#or watched the show so i had no idea what to say for any of these

[starryylies]

Simon's reaction his s/o saying "waiting for it still marriage" but turns out she just wasn't ready to show her body ( tho she likes it but yk second thought about it) , but still wants to get fuk by him

Hii thank you for this ask!!

This ask hit close to home. I feel the same way honestly 😭😭

I’m so sorry on how late the response is. I hope you enjoy though!

You’d told simon pretty early on in the relationship that you wanted to wait until marriage.

Simon was perfectly fine with that because that indirectly meant you saw him getting married to you.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you thought Simon had gone to pick up some groceries while you were laying on your shared bed, on a call with your friend

You were expressing how you feel like a liar since you’re basically hiding the truth on as to why you don’t want to have sex with simon.

Simon being the sneaky fuck he is decided to evesdrop because he was suddenly nervous as to why you don’t want to do it with him if marriage is not the reason.

He started overthinking, feeling as if he isn’t attractive enough for you to actually have sex with him.

But his train of thought was halted when you told your friend that it’s because you don’t know if he will react pleasantly to the way your body looks and also because he’d be the first person to see it.

Simon was dumbfounded, like he genuinely didn’t understand where the fuck you’d even get the idea that he won’t like your stunning and perfect body, He knows it’s stunning and perfect because he’s staring at it almost all the time

but the first person to see it thing really inflated his ego.

Simon wants to burst in your room and confront you but he stops himself to hear what you have to say next

You tell your friend you’re scared he might find your body disgusting and unattractive.

And that’s when simon decides he’s heard enough and decides to barge into your room.

“Hey si, what’re you doing home so quick, did you get the groceries?” You’re startled by his sudden appearance and start worrying if he heard your conversation

“I never went”

“ were you evesdropping on me?” You ask hurriedly

“Yes” he says with a blank face.

You really don’t know how to reply to that but applaud his honesty from inside

“Love, I needa speak to you”

“I don’t get where you’ve gotten this idea from but ya really need to get rid of it” he says curtly

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” You groan out

“Well not hard enough.”

“Simon!”

“Okay sorry, but trust me luv. I’ll be the lucky bastard who’d get to see you and trust me there’s no way in hell I’d ever think of it as any less than the best”

“But si, it’s not like the girls on insta and TikTok”

“I don’t have social media”

“Fine then it’s not like the girls in porn”

“Even you know I don’t watch porn, find it fucking terrible and hilarious. Don’t know how ya wank to it honestly.”

You’re left speechless.

Simon seems to catch onto that and then continues to say,

“And love trust me, we don’t have to do it if you’re not ready yet. Whenever and wherever you are, I’m ready too” he gives you a soft pat on your head, tracing his fingers down to your cheek and giving it a soft pinch.

“So wherever?” You joke, giving him a toothy and mischievous smirk.

“In the fuckin’ backseat if ya want to baby” he laughs out, his deep chuckle reverberating in your spine.

“I love you si, thank you for not being an ass about this”

you give him a soft kiss which takes further by making it more intense, his mouth gobbling yours and sounds of soft moans in between flooding the room.

Oh and your friend on the call is stuck hearing all that as well :)

[parker-artio]

I had the funniest idea….

SO imagine that Jason accidentally takes in a kid, he doesn’t want to do the fostering thing because he knows how emotionally hurting that can be for a kid, so he tries to find a term for it and settles on ‘just taking care of the kid till they’re 18.’

Stupid he knows.

But only a few weeks in and he’s already arguing with this kid over small things, they won’t eat dinner he cooked, they aren’t doing their homework, they’re fighting kids in school, and Jason doesn’t know what to do. So what does he do? HE GOES TO BRUCE.

Bruce is surprised, because considering how much Jason would willingly tell him, he might not even know that Jason’s watching this kid. So when he says ‘How do you manage a kid?’ He thinks Jason got a girl pregnant. But he can’t lecture Jason on this, he’s an adult now, and doesn’t see Bruce as a dad anymore. So he just tries to lightly tell Jason that he has no fucking clue.

Bruce: Well uh, I only got you kids when you were older, plus, I mean, it’s not that bad, yeah? Just some perspective things, probably think about that, and what’s going through their mind and how they’re reacting to it.

Jason who thinks Bruce knows (a chronic ‘I thought I told you?’ Person) and is confused why he said he got all of them older, considering that his kid is like 12-14 ish: Right, perspective.

But the thing is, the advice actually helps.

Jason actually starts looking at their perspective and it helps. A lot. The kid slowly becomes more open, and Jason starts to feel more parental. Then before he knows it he’s going to Bruce asking for advice on how to start the adoption process.

Once again- Bruce thinks he got a girl knocked up- quickly realizes he very much in fact did not, and was taking care of a kid. Like he does.

Bruce, as the realization sets in: Well, I’d ask them what they think about being adopted first…

Jason watching as Bruce keeps blinking and looking away: B are you about to cry?

Bruce tearing up: No, no, I’m not. Got dust in my eyes…



Obviously Jason takes his advice, especially since the first time it helped so much. The kid is hesitant, but after a bit is slowly getting okay with the idea.

But when Jason gets a last minute tip about Black mask going to Cuba for something, he needs someone to watch the kid. And who does he know that loves kids, and would babysit any kid even if they’ve never met the kid? That’s right, Bruce!

So he tells the kid everything they need to know and sends Bruce a single text message saying ‘You’re babysitting.’

Bruce is scared. What does he mean by that?

Then he shows up with this preteen-young teen kid, who’s short and looks like Jason after he was first taken in by Bruce and lived with him for a while (aka a street kid who’s actually starting to eat right and looks healthier) and everything clicks into place. This kid is older.

But Bruce wants to cry- because this is his potential first grandchild, and that’s amazing.

Jason to the kid: It’ll only be three days at most, okay?

The kid: okay.

Bruce a few feet away trying not to sob: Hi- I’m Bruce, you are?

Jason disgusted at Bruce’s such obvious emotions- no one shows their emotions in their face in this family: Chill out, you’re scaring them.

Bonus points if the kids a girl. Jason is a girl dad at heart. Tell me I’m wrong.

[mayahawkesfirstwife]

hiiiiii. can you do a se mi fic where the reader is a bimbo and in a relationship (maybe thanos or nam gyu's girlfriend) and se mi is attracted to her. se mi lies to her and tells her that doing things with other girls 'doesn't count as cheating' and the reader believes her so they...you know.

bonus for her boyfriend walking in and se mi just being smug

It Doesn’t Count as Cheating if We’re Girls

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

Pairings: Se-mi x Fem! Bimbo! Reader (Bf! Nam-gyu x Fem! Bimbo! Reader)

Summary: Se-mi tells Nam-gyu’s bimbo girlfriend if you do things with a girl it doesn’t count as cheating.

Warnings: Smut, cheating, oral sex, praise kink, fingering, getting caught, etc.

Author Note: I LOVEEE THIS IDEA!! I chose Nam-gyu as bf bc their beef in the show ITS JUST PERFECT that she wants to steal u from him!!! I’m really not good at writing bimbo! Reader so sorry abt that! Sorry if theres any mistakes!! I kinda hate the ending…

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

Se-mi knew it was wrong.

You were Nam-gyu’s girlfriend, not hers. But she couldn’t help herself, you were too hot for Nam-gyu.

Yeah, you were naive, but she thought it was cute. Nam-gyu didn’t appreciate what good he had, he was so mean to you.

She seen it too, the way he spoke to you. You thought it was normal for boyfriends to treat their girlfriends that way so you never did anything about it.

But if Nam-gyu wouldn’t treat you right, Se-mi would. She could show you she’s better in one night.

Which is why she suggested they all have a ‘sleepover’ at Nam-gyu’s house.

The friend group thought it was a bit random but then they agreed that it actually sounded fun.

They all watched movies and played video games while you sat beside your boyfriend, simply looking pretty.

Se-mi kept glancing and staring over at you, the first time you caught her you waved at her.

When you waved she nodded her head upward and it made you feel funny inside.

You’d continue to catch her stares, you’d smile at her sweetly and she’d smirk as she looks away.

Soon she seen you yawn and tell Nam-gyu that you were going to his room to sleep.

She didn’t know how her plan would even work out but she knew you’d have to leave his room eventually, to use the restroom or go to the kitchen.

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

They all grow tired and she took the guest room while everyone else slept in the living room and Nam-gyu of course slept in his room with you.

