaks free, almost blinding Beca with its intensity. “You are so CUTE! And SOFT!” Chloe squeals with a laugh, turning several heads in their direction.

“Whatever,” Beca rolls her eyes, feeling her own lips lift in spite of herself. If someone had told her three years ago she’d be looking for a Bellas gift to Aubrey, she’d have laughed, too.

Chloe’s shoulder bumps into hers playfully, and Beca glances over at her still-massive smile.

“Anyway…” she emphasizes, ignoring Chloe’s glee as they continue walking past store fronts. “What do you think about the gift thing?”

Chloe’s fingers lace with her own and she runs her thumb absentmindedly along the back of Chloe’s hand. By now, the action has become reflexive, though it never fails to make her heart stutter. Beca swings their hands between them gently as they navigate around the decent amount of other people in the mall.

“Individual might be nice,” Chloe says slowly, “but then there’s that whole thing where you have to keep everything the same price so it’s fair.”

“Oh, yeah,” Beca agrees, “that gets hard.” She grimaces and adds, “Plus, like – whenever I think of getting something for Stacie, all I can picture is a vibrator, and – no.”

“You’re picturing Stacie with a vibrator? Should I be jealous?” Chloe looks at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

Chloe hums, grinning in satisfaction.

They keep moving through the mall, Beca checking out every store front they pass. They pass a shoe outlet, a video game store, and a kitchen store, none of which stand out. She gets distracted, then, when she looks across the main aisle and makes eye contact with a middle-aged woman, who quickly looks away. Beca looks away too, self-conscious and wondering if maybe her hair is an issue, but a glance in the reflective glass of another store front shows that she looks fine.

“I think the same gifts for everyone is a good idea, though,” Chloe continues thoughtfully. “That way it’s, like, a, you know, like a team gift, since we’re a team.”

Beca nods. “Yeah, okay, I just don’t know what would be good for…”

Her voice again trails off into nothingness as she catches another stranger’s eye, this time, an older man. He’s seated on a bench they’re walking past, glaring in their direction with a heavy frown on his face. As Beca watches, she notices his gaze is fixed low; with a jolt, Beca realizes he’s staring at their joined hands.

Oh. Right.

Beca’s neck warms and her eyes drop to scan the floor in front of them, though she knows that rationally, she has nothing to feel bad for.

“Hmm,” Chloe muses, apparently oblivious of the man’s hostility. “Team… maybe T-shirts? Sweaters… uh, some sort of, I don’t know, memory book?”

“Wh – oh, that could be cute…”

“Beca?”

Beca runs her tongue over her front teeth, looking around carefully. “Listen, Chlo, maybe we should – oh!”

Beca stops talking abruptly when her eyes land on a piercing and jewelry kiosk in the middle of the aisle. It’s like a lightbulb turns on in her mind, the sudden idea driving everything else away.

“Okay, wait,” she says, thinking rapidly. “This might be lame, and you have to tell me if it’s lame.” She glances over, waiting until Chloe nods before continuing, “...But how do you feel about matching necklaces?”

Chloe stops dead in her tracks, her mouth popping open in surprise.

Beca stops, too, dragged to a halt by Chloe’s hand still wound around her own. “Oh, god,” she groans. “It’s lame, isn’t it? Yeah, you’re right, it’s lame. We definitely don’t need to –”

“No, Bec – it’s – that’s a great idea!”

“Really?”

“Definitely,” Chloe says firmly, pulling Beca toward the jewelry kiosk so abruptly it makes her stumble the first few steps and squeak embarrassingly in surprise.

Chloe drags her right up to the counter, moving directly to the necklace section with an excited squeal. She grips Beca’s hand even more tightly, tugging her close and peering down and into the display case happily. Beca glances up at the woman running the stand, smiling a little to half-apologize for their abrupt approach, only for the woman to smile back tight-lipped, her eyes flicking around almost furtively.

A brick scrapes its way down Beca’s throat to drop into her stomach.

Beca mimics the woman and glances around, trying to remain inconspicuous. People around them are probably making assumptions; they’re holding hands, standing at a jewelry kiosk, and Chloe had been obviously excited over something. Her blood runs cold when she realizes there are more than a few people staring over at them now with judgment in their eyes.

Beca forces herself to take a deep breath through her nose. There are “Sheilas” everywhere.  

“What about that one?” Chloe asks, refocusing Beca’s attention on the display case.

She moves closer to Chloe under the pretext of peering down into the case, angling herself so as to block Chloe as best she can from the strangers’ views.

“Um,” Beca says, her eyes landing on the necklace Chloe’s pointing at. She doesn’t want to alarm Chloe by making her aware of the electric storm of hostility surrounding them. The best thing to do would be to find something quickly and get out of the mall before anything happens.

Thankfully, the necklace Chloe has pointed out is a simple one: a standard quarter note on a thin golden chain, with the word “Belle” inscribed along its stem in cursive. It’s small, elegant, and almost too perfect to be real.