She was right.

She heard some footsteps and she quickly got up and peeked out the door.

You turn to her, she looks down and checks you out, you were wearing a cute pink long sleeve shirt with white lace trim and some white pajama shorts.

“Hey.” Se-mi smirks, leaning on the door.

“Hi, Se-mi!” You smile, fiddling with your glass of water.

“Want to come inside so we can talk?” Se-mi knew you’d say yes, why wouldn’t you.

“Sure.” You smile, she lets you in and shuts the door behind you.

You set the glass of water down on the nightstand and sat on the guest bed.

You fold your leg onto the bed as she gets in the bed beside you, she gets very close.

She puts her hand on your thigh and when you turn to her, she smashes her lips against yours.

You hum, pulling back quickly. “Se-mi!” You gasp, standing up quickly.

“You-I…I’m with Nam-gyu.” You nervously said, she moves closer to the edge of the bed.

“I know.” She smirks, you were confused.

“Oh…so then why did you kiss me? I don’t want to cheat on my boyfriend!” You gasp.

“Oh, honey…it’s not cheating if we’re both girls.” She says, you hum.

“Wait, really?” You ask, tilting your head.

She pulls you closer by your hip, “Yeah, it has to be a guy to count as cheating.” She lies but you believed her of course.

“Oh, I didn’t know that!” You giggle, she hums. “Sit down.”

You sit beside her, her hands stay on her hips. “We’ll only do it this once, mhm? Neither of us should tell anyone.” You nod, and scoot closer.

She kisses you softly, you kiss her back this time, wow, she’s a great kisser.

She deepens the kiss and her hand reaches down and grabs your boob.

You pull back, “Shh, it’s okay. I can make you feel so good.” She quickly kisses you again.

You moan into the kiss as her other hand grabs your boob, she squeezed them both in her palms.

She pinches your nipple between her index and thumb and your mouth opens slightly, she slips her tongue into your mouth.

It was amazing. Nothing like with Nam-gyu at all. She knew what she was doing and she was really good at it.

She pulls back after a while and stood up, you watch her curiously as she grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down.

You gasp lightly, “Is this okay?” She asks, you nod quickly and she smirks, taking your pink panties off and tossing them.

“I’m gonna make you feel way better than your boyfriend ever has.” She says, kissing down your thighs, it takes you a moment to process what she said.

“W-Wait, what?”

She looks up at you and her lips attach to your clit and start sucking on it.

“Oh, fuck! Se-mi!” You moaned loudly.

She shook her head and you don’t understand what she means by it as she keeps sucking and licking on your clit.

You moaned quite loudly, “Shut the fuck up.” She says against you.

“I-I can’t, it’s so fucking good.” You whimper, head falling back.

“Well, you better figure something out or everyone is going to hear.” She says, you grip her hair when she continued to suck your clit.

She’s using her tongue a lot and you moaned loudly, she reaches up and slaps her palm over your mouth, muffling your moans.

You moan into her hand and your thighs start to squeeze shut around her head and she pulls them apart with one of her hands.

You whimper into her hand and she rubs your inner thigh softly, “Shh, it’s okay, I got you.” She mutters into you.

You look down at her, hands gripping the sheets in your palms.

You moan as her tongue works magic on you and your back starts to arch and you push on her shoulder as you whine.

She nods into you and you cum on her tongue, she pulls back with a pant and you whine when she pulls her hand away from your mouth.

She crawls up to hover over you, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, especially when you cum.” She smirks, kissing down your neck.

She kisses your breasts, starting to suck the skin above your nipples.

“Se-mi, please…” You whine.

She reaches down, spreading your legs open more and her fingers tease your folds, you whimper.

“P-Please!” You whimper, she smirks and starts to suck your left nipple.

You feel her middle and ring finger slide into your folds slowly and you hiss.

“Oh, S-Se-mi!” You gasp, feeling full of her two long fingers.

She slowly pumps them in and out while you moan as she sucks your nipples.

She uses her other hand to grab your right boob and squeeze it, you moan.

“F-Faster, please, oh!”

She pumps faster and starts to curl her fingers into you, making you moan loudly.

“Oh, fuck! D-Don’t stop, r-right there!” You whimper, she smirks.

“Oh, yeah? You like that?”

You whined loudly, “I love it, Sem!”

She continued to speed up and curl her fingers, you grip her shoulder tightly, “F-Fuck!” You push on her shoulder.

“It’s too much, fuck…Se-mi it’s too much!” You whimper, she shushed you.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just go on and cum for me, i’ll make it all better, I promise.” She praises, you moaned as you feel yourself cum on her fingers.

You pant as she pulls back, pulling her fingers out of you and you shut your legs as she gets off of you, laying beside you.

You sat up on your elbows and put your bra and panties on before looking over at Se-mi, who laid beside you still fully dressed.

“Se-mi?” You mutter, she looks over at you. “Yeah?”

“Can I do you next? Please?” You ask, she smirks, nodding her head.

“Yeah, come here.” She hums as you crawl over, sitting between her now open legs.

You pull her sweatpants down, she helps you get them off and tosses them.

You look up at her and she nods, you pull her underwear down and toss them by her sweatpants.

“What should I do?” You ask, leaning closer to her.

“Go on, eat my pussy.” She pushes on your head, you look up at her nervously as you face her naked bottom.

“I never did this for a girl before…” You admit.

“I know, I know, it’s alright. Just do what feels right, i’ll tell you what feels good, mhm?”

You nod, leaning in to lick up her folds slowly, she groans.

You move up to her clit, sucking and licking on it just like she had did you before.

“Ah, fuck…that’s good, keep doing that.” She groans, you moan into her, going faster.

You suck on her clit hard, she groans loudly and grips your hair tightly, tugging it.

“Fuck, baby…don’t stop!” She hisses, hips bucking up into you, making you hum into her.

Then the door swings open.

“Baby?”

You pull back, turning to face the voice of your boyfriend as you wipe your lip, he looked angry and hurt.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I-I was just…making Se-mi feel better…” You shrug, confused.

“Making Se-mi feel better? By cheating on me?” He shouts.

“I-I’m not cheating, babe!” You said, he scoffs as Se-mi gets her sweatpants on.

“Are you fucking dumb? You eating Se-mi out is cheating!” He hissed.

“I-I thought it wasn’t.” You glance at Se-mi who smirks who a shrug.

“Why the fuck whould it not be cheating?” Nam-gyu asks, you cross your arms.

“Well, Se-mi said it didn’t count if we were girls…” You said, Se-mi chuckles.

“Nam-gyu, I didn’t say that.”

You frown, looking back at your boyfriend. “Babe, i’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, whatever, just get out. I want both of you out.”

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

[onceinamillionposter]

Yandere!L&D band headcannons

a/n : i literally just felt silly so I mean why not

Lead Vocalists : Rafayel

Drums: Sylus

Guitarist : Zayne

Guitarist : Xavier

Lead rapper : Caleb

With you as the manager !

Right off the bat, it was hell. You got fired from your last gig because your last managing job didn’t quite work out with a whole money laundering scheme being run behind the scenes and you having no idea, you were broke to say the least.

That was before you got that DM, the old manager of the L&D boys is retiring , and apparently you would be a good fit- although your face was all over the news. You practically jumped to the opportunity, signing your life away as you knew it.

You got situated slowly, being introduced to the members - Caleb and you hit it right off the bat , as well as Xavier and Rafayel but Zayne and Sylus were quite distant.

You learnt about them, Caleb would often pick on the others , Rafayel would be trouble just for the fun of it , Zayne was busy reading books and sketching new designs for the band and Sylus was often talking to two twins? You never pried and he never told. Xavier would always be asleep on the common room couch but would wake up when you were desperate for things done.

You had gotten used to the routine, managing accounts would have Rafayel sitting scrolling on his phone in your office often asking ,”Do your eyes not get tired looking at the screen? Why don’t we just go out!” Often you were able to get him to stop bothering you but sometimes he would drag you out regardless making it a bit too intimate.

When it was spring cleaning day , you and Zayne often bonded in silence, sometimes you asked the him about his interests, learning he’s a fan of medicine and drawing anatomy which garnered your attention so you would discuss about what you knew.

Sylus and you would work out at the gym, turning into a competition sometimes. He would help you box and you would show him pilates which he never (openly) struggled with. Sometimes you guys would go on morning runs - very early runs just so people don’t get the wrong idea.

Caleb, and you would bond over board games - monopoly, uno, hell even chess! Anything to keep the day moving. Also investing in the newest consoles (he has the bank of a billionaire he just wanted to tease) , and surprising you with them became normal. Just dance was an interesting time!

And finally Xavier, you and him watched movies and shows together and it was so fun - for you - often enough Xavier just fell asleep but when he woke up, you would cook together or at least try. He burnt more than cooked but that way okay, cause in the end the cupcakes were edible- sure they weren’t the best but they were consumable (when you look past the dark crust)!

You usually had to help them get things set up, stages, events and outfits. Everytime the tailor came in you figured that you would be sitting in a different room but for some reason or the other, everyone - minus Zayne - found a reason for you to be taking their measurements. Shirtless , might I add.

Rafayel claimed the tailor was incompetent - as if a novice like yourself would be any better , Caleb said that the tailor kept scratching at him - you took a peak at the nails and they were the dullest acrylic’s you had ever seen , Xavier said they made him uncomfortable but they had a squeaky clean record last time you checked and Sylus - ever honest - simply said “I hate them.” (you had to make them sign a non disclosure agreement after all of this)

One way or another you slowly were apart of their daily routines. But then the stranger things came, the weird lack of dating claims, back before you became manager there was tons of women that were accused of being with them but suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet, and then the first leak of you came with you and Sylus in an uncomfortably ,weirdly, intimate position. Slowly the media turned heads, it was strange it had been awhile since they had been in. any romantic spectacles and the media love drama.

Another time was Rafayel holding your hand and you holding his plushies he won at the arcade, him dragging you to the next stand. At the time it was anything but romantic but now it looked like a common date? To say the media blew up was a surprise, you had to practically beg Rafayel to make a video clarifying it was just getting him new stuff for his room.

Again a stupid photo really, Caleb holding your clip board so high you had to get on your tippy toes, it was backstage so you had to guess it was the people backstage who were working that took that awfully blurry photo- a pain it was really.

You and Zayne- to your surprise- also got a photo! Hooray! You took him out to satisfy his sweet tooth, he insisted he couldn’t work without it - (he just wanted you to himself) - maybe it was the setting? It being a kitty cafe but you know what - you still don’t know but it garnered attention , another tweet to the main profile for the boys.

But the worst, Xavier resting his head on your shoulder after a long day at the studio. He was so close, too close for you to even make an excuse at the time. But either way the criticism rolled in,

“L&D boys pass around,” “Manager managing all 5 boys”, “Common whore?” It frustrated you so deeply you wished to quit the job as much as you were payed , deciding it wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t know , they weren’t giving you up like that. Not when they slowly loved you, not yet.

[lydiasfalling]

PINS AND NEEDLES

percy jackson x athena!reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, post breakup, angst, possible part two??? ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

post breakup yearning? sign me up. also i’ve never ever written athena reader cause it feels too much like writing myself and i don’t want to project but i hope u guys enjoy!!! (unedited!)

it had been exactly three weeks, two days, and six hours since you and percy jackson had broken up. now, while it pained you to admit, you missed him. your friends would tell you that you couldn’t miss him. not when you had left him the way you did. truth is, life as a demigod was hard. having no guarantees that you would even be alive tomorrow was a hard pill to swallow. it had gotten to a point where it felt wrong to give percy another weight on his back. he was already under the pressure of saving the world, he didn’t need a relationship to balance on it.

first came the arguing. it had become a staple for the recent era of your relationship. you would bring up the idea of taking a break, which he would turn down. he refused to hear you out whatsoever. then came the silent treatment. he couldn’t stand how every time you’d spoken, you would flip it back to the topic of breaking up. he thought better to just ignore the problem all together. finally, came the blow up. you two had found a rare moment of peace amongst the war. his fingered takes through your wet hair as you laid on his lap. you had again decided to bring up the topic again. the resulted in the fight. breaking up wasn’t easy, but something you saw necessary.

now, you paced in your cabin. these past few weeks had been a personal tartarus for you ( and you assumed percy, or he-who-shall-not-be-named ). every little thing reminded you of him. the smell of the lake you’d spend hours swimming in. the fields you would run through hand-in-hand. the bed you would spend hours having—well, you get the point. every corner held a memory. this realization made you want to rip your scalp clean off.

however, no matter how much you would deny it, you were still hopelessly in-love with perseus jackson. watching him from a far made you realize just how lucky you had been to call him yours. the beauty of his soul was one you wish could be captured and put in a jar for everyone to admire. the selfish part of you wanted that jar on your nightstand. you decided now was the time. you would finally leave the comfort of your cabin and venture into the camp. your siblings were sure that you were aware how many times percy had asked them about you. he told them to make sure you got proper care since he couldn’t be the one to do so. you knew he’d be happy to see you getting dressed to leave.

“y/n? you coming?” your sister had asked you. it was just about to be lunch.

“mhm. give me one moment.” the mirror showed you what you had dread seeing. heavy purple bags laid under your eyes. your cheeks seemed hollow. people would argue that you couldn’t be sad since you broke up with him, but they didn’t understand. you and percy were—by definition—joined at the hip. you did everything together. now the color had been drained out of usually exciting things.

“any day now.” you joined your sister at the doorframe, stepping out into the sun. the aroma of camp consumed your senses, putting you at a momentary state of ease. this ended soon as you felt the formalist presence of a certain brunette boy. his aura was contagious. you could feel him radiating half way across the world. however, he was unusually dull. turning around, you finally came face to face with percy.

“i. . . uh. . . hi, ang—y/n. didn’t see ya there.” even in the awkward atmosphere, he still managed to bring your shoulders down and your brows to relax.

“mhm. . .” you didn’t truly speak, scared of what would leave your mouth. you quickly turned back around and began to shuffle away. percy hand caught your wrist in record time.

“can we, ya know, talk? i don’t think i got to say my piece when everything went down.” he kept his hand on your skin, goosebumps trailing up your arm at the feeling. you ripped you arm away as if the touch had burned you.

“now’s not a great time.”

“okay, well, when is a good time?” he shifted on his heels

“sometime. . . other. . . than now?” you said, though it sounded more like a question to both of you.

“what happened?” he questioned, an exasperated look coming over his features.

“what?” you asked.

“to us! what happened to us? i mean. . .fuck, y/n. i was in love with you. scratch that. i am in love with you. and im trying really. really hard to respect your decision. but how can i? how can i walk past you every single day knowing im so beyond in love with i can’t even function? i cant even think about battle anymore. it’s you. you occupy every thought from the moment i wake up to the moment i fall to sleep. it’s painful.”

“it’s for the best.” you whispered.

“bullshit! i think you’re just scared!” his volume increased, causing other campers to turn in your direction.

“lower your voice, percy.” you smiled at everyone, hoping they would stop listening. “like i said, this really isn’t a good time.” you left soon after those words left your mouth, not allowing him any time to protest.

“y/n!” he called after you. you simply pretended not to hear it as you re-entered your cabin, slamming the door behind you.

taglist : @laufeysvalentine @cowboylikemac @lydiascabinsix @raysmayhem-72

my masterlist

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hii do u have any headcannons for reader being Baji's little sister and Mikey having a huge crush on her, but Baji is like suuuper protective of her and refuses anyone from the gang to date her because him being her brother is already dangerous as is, I hope this ask isn't too complicated 😅

Ok I set this in the good timeline and there's also two endings. We have the sfw ending which is with all the other hc's and we have the nsfw ending which is clearly labelled at the end. You guys can choose which ending you want to read (the bullet point with the star is where you should switch if you only want the nsfw ending).

Baji is very very vocal about the rules around his little sister, makes it very clear to all the guys that you're off limits and "too good for all of them anyway".

Unfortunately for Baji though, he's keeping an eye on the wrong ex gang members. He eyes the way Hakkai blushes to you, chases Kazutora and Hanma for saying they plan on dating you (they're actually just teasing Baji), raises his eyebrow at how friendly Chifuyu is with you and yells at the Haitani's for trying their pick up lines on you. The point is Baji is so distracted by the others that he never sees Mikey coming until it's too late. 

Mikey starts off simple, just getting you alone one day and asking you what you really thought about your brother's "rules". And as he watches you giggle and call Baji caring but too overprotective, he thinks he falls even more in love. 