“Does that say…?”

“Yes,” Chloe smiles at her, and Beca can’t help but grin back.

“It’s perfect,” she says, grateful it was an easy find.

Chloe beams and squeezes Beca’s hand, which she takes as agreement.

Beca looks to the woman running the kiosk. She has to clear her throat to regain her attention; the woman had been staring hard in the opposite direction. “Um, hi. We’ll take eleven of these ‘Belle’ ones, please, if you have them.”

***************

Beca’s watching Pretty Little Liars when she’s 16. She’s only been living with Warren and Sheila for a few months, and this show is overdramatic, but it’s a distraction.

“Change the channel. I don’t want to see that,” Sheila’s voice sounds from behind her. “I don’t like you watching this.”

“Why?” Beca asks sullenly, not bothering to twist around on the couch.

“I heard they had a lesbian on it. That’s not something you need to see,” Sheila says scornfully. “There never used to be so many gays on TV, and I don’t see why they have to have them on all the shows now.”

Beca knows which character Sheila is talking about. In truth, she doesn’t always like seeing that, either; It makes her feel weird, unexpected things that she doesn’t want to think about. She doesn’t really want to do anything Sheila tells her, though, so she ignores her and leaves the show on. With a huff of annoyance, Sheila comes around the couch, snatches away the remote control, and changes the channel herself.

***************

The kiosk manager raises her eyebrows, but whether at the quick necklace choice or at the sheer number requested, Beca doesn’t know. Still, the woman nods without further comment and kneels to open a cabinet within the kiosk and starts rifling through it, presumably to check her stock.

Even as Chloe leans over the counter in excited anticipation, the back of Beca’s neck prickles and dread floods her senses.

She turns automatically, pivoting so her body fully shields Chloe’s.

“Bec, what –”

Someone tall – she catches a glimpse of a beard and narrowed brown eyes – barrels into Beca’s shoulder, sending her stumbling backward and into Chloe.

***************

She’s 18 when Sheila, after graduation, tells her, “Just wait until college, you’ll meet your future husband there.”

Beca tries to feign interest, instead of acknowledging the vague disgust she feels at the thought. She wasn’t going to college to meet a husband; if she had her way, she wouldn’t even be going to college at all.

“What’s the male-to-female ratio of Barden, again?” Sheila asks Warren, who shrugs uncomfortably. Beca has to look away.

***************

Beca tenses and holds her breath, waiting for a fist to appear in her gut or a shove to send both her and Chloe flying, but it never comes.

Instead, a sharp male voice hisses directly into her ear, “It’s still a fucking disgusting sin, even if you fags are able to pick out rings.”

Chloe gasps in shock and a white-hot pain slices through Beca’s chest; she might as well have been punched, for what those words did to her. The next instant, the man moves on, plowing through them roughly and leaving them staggering. Instinctively, as soon as she and Chloe catch their balance, Beca stares after the him, but can only see the back of his head moving away rapidly.

***************

She’s sitting with the other Bellas, staring at Jessica’s (or Ashley’s) laptop in nervous anticipation. The livestream of the Marriage Equality decision plays as they all watch with bated breath. Chloe makes it to the sitting room just in time, the familiar butterflies stirring in Beca’s stomach at the thought of asking her out soon…

On the stream, the votes start to appear, each one sending a pang through Beca’s entire body. She watches, ensnared and terrified. It’s going to be close; her heart sinks as she realizes they probably won’t win.

But then, they do. It’s 5-4, a small margin. It’s amazing and it’s exhilarating and it’s mind-numbing.

It’s much, much too close for comfort.

***************

Beca’s body goes numb with shock and fear, even as the man’s head is lost in the crowd.

She looks around; almost everyone near them is staring, wide-eyed.

Beca tugs her hand from Chloe’s.

She does it because she’s not thinking. She does it because everyone is staring at them. She does it because she doesn’t know what else to do.

She regrets it the instant it happens.

Chloe makes a small noise of protest, a hurt little cry that rips Beca apart even more than the man’s words had. She instantly knows that sound is going to echo in her nightmares.

She can feel Chloe’s eyes on the side of her face, can feel the shame warming her neck and face, but all she can do is watch the woman behind the kiosk extract more versions of the music note necklace from her supplies.

Beca swallows.

Chloe’s staring at her, her hand still dangling in the air between them. Beca can’t do anything about it.

She shoves her own hands deep into her front pockets, balling them into fists and digging her nails into her palms so she can feel something besides the crushing weight of Chloe’s accusing eyes on her face.

She wants to reach out. More than anything, Beca wants to reach out to reconnect their hands.

But it’s not safe.

They can’t act like a couple in public. Not when there are people who say things like that. Not when there are people who might hurt them.

Beca forces herself to glance over to convey this to Chloe silently – I’m trying to protect you – but Chloe looks away, her eyes dropping to the display case. She shifts, putting a few inches of empty space between herself and Beca.