And so operation "make y/n fall in love with Mikey" begins. Of course Mikey assembles a mini team for this. Including Draken (he think this is an awful idea and Baji will kill them all), Emma (she thinks the two of you will be cute together), Takemichi (he is very scared of the consequences of doing this), Sanzu (anything for Mikey) and Kisaki (has no idea why he's here and thinks this is a waste of time). Of course these meetings don't do much but Mikey does get some advice.

You start getting mini anonymous presents daily, always pretty or thoughtful things, the card is always just signed with a heart. (Baji is very concerned when he finds out).

Mikey also comes up with elaborate plans to get you alone so the two of you can hang out and get to know each other more. These mostly involve distracting Baji in some way, either by telling someone to hang out with him or by telling him a cat needs his help a few miles away. Baji falls for it everytime, rushing off and leaving you alone. 

He's very touchy with you whenever the two of you are together. He'll happily hold your hand, hug you and lean his head on your shoulder if he gets tired.

Also loves to take you for rides on his bike, Baji barely ever let's you ride with him because of the risk so Mikey figures it's up to him to show you how much fun it is (the feeling of you clinging to him is great too). 

Mikey really likes hanging out with you and get's a little sad whenever it ends but he can't risk Baji seeing this, not yet.

He takes you to the sea often too, sharing a taiyaki with you and talking about anything that comes to mind. It's here that he finally confesses to you and here where the two of you share your first kiss after you confess back to him too. 

You two become experts at secret dates and secret looks at each other. 

Even in front of Baji the two of you find ways to flirt and be affectionate with each other. Mikey whispering you a compliment as he walks past you. You telling Mikey he dropped something but when he picks up the paper it's just a note from you telling him how much you miss him during these big gatherings. Baji never even suspects anything at all.

It is a little difficult hiding your relationship at times but the two of you feel like you could do this forever but of course nothing can last forever.

☆It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.

The two of you had just settled down to watch a movie, happily sharing a blanket and cuddling when Baji walked in. Turns out the trip had been cancelled but that's nothing compared to the chaos that was about to go down.

Baji stands there for a moment, staring in disbelief at his oldest friend and his baby sister together. You and Mikey stare back in shock, no one daring to move until Baji opens his mouth to start yelling or talking. You're not sure what he was about to say because before he could get even a word out Mikey launched a pillow at his face, giving himself a head start to start running.

Baji very quickly shot out of the apartment after Mikey all while yelling "MY SISTER!!!!" You watch them for a moment before sighing and calling Draken. Before then calling Ryoko, if anyone could talk sense into your brother it was definitely your mother. 

After Draken (and Mitsuya, who he brought along as backup) separated them and Baji got yelled at down the phone by Ryoko a truce was made. You and Mikey could date and Baji wouldn't kill him if you kept all of that relationship stuff away from him and out of sight. It was a lot better then either you or Mikey had expected (largely thanks to Ryoko) so you both happily agreed. Holding hands and walking off together to Mikey's apartment this time (all while Baji yelled about how holding hands counts as "relationship stuff"). 

Nsfw ending

It was a pretty big day for the two of you, Baji had gone on an out of town trip, leaving you alone in your shared apartment. So of course you took the opportunity to invite Mikey over.

Eager to see and feel each other, things got steamy very quickly. Mikey was just in the middle of thrusting into you, in and out, getting lost in the warm, velvety feeling of your walls. While you were letting small moans and whimpers slip as Mikey went deeper, hitting your spot and making you see stars everytime. Both of you were so close and lost in each other that neither of you heard the key in the door or the door swing open. You moaned as it finally became all too much and you came, the feeling pushing Mikey over the edge with a groan as he releases his thick load into you. Neither you get to enjoy it for long though as Baji announces his presence with a dangerous growl.

Mikey frantically tries to cover you before putting his clothes on in record time and racing out of the door with Baji quickly pursuing him. All while he yells "MY SISTER!???? AND ON MY SOFA!?????" 

Putting some clothes on and cleaning up the mess as quick as you can, you frantically run after them. Who knows what Baji will do to Mikey after seeing that, whatever it is you need to stop it.

You think you're getting close as you hear raised voices but suddenly your wrist is being grabbed and some strang man is holding you still.

"Hey I recognise you! You're Baji Keisuke's sister, yeah. That fucker beat me up years ago, made me lose my gang and my reputation, I've always wanted to make him pay..."

You only see the knife for a second before it's being kicked out of the guys hands and you're being pulled away. Baji holds you in his arms, both of you needing that comfort while Mikey knocks the guy out. They worked together to save you and without knowing it, Mikey proved he's more then capable of keeping you safe. 

He's still a little reluctant but Baji gives you his blessing, after muttering about needing to bleach his eyes out. 

[tacitusk1llwhore]

I’ve had some time to process and dissect it, and I just want to say Kendrick’s halftime show was a masterpiece and a wonderful piece of political art.

Having a Black man play “Uncle Sam” making the Black community feel wanted and represented within their country and community but then having said “Uncle Sam” tell those same people finding comfort in him to be good, quiet, not “ghetto.” It poked at those POC that want to conform to the White man’s wants and society, the pause before Samuel L. says “Sam.” After Uncle, pointing at himself had me and my father believing for a moment he was going to say “Tom.” Which if you’re Black or biracial (hi! That’s me!) or even just well-versed on these things you will know exactly what an Uncle Tom is in regards to the Black community. It’s just what I described and just what the character was through the show. But he is presented as more outwardly patriotic than Kendrick and the others, which again, it is a caricature of what America wants Black people to be, quiet, making no fuss, complaining when someone of their community does, to get that White validation. It was genius.

The song choice, the theme of America being a game, with “wrong way.” After the first statement of “the revolution will be televised” and “game over” after Kendrick started to play louder, more fast-paced music, insinuating that when POC fight back, they are ultimately successful, but it can’t be calm or peaceful, America is not perfect and doesn’t listen until they have to. Also, singing a song about a pedophile in front of a pedophilic president is just absolute gold.

I’ve seen a lot of “it’s not that deep, it’s just a halftime show.” And it drives me crazy because it’s all from white men who have no idea about any of the symbolism in the show. Many Black and biracial people grew up with grandparents or parents that grew up in segregation, heard the stories and the warnings, but also the outcome of the movements. So no Simon….it wasn’t just a halftime show!! The “sometimes the curtains are just blue.” Will continue to spout that even if the backside of the curtains is bright red, they never investigate enough to see that. Sure, not everything has a super deep meaning, but that show certainly did. If you didn’t see it, you’re either lying to yourself or have so little media literacy that you won’t even be able to read this.

Not to mention the diversity and celebration of Black culture during opening ceremonies, amazing, beautiful, 10/10.

(Also watching Travis Kelce snd Patrick Mahomes lose after their Trump comments was just the cherry on top.)

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 26

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know

A.N: I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately life gets in the way of these things!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20 • Part 21 • Part 22 • Part 23 • Part 24 • Part 25

• ··········· • ············ •

Thanks to whatever gods were now in charge of watching your endeavors, you made your way quickly and easily through the aqueduct. A mix of Viktor’s knowledge of the place and your ability to unlock doors and create distractions meant you didn’t need to go through the rocky riverbed.

Once on the other side of the river, you both made your way silently toward the main city, and when you arrived back at the park, the sun was already low on the horizon.

Viktor paused next to the small bench you had met by that morning, scratching the back of his neck and biting on his cheek, and you frowned.

“Spit it.” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow when he looked up at you, but then his gaze drifted away.

“I have a…suggestion to give you, but I’m afraid of what you might think of me after.”

Your frown got deeper as his cheeks got redder.

“Go on.” 

“My apartment is closer to the aqueduct than the penthouse, so…” He cleared his throat. “I think it would be beneficial…and far less exhausting… if…youspendthenightatmyhouse.”

The last part of the sentence came out as fast as the hex claw laser. You got 'spend' and 'house'…ah…

…

“You don’t have to; it is completely up to you, and even if you say yes and then change your mind, you can go! And the walls are really paper-thin, so if you are worried that I do anything to you… I mean you do have magic and I'm not exactly the strongest man in Piltover…once…Jayce gently pushed me away from an experiment, and I toppled over… Embarrassing, really… Why am I telling you this?”

You blinked a couple of times. At first I'm shocked that he had actually asked you to spend time at his place, especially after the day you both had. And then at his comically dramatic rant, a smile appeared on your face as he kept going.