A heavy lump forming in her throat, Beca looks back behind the kiosk. She watches the saleswoman messily wrap the eleven identical necklaces in tissue paper, moving hurriedly and glancing around anxiously. Heart sinking, Beca wonders if they’d somehow put this woman at risk just for shopping there. She isn’t sure if she should apologize or make some suggestion about the mall security, but her voice lodges behind the growing mass in her throat.

Chloe hasn’t moved. Beca isn’t sure if she’s even breathed.

“Here,” the woman behind the kiosk says roughly, startling Beca. It’s the first word she’s spoken since they arrived. The necklaces, all wrapped, have been placed in gift bag on the counter, with the total price for them displayed on the computer. Beca nods her thanks and hands over her debit card with trembling fingers. The woman swipes and hands it back, Beca signs the receipt without recognizing her own signature, and the bag is shoved in her hand and they’re free to go.

Before Beca knows what’s happening, Chloe is stalking away, refusing to look back. Beca can only follow, jamming her debit card back into her bag haphazardly and half-jogging to keep up. Chloe sets a breakneck pace, her feet hitting the ground – right, left, right, left – more quickly than Beca can manage to keep up with. Red curls duck and weave through people – past a group of teenagers, past a middle-aged man and woman holding hands (why do they get to hold hands?) – as if she’s trying to lose Beca in the crowd.

“Chloe, wait!”

She doesn’t look back.

Beca’s ears are ringing.

She follows Chloe on autopilot, her mind whirling and body quaking.

Time moves in odd gallops.

They’re leaving the kiosk.

They’re walking past the stores they’d already tried – Chloe hasn’t looked back yet.

They’re exiting the mall – surely, Chloe’s about to stop and wait for her. (She doesn’t stop.)

They’re at Chloe’s car – Chloe’s steps, right, left, right, left.

She wonders for a moment, as Chloe climbs into the driver’s seat, if the passenger door will even open for her when she gets there. Chloe shuts her door and starts the car before Beca even touches the handle. When she does, the door does open for her, and she swings herself in and gets the door closed only an instant before Chloe pulls forward from her parking space. Beca scrabbles for her seatbelt, clicking it into place as Chloe drives out of the lot, cutting off another driver at the exit.

The radio is off; Chloe must have turned it off after climbing into the car, because it had been blasting on their way there. They’d sung along with it. That seems like days ago, rather than barely two hours.

Darkness has officially fallen outside, making the interior of the car small and suffocating. Beca glances over; Chloe’s knuckles are while on the wheel, her form rigid in the seat, and jaw clenched so tightly Beca isn’t sure if she’ll ever speak again. Her eyes never waver from the road. A hole opening in her chest, Beca turns to stare out the passenger window without seeing. She shifts in her seat, her movements loud in the otherwise silent car.

She has never felt so lonely in Chloe’s presence.

I was trying to protect you.

Time continues to move in strange, jerky dollops, and in what could be hours or seconds, Chloe pulls up to the Bella house. Beca sees many of the upstairs lights are on, but not the main living room, and relief washes over her at the thought of avoiding the Bellas tonight.

Chloe parks the car and turns it off. Beca half-expects her to just get out and walk away again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits and stares down at her lap, her fingers twisting together.

Somehow, this is even scarier than Chloe walking away from her.

Beca wants to reach out, to soothe the tension she senses between Chloe’s shoulders, but she knows her touch would be unwelcome.

So, she waits, and starts counting in order to keep hold of her sanity.

She gets to thirty-seven before Chloe sighs deeply and looks over at her, making eye contact for the first time since the kiosk. The dullness of her eyes is horrifying.

“Do you still want to be with me?” Chloe asks, looking more afraid than Beca has ever seen her.

Yes. Yes, more than anything.

It’s still a fucking disgusting sin, even if you fags are able to pick out rings.

“I…”

She hesitates just a second too long, lost in her own fear of the world.

Chloe’s face pales and, in one fluid motion, she unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her car door. She steps out and closes it, then jogs to the Bella house.

“No, I – wait!” Beca shouts, but Chloe doesn’t look back. She goes inside the house and slams the front door behind her.

Beca’s frozen to her seat, staring dumbly at the house in shock. Two seconds pass, then four, then six, then her brain screams at her to move.

She rips off the seatbelt, swearing when it gets caught on her hand, and shoulders open the car door. She throws herself out, leaving behind the bag of necklaces and slamming the door closed behind her, and then she’s running, actually full-out running for the front door. She flies up the porch steps, flings open the door, and launches herself inside.

A bedroom door slams upstairs, and she knows it can only be Chloe’s. Setting her jaw against the panic threatening to engulf her, Beca bounds up the steps, taking them two at a time. She reaches the second-floor landing and rushes to Chloe’s bedroom door, hand flying to the handle to push her way inside.

Her heart stops.

For the first time ever, Chloe’s door is locked against her.