“Alright, sounds like a good plan.”

“Besides, your mother isn’t here yet, and you’d be alone and…wait, what?” He finally stopped to look at you.

“It’s a good idea. We’ll be able to squeeze a few more hours of sleep in and do some planning.”

Viktor started to nod slowly at first and then enthusiastically. His face opened up with a nervous but bright smile.

“You want to go get takeout at Voltaire’s? I’m sure I can convince him to get you some tart…” He announced as he passed you by, waiting for you to follow him.

“No need.” He adjusted his cane, and you could have sworn he had a little more pep in his step. “Jayce came over the other day; his mother usually makes him bring me food. I fear she thinks I can’t feed myself.”

“Eh…pastries and dessert don’t count as a balanced meal plan, Vik.” You joked, and he gave an ‘I don’t care’ type shrug. “I’m just happy you're eating.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You shifted your backpack’s straps, realizing what you had blurted out.

“Well, work…”

“I can eat and work! That is why I have two hands…” He made a gesture of screwing a bolt and grabbing something to eat.

“Wow…efficient.” He made an agreeing sound with his throat, and you laughed.

“Keep doing it! As much as people would kill for those cheekbones, gaunt wouldn’t look good on you.” You winked at him and laughed when he touched the reddening apple of his cheeks. 

Viktor joined your amusement as you both walked towards the Artist Quarters on your way to Engineering Street. 

The small apartment Viktor had inhabited was, in fact, closer to the aqueduct, between the riverbed and the Academy. Most of the people working in the Academy had housing there. Mostly because the rents were low for them and proximity. It was a step up from dorms, but not really an upgrade in luxury.

And while Engineering Street was quiet throughout the day and night, you’d even say a bit boring, the Artist Quarters were a lively and colorful place, becoming more energetic at night.

The buildings were smaller, with a maximum of 3 floors, but bright with small shops on the floor levels. Bakeries, art shops, music stores. The cobblestone streets were filled with chalk drawings on the ground, and the streetlights had string lights hanging in between them. 

The colors seemed to become brighter in these streets with the number of flowers and small trees and the strewn artists painting on the streets or people drinking and eating on the restaurant’s patio.

You passed by an art supply shop, and someone inside shouted Viktor’s name and waved at him. Viktor did the same, warmly greeting the elderly man storing a display of watercolors on a shelf, and you became curious.

“Mr. Felton sells me the pencils and chalks the council hates so much.” Viktor explained when he saw your expression.

“Have you ever tried drawing?”

“Oh no! Jayce is the artist of the two of us. He’s in charge of doing the initial designs and sketches…I’m good with a ruler, though!”

You were chuckling at his pride and confidence when he suddenly veered right and started to fish something out of his satchel. He took out a key and shoved it into the intricate front door to a beautiful blue-tiled building.

When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned back and mentioned for you to come.

Viktor, head scientist and co-creator of Hextech, did not live on Engineering Street… Viktor, the color-coding aficionado, lived in the Artists Quarters. And you knew, in your heart of hearts…in the depths of your soul…there was nothing that made more sense than this.

His never-stopping mind didn’t need the monotony of the academy-assigned living quarters. It needs the bustle and the bustle and the colors of this place. You wondered if anything would have been different if the other Viktor had had this thought.

…

The building was beautiful outside and in.

On the outside, the light blue tiled walls were decorated with white columns and stone windows. There were three floors, with the two higher ones having a small veranda on them, just big enough to have two chairs on them. The ivy that crept up on the walls broke the symmetric façade of the building, clinging to the columns and tiles like veiny tendrils of bright green. What really got your attention at first was the front door, a white wood double door with intricate carvings and colorful glass panes, finished with a beautifully curved glass canopy.

The inside of the building was just as wonderful, with pastel brown painted walls and various little plants scattered on corners; the well-used wooden floors gave the inside a cozy feeling. In the middle back of the foyer was an old, small elevator that Viktor quickly made his way to, only stopping at the metal mailboxes to see if anything had been left to him. Nothing.

When you got to the elevator, you noticed Viktor’s hand tapping on the handle of his crutch. He was biting his cheek and slightly frowning, breathing in and out deeply at points.

“Are you alright?” You asked, leaning against the cage of the elevator.

“Mmm?” You nodded to his fingers on the handle, and he stopped, clutching the handle tighter. “Sorry…I--”

“Remember when you said I could change my mind and go? The same applies to you. I can just go.” You made sure your tone wasn’t disappointed or angry or any unintentional emotion that would make him feel bad when there was absolutely nothing to feel bad about. You’d respect his decision the same way you know he’d respect yours.

“No…” he quickly interjected. “I…this is not because I don’t want you here. It is because I do. I’m afraid I may do something that will scare you off…”

“I don’t scare easily.” You want to add, ‘I once spit in the face of a god,’ but then he would start asking questions. So you just touched his hand and smiled. 

The elevator stopped with a mechanical groan, and Viktor nodded, more to himself than to you, and walked out to the second-floor foyer. He opened the door and walked inside with you close behind. However, you couldn’t make it past the door frame without gasping wide-eyed while your mind blanked.

Something about butterflies and wings came to mind, though.

The inside of his apartment was the exact same floor plan as the other dimension. A small kitchenette to the left with a window on top of the sink, and the rest was open space. The glass and wood door to the balcony was on a diagonal corner in front of the main door; next to it was a small arrangement of windows with curved lines going through them, giving them a delicate design. There was a room to the side, which you guessed was the bedroom, and another room at the end of the open space, the bathroom. It wasn’t cramped, but it was small.

You knew this floor plan like the back of your hand; you could close your eyes and go from here to the bathroom without bumping into the wall.

What changed, though, made the entire home feel different. The decorations and the colors. The lived-in details of the furniture.

The walls had been painted a deep forest green, instead of the neutral gray of the other dimension. There were decorations on the walls, diplomas, and schematics displayed proudly. The wooden floors were shiny and covered with rugs here and there.

The small table that served as a divider between the kitchen and the living space had a napkin holder and a wooden straw table mat. There were pans on top of the fridge and plates on the dish rack. There were two mugs on the sink, one of them with ‘man of progress printed on it. 

It contrasted with the table that only served to hold books, boxes, and schematics. On the other timeline, glasses and plates were stored so as not to catch dust from not being used.

The living room had three bookcases filled with trinkets, books, vinyl records, and their player. 

The books weren’t just academic, like the other apartment’s shelves, but also biographies and fantasy, architecture, and philosophy.

You could see the collector's edition of your mother’s saga neatly tucked into a shelf with small ceramic figures of the main characters in front of them. 

There were photos of him, Jayce, Sky, and even your mom and Willah. Noticeably he didn’t look particularly comfortable in any of them, but it was a stark difference from the single photo of Jayce and Viktor at the inauguration of the hexgate and the framed newspaper clipping of the hex crystal discovery. 

The couch was a light dusty pink color with decorative pillows and two folded blankets on the back of it. It was a sharp difference from the leather-bound couch with blankets thrown about and his bed pillow shoved into a corner.

Behind a clothed divider, a desk and some scientific material were completely thrown around, but the mess was enclosed there. Near a big window, you saw the single-seat, twin version of the couch your mother sent to the lab. Tucked in a nook surrounded by plants and books. 

There were shoes on the shoe rack and coats on the coat hanger. There was an open book with a cover-up on the end table near the couch. There were tea stains on the dinner table. There was a life being lived here.

As you walked around the home, with Viktor trailing in front of you explaining and adding commentary to the million new things you were finding in the familiar house, you found yourself wondering why the Viktor you knew from before couldn’t have been gifted this…why was this Viktor standing in front of you smiling and being a generally happy human while his cosmic twin coughed himself to death? It made you sad and happy and angry and relieved.

“Are you alright?” Viktor tapped your shoulder, something he had now started to use to catch your attention instead of grabbing you.

You took a deep breath and mentioned the couch, silently asking permission to sit. Quickly he nodded and grabbed some pillows to make space for you. 

When you fell onto the leathery furniture, he took the place next to you, looking concerned.

“V…I…need to--”

“Meow”

Your speech was interrupted by a long, muffled meow by the front door, accompanied by small scratches on the wood.

“Oh…No, no… I’m sorry…Give me a moment…” Viktor gave an apologetic smile and got up, while you looked on intrigued by this.

He walked towards the bathroom door and opened it and then went back to the front door and did the same. The blackest of black cats intertwined itself on Viktor's legs, giving out small greeting squeaks and purrs.

“Go. Go on. Yes, I know.” Viktor said, smiling softly at the cat, talking back to them as if he could understand. 

The scientist softly nudged the cat with his foot, making the furry critter understand the big human wanted to move.

The cat finally acknowledged you and walked slowly towards where you sat, sitting gracefully in front of you and staring. Their blue eyes looked at you, and you swore that if all of the lights in Piltover were to turn off, the cat's eyes would be the only thing beaming.

“You have a cat.” You stated more than asked.

“Eehhh…Technically, the building has a cat. She just heard me first.” He limped back towards the couch and sat down.

“What's her name?” 

“Noir…Nono for short.” 

The cat leaped to the couch and smelled the hand you gave her. After a while, she deemed you worthy of her time and pushed her head into her hand, while Viktor stroked her body.

“Nono.” You called, and she looked at you. You presented her with your name, and she meowed.

When she was sick of the attention, she jumped down and walked to the bathroom, where you heard the telltale signs of her munching on her food.

“What were you saying?”

Viktor’s face was the definition of relaxed, the concern from before being replaced with a soft gaze and smile. 

Was the need to come clean to him about his cosmic twin attempting to end the world worth him losing his peace? Would the information you were about to vomit change what he has so carefully built?

“I…think I just need to eat.” You gave him a bright smile, and he laughed quietly.

“Very well.” He got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen counter, and you followed him. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You already were, the familiar floor plan making you feel at home. You sat at the dinner table watching him open his fridge and take out some glass containers with food and place them in the oven to heat up. 

Viktor sat on a chair next to you and slowly took off his leg brace, sighing in release.

“If you want to, you can shower. I can go ask Madame Theroux, my neighbor, if she can let me borrow one of her kid's old clothes… I think she might have something that fits you.” 

“Oh no…That’s too much of a bother.”

“Nonsense.” He got up and grabbed a discarded cane that was hooked on the divider and walked towards his bedroom. 

After a while, he came out holding two fluffy towels and handed them to you. “She probably already heard I have company; might as well come clean sooner than later; otherwise she’ll be knocking on my door to snoop.”

“Sounds like a charm.” You grabbed the towels.

“She is actually. She’s very protective of us…the people in the building.” He smiled and mentioned the bathroom door. “If you could just leave the door ajar so Nono can come in and out…otherwise she will throw a tantrum.”

The black cat, now curled up on the couch, meowed at hearing her name. You nodded and walked to the bathroom while Viktor made his way to his neighbor's door.

“Oh…you can use whatever you need from there.” He opened the door and paused again. “There’s a robe on the back of the door if you need it.”

The door clicked shut, and you looked at Nono, who looked up at you and blinked slowly.

The bathroom was big, and while in the other dimension, it was just a well, normal bathroom; this one had been enhanced to help Viktor with his disability.

There were grab rails next to the slightly raised toilet and in the shower nook. All of the towel racks were sturdy enough to assist if he needed.

The floor had several thin anti-slip rugs, and the shower also had one that looked like wood. 

There was also a stool inside the shower that you assumed he would use when needed.

You and Viktor in your timeline had once talked about this, making his house accessible for when he needed it, but his answer had been dismissive. A shrug and an ‘I spend more time in the lab anyway.’ Maybe you should have insisted; maybe you should have been more enthused about making it easier for him. Maybe if you had, he would have seen you in a better light after he had gotten the news.

It frustrated you that ‘maybes’ were all you had now. Even if you went back to your dimension, those things would still be in a maybe and if pile.

You heard the door close and started your shower quickly. You heard a knock on the door.

“There is a chair outside the door, in arm's reach for you to take. Madame Theroux said she threw in some undergarments…I didn’t check.” 

“Thank you.” 

You finished the shower and grabbed the clothes. Some red cotton checkered bottoms, a matching shirt, a white undershirt, and undergarments. It looked cozy, and it did fit you perfectly. This brought up the question of how Viktor had described you to the neighbor for her to get accurate measurements.

Walking out of the bathroom intent on joking about it with him, you stopped when you saw him haul a blanket and what you assume was a pillow to the couch.

“Oh. You are done.” He smiled, grabbed some clothes from the back of the couch, and walked towards you. “I think the food will be done soon. I am going to take a shower too, and then we eat, yes?”

You were still looking at the pillow and the sheet that was already tucked into the sofa. 

“This for me?” You blurted it out before he passed you, and he shook his head.

“No. You’re my guest. You sleep on the bed.” He sounded proud of himself. “May I?”

Viktor pointed to the door of the bathroom, and you noticed you had been blocking his path. You took a step forward, and he smiled, walked inside, and pushed the door almost closed.

The ruffling of clothes snapped you out of your stupor, and you walked towards the kitchen, throwing daggers at the couch.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @kitewa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd @jazzypop-op @jojo-at-heart @deceivethedreamer

[stealvrth]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄

STARRING ... SPIDEY!J. JUNGKOOK X READER

WORD COUNT ... 9.0K

SUMMARY ... in which jungkook realises his heart is caught in your web.

NOTES/WARNINGS ... PATHETIC KOOK ALERT!! cringefail!jungkook, mostly pure fluff. unrequited(?) love if you blink. slow burn(?). unresolved crush. idk i had a lot of fun writing this tho!! not proofread, so there may be mistakes 🫣

jungkook doesn't know how to approach you.

he's seen you in passing countless times, walked your path because the two of you share the same class. he's considered saying hi, or asking if you need help with schoolwork, or literally doing anything else other than following you and staring like a creep.

the only genuine interaction the two of you have had was during freshman year when jungkook asked you to point out the lecture hall for chemistry, and you laughed and told him you were headed the same way — and just as lost as he was.

he thinks about that moment more often than he should. not because it was anything significant, but because it was the last time talking to you felt easy—effortless. before he let hesitation sink its claws into him, before he started overthinking every glance, every opportunity to speak.

now, jungkook just watches from a distance, caught somewhere between curiosity and cowardice. he wonders if you remember that day at all, if you ever think about him in passing the way he does you. probably not. he wouldn’t blame you.

still, the thought lingers. maybe tomorrow, he tells himself. maybe tomorrow he’ll say something.

jimin always makes fun of him for it, saying he’s fought villains before and yet one girl makes him shy?

“bro, you’ve literally been thrown through a building,” jimin snickers, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. “but god forbid you say hi to a girl in your chemistry class.”

jungkook rolls his eyes, staring down at his untouched burger. he doesn’t pay jimin’s teasing any mind—he never does. it’s easy for jimin to talk; he’s never had to hide a whole second life, never had to balance midterms with stopping armed robberies. he doesn’t get it.

(though, to be fair, jimin is right. jungkook has gone toe-to-toe with some of the worst criminals in the city. yet somehow, the idea of talking to you makes his palms sweat.)

“it’s not that simple,” he mutters, picking at the edge of his tray.

jimin snorts. “right, because saying ‘hey, what’s up?’ is way harder than getting launched off a bridge.”

jungkook groans, dragging a hand down his face. he doesn’t have a good rebuttal for that. mostly because jimin’s right, and he hates that.

“it’s different,” he insists, even though it really isn’t.

jimin raises an eyebrow. “how?”

jungkook opens his mouth, then closes it. then opens it again. “because—” he starts, but the words get stuck in his throat, tangled up in excuses that don’t make sense even to him.

jimin grins, sensing victory. “you’re scared of her,” he sings, dragging out the last word obnoxiously.

jungkook scowls. “i’m not scared of her.”

“you so are,” jimin laughs. “like, imagine this. you’re mid-battle, bad guy’s got you in a chokehold, and suddenly—boom! it’s her. she’s watching. do you still pull your usual show-off stunts, or do you fumble and get your ass kicked?”

jungkook doesn’t answer.

jimin gasps, slapping the table. “you’d fumble.”

“i would not.”

“you so would.”

jungkook glares at him, but it’s weak. because, again, jimin is right. jungkook has had guns pointed at his head, has dodged death more times than he can count, but somehow, the thought of you seeing him trip over his own feet is what keeps him up at night.

jimin waggles his brows. “just talk to her, dude. it’s not that deep.”

but it is. it is that deep. because talking to you is different. talking to you is real, not some masked-up alter ego that people only half-believe in. and if he messes up as spiderman, he can hide behind the suit. if he messes up as jungkook—well.

there’s no hiding from that.

jungkook stabs at his fries with unnecessary aggression. “it’s not that simple,” he mutters again, knowing full well jimin won’t let it go.

“bro, it’s literally that simple,” jimin says, leaning back in his chair like he’s exhausted by the sheer weight of jungkook’s awkwardness. “just go up to her, say—i dunno—‘hey, you dropped this’ or something, even if she didn’t. instant conversation starter.”

jungkook squints at him. “so, lie?”

“not lie,” jimin corrects, “strategically mislead. big difference.”

jungkook exhales through his nose. “you are the worst person i know.”

“and yet, i’m the only person willing to help your pathetic ass,” jimin grins, stealing one of jungkook’s fries.

jungkook should be used to this by now. the teasing, the dramatic reenactments of how he supposedly looks when he freezes up around you (jimin does this thing where he goes stiff as a board and stares blankly into space—it’s completely inaccurate, by the way). but today, it gets under his skin more than usual. maybe because he knows he’s been avoiding this for way too long.

“whatever,” jungkook grumbles, shoving jimin’s hand away from his tray. “it’s not like i have time for dating, anyway.”

jimin rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with it. “oh my god, it’s not about dating. just be normal for once. be her friend. say more than two words to her that aren’t ‘thanks’ or ‘sorry’ when you accidentally bump into her in the hallway.”

jungkook hates how easily jimin reads him. it’s not like he hasn’t considered all of this before. but the thing is—he’s not good at the whole “normal” thing. he doesn’t know how to balance both sides of his life, how to let himself want something outside of the web-slinging and late-night bruises.

because what if he lets you in, and you see everything? what if you see the real him, and you don’t like what’s underneath?

“just think about it,” jimin says, shoving back from the table and tossing his empty tray onto the pile near the trash. “but not too hard. your brain might overheat.”

“ha ha,” jungkook deadpans.

but later, when he’s walking home with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he thinks about it. he thinks about it way too hard.

today is the day. jungkook is going to do it. he’s going to walk up to you, give you his biggest award-winning smile, and he’s going to ask if you want to study together.

he’s going to do it. he’s going to do it.

he’s not going to do it.

because now you’re here—actually here, walking straight toward him, completely unaware that he’s been psyching himself up for this for the past fifteen minutes.

his heart stumbles over itself.

he keeps walking, like a normal person. normal people walk. normal people breathe. normal people don’t panic just because the girl they like is getting closer with every step.

you’re looking at your phone, scrolling absentmindedly, your brows pulling together in a way that makes jungkook wonder what you’re thinking about. your bag is slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, and you look—god, you look good. not in some over-the-top, magazine-cover way, but in the kind of way that makes his stomach feel weird and his feet feel heavier than they should.

he was not prepared for this.

his brain short-circuits. every pre-planned conversation starter he practiced disappears into the void. his feet slow down before he can stop them.

he’s close enough now that he could just say something. one word. one syllable. literally anything.

you look up.

jungkook stops breathing.

and then, like the complete disaster he is, he stops walking altogether.

which is unfortunate, because you don’t.

he realizes his mistake half a second too late, just as you get close enough that you nearly crash into him. nearly—because at the last second, you sidestep smoothly, like it’s no big deal, like you totally meant to almost collide with him just to keep things interesting.

and then you smile.

“oh! hey, jungkook!”

your voice is bright, cheery, like this is just another normal interaction between two normal classmates, not the catastrophic event jungkook’s body is currently treating it as.

his brain goes static. you said his name. you’re smiling at him. did you always smile at him like that? did the hallway lights always make you look this—

“you okay?” you ask, tilting your head. “you kinda just froze.”

jungkook blinks. Words. Say words.

“I—uh.”

good start. solid foundation.

you don’t seem fazed by his awkwardness. instead, you just grin and shift your bag higher on your shoulder. “what’s up? where are you headed?”

this is it. this is his chance. the perfect opportunity to say something cool, something casual, something that doesn’t make him sound like he’s barely holding it together.

jungkook swallows. “library.”

…right. just one word. like a total weirdo.

but somehow, you don’t seem to notice, nodding along like that was a perfectly normal response. “same! i have a psych paper due, but i was procrastinating, so now i have to power through. you too?”

jungkook should say something. something about school, or studying, or—oh, right, the reason he even stopped you in the first place.

ask her to study. ask her to study.

his mouth opens. what comes out instead is:

“you look… happy.”

he immediately wants to throw himself into the sun.

you laugh—this surprised, airy sound that makes jungkook’s chest feel tight. “thanks? i try.”

he nods. good. cool. nailed it.

(jimin is going to clown him so hard for this.)

you shift your weight, still standing in front of him like you’re actually waiting for him to contribute something meaningful to this conversation. like he’s capable of that right now.

“so,” you continue, oblivious to the fact that jungkook’s brain is actively short-circuiting, “are you studying for midterms, too? or just, like, catching up?”

this. this is his moment.

just say it, he tells himself. it’s so easy. just ask if she wants to study together. worst-case scenario, she says no, and you move on, and you never speak again, and you have to drop out of school and move to a remote island where no one knows your shame—

“yeah,” he blurts out. not an answer to your question, exactly, but something.

your smile doesn’t waver. “cool, cool.” then, as if the universe is giving him the easiest possible setup: “wanna study together?”

jungkook’s entire soul leaves his body.

because—what? what?? that was supposed to be his line. that was the whole plan. but now you’re standing there, looking at him expectantly, like this is a totally casual, no-big-deal offer.

he should say yes.

he should absolutely say yes.

“uh.”

your head tilts. “you don’t have to,” you add quickly, as if you think he’s the one who might not want your company. “i just figured, y’know, since we’re both headed there anyway…”

this is so much worse. now you’re giving him an out, and if he hesitates any longer, he’s going to look like an idiot. more than he already does.

“yeah,” he says, a little too fast. “i mean, yeah. let’s—uh. let’s do that.”

you beam, like this is the best news you’ve heard all day. “awesome! let’s go.”

then you turn, start walking, fully expecting him to follow.

and jungkook?

jungkook thinks he might actually die.

not from a supervillain attack, not from getting thrown off a building—no, it’s worse than that. he’s dying because you just asked him to study, and now he has to actually go through with it.

he forces his feet to move, catching up to your side, even though his entire body feels like it’s running on autopilot. this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. he was supposed to be the one taking the initiative, proving to himself (and to jimin, unfortunately) that he could be normal about this.

instead, he’s trailing after you like a lost puppy, barely keeping up with the conversation.

“so,” you say, tucking your phone into your bag, “what class are you studying for?”

jungkook opens his mouth—then immediately panics because he didn’t think this far ahead. he is studying, technically, but he didn’t have a specific subject in mind. his only plan was talk to you and try not to embarrass himself.

which—so far? not going great.

“uh, chemistry,” he says, because that seems like a safe bet.

you hum in acknowledgment. “oof, rough. is it that professor who hates everyone?”

“yeah,” jungkook lies, because sure. why not.

you wince sympathetically. “brutal. hope you’re not failing.”

jungkook lets out a weak laugh. hope you’re not failing. If only you knew the things he actually had to juggle on top of school. But no big deal—he can totally pretend to be a normal college student for a couple of hours.

the library comes into view, and suddenly, it hits him—he’s about to spend an actual study session with you. at the same table. breathing the same air.

“you good?” you ask, shooting him a curious glance.

jungkook clears his throat. “yeah. just—uh. mentally preparing.”

you snort. “for studying?”

“yeah.”

you shake your head, laughing. “you’re a little weird, huh?”

jungkook nearly chokes.

but you don’t say it in a bad way. you’re smiling as you say it, like you find it endearing. like it doesn’t make you want to walk away. jungkook has no idea what to do with that.

jungkook has no idea what to do with that.

his brain is still buffering by the time you step through the library doors, pushing them open with ease, like this is just another regular day for you. like you didn’t just tell him—straight to his face—that you think he’s weird.

and that you don’t seem to mind.

he follows in a daze, letting the cool, quiet atmosphere of the library settle around him. there are plenty of empty tables scattered throughout the study area, but you don’t hesitate, making a beeline for a spot near the windows. sunlight spills over the wooden surface, and you plop your bag down like you’ve claimed this space a hundred times before.

“this seat good?” you ask, pulling out a chair.

jungkook nods dumbly. “yeah. good.”

(good? what does that even mean? why does he sound like he just learned how to talk?)

you don’t seem to notice his internal struggle. instead, you pull out your laptop, sliding into the chair with the kind of ease that makes him jealous. how are you so normal about this? why does it feel like this is just a casual, no-pressure situation for you, while jungkook is actively fighting for his life?

he sits down, trying to regain control over his body. trying to focus on literally anything other than the fact that he can smell the faint scent of your shampoo from here.

(focus, he tells himself. be normal.)

you glance at him as you open your laptop. “do you need to charge anything?”

jungkook blinks. “huh?”

you gesture toward the outlet beside the table. “your laptop? phone? charger?”

right. yes. because normal people bring chargers to study sessions. normal people actually bring their school stuff.

slowly, with the painful realization that he is so unprepared for this, jungkook unzips his backpack and stares into the absolute void of nothingness inside.

no laptop. no charger. no notebook.

just… snacks. and, for some reason, an extra pair of gloves.

his stomach sinks.

you peer over curiously. “uh—did you forget your stuff?”

(lie. lie, you absolute idiot.)

“yeah,” jungkook says, forcing a laugh that does not sound normal. “guess i left it at home.”

you blink at him. then, without missing a beat, you shrug. “that’s fine! we can just share.”

his brain nearly explodes. “what?”

you gesture toward your laptop. “i mean, if you’re studying chemistry, i have my notes from last semester. we can go over them together?”

together.

as in, sitting close. looking at the same screen. existing in the same breathing space.

jungkook swallows. he is not ready for this.

but somehow, he forces his legs to move, pulling his chair closer so he can see your laptop screen. the metal legs scrape lightly against the floor, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet library, but you don’t seem to care.

you rest your elbows on the table as your laptop boots up, fingers tapping absently against the keys. “so, chemistry,” you say, glancing at him with a playful smirk. “you’re totally failing, huh?”

jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. “i mean. define failing.”

“oh my god.” you laugh, shaking your head. “yeah, okay, you definitely need this.”

your screen flashes on, illuminating your face as you navigate to your files. but jungkook isn’t looking at your notes.

because just before you click away, his eyes catch something else.

an open tab. a news article.

Spider-Man: Hero or Menace? City Officials Weigh In.

his heart jumps straight into his throat.

he doesn’t mean to react—doesn’t mean to tense up, doesn’t mean for his fingers to curl against his jeans—but it happens before he can stop it.

you don’t notice right away, too busy sorting through your documents. “i think i have an old study guide in here somewhere,” you mumble, scrolling. “oh! do you wanna—”

then you pause.

jungkook can feel the exact second you realize where his attention is.

you glance at the screen, then back at him.

“oh,” you say, blinking. “you’re a spider-man fan?”

he should lie.

he should lie, laugh it off, make some offhand comment about how everyone is at least a little curious about the city’s masked vigilante.

but his throat feels tight, and his brain is still processing the fact that you—of all people—were reading about him.

his hesitation must look weird because you tilt your head, smiling lightly. “i mean, i don’t blame you. he’s kind of cool, right?”

(kind of cool.)

jungkook swallows. “uh. yeah. i guess.”

you glance at the article again, then back at him. “i was just skimming,” you say, like you feel the need to explain yourself. “some people in class were talking about him, and i realized that i don’t actually know much about him, so—” you gesture vaguely at the screen, “—research?”

jungkook’s head is spinning. “research,” he echoes.

you nod, chin resting in your palm. “it’s kinda crazy, though. no one even knows who he is.”

he forces himself to breathe. to relax. to be normal.

“yeah,” he says, voice even. “crazy.”

you huff out a laugh. “what do you think? hero or menace?”

jungkook blinks. “what?”

you nod toward the article, eyes bright with curiosity. “the headline. do you think he’s a good guy? or is he, like, actually sketchy?”

he should say something neutral. something vague. something that won’t give him away.

but for some reason, looking at you—sitting there, genuinely wondering, genuinely curious—he can’t stop himself from asking:

“what do you think?”

you blink, surprised by the question. but you consider it, eyes flicking back to the screen as you chew on your bottom lip.

then, finally, “...i think he’s just trying his best.”

jungkook’s stomach flips.

you shrug, scrolling absently through the article. “i mean, yeah, the whole vigilante thing is kinda illegal, but—” you pause, then shake your head, like you’re struggling to find the right words. “i don’t think he’d do all this if he didn’t care, y’know? like, he doesn’t have to help people. but he does anyway.”

you turn back to jungkook, smiling softly. “so yeah. i think he’s a good guy.”

jungkook is silent.

because suddenly, sitting here, right next to you and hearing you say that—

he’s pretty sure you just turned him into an even bigger mess than he already was.

jungkook doesn’t know what to say.

he just sits there, staring at you, heartbeat in his ears, hands curled into fists beneath the table.

he’s just trying his best.

he swallows hard. you have no idea.

but you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis, already clicking away from the article, pulling up your notes like this conversation didn’t just make his brain short-circuit.

“okay, so, chemistry,” you announce, stretching your arms over your head before settling in. “i have, like, three different study guides, so take your pick.”

jungkook is still trying to remember how to function as a person.

he clears his throat, shifting in his seat, eyes flicking away from you as if that will help him not think about what you just said. “uh. yeah. sure.”

you hum, scrolling through your files. “oh, also—before i forget.”

he glances up. “huh?”

you flash him a grin. “you should totally tell me your opinion on spider-man sometime.”

jungkook chokes.

he should’ve seen that coming.

his reaction is immediate—too immediate, too obvious, and you blink at him like you weren’t expecting that much of a response.

he forces himself to play it off, coughing into his fist. “uh—why?”

you tilt your head, amused. “you just seemed interested, that’s all.”

interested? yeah, that’s one way to put it.

you shrug, tapping at your keyboard. “not now, though. we’re totally studying. no distractions.”

(no distractions. funny.)

jungkook nods, gripping his pencil a little too tightly. “right. studying.”

but as you start explaining your notes, flipping through equations and diagrams, jungkook isn’t paying attention.

because all he can think about is the way you looked when you said it.

like it was obvious.

like you didn’t even have to think twice.

"i think he’s a good guy."

yeah.

he’s so not ready for this.

the next time jungkook sees you, he’s in the suit.

he doesn’t expect to find you all the way across town, so far from campus—especially not here, where the streets are rough and the people are meaner. and he definitely doesn’t expect to see you sprinting full-speed down the sidewalk.

his stomach drops. and then he sees why.

before he can think, before he can second-guess, his body moves on instinct.

jungkook swings down without hesitation, landing hard on the pavement just a few feet ahead of you. the second you see him, you skid to a stop, sneakers screeching against the concrete.

“whoa—” you breathe, wide-eyed, chest rising and falling from the sprint.

but jungkook isn’t looking at you. his focus is already behind you, on the two men barreling toward you from the other end of the street.

he doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate.

his web shoots out before they can get any closer, yanking the first guy clean off his feet and sending him crashing into a lamppost. the second guy isn’t any smarter—he reaches for something in his jacket, but jungkook is faster, spinning and kicking the guy square in the chest before he even has a chance to react.

it’s over in seconds. too easy.

but the part jungkook wasn’t prepared for—the part making his heart pound harder than the fight itself—is you.

because when he finally turns back around, you’re still standing there, staring at him like you’ve just seen a ghost.

he swallows. he should leave. he should web them up, say something cool, and leave.

instead, he says, “you good?”

you blink at him. your breathing is still uneven, adrenaline still high, but... you smile.

“yeah,” you say, nodding. “that was… really cool.”

jungkook has been shot at before. he has been punched through windows, thrown into walls, nearly crushed by collapsing buildings. but somehow, this—you, standing there, grinning at him, eyes bright—is what almost knocks him on his ass.

he clears his throat, trying to regain control of his entire existence. “uh. yeah. just—y’know. doing my job.”

you huff a laugh. “well, thanks for that.”

(you’re thanking him. you’re actually thanking him.)

jungkook knows he should leave. he knows this.

but instead, his eyes flick to your bag, then back up to your face.

“what are you even doing here?” he blurts.

you blink, surprised by the question. “uh. getting very nearly robbed, apparently.”

jungkook exhales sharply. great. real smooth.

you shake your head, adjusting your strap. “i was just picking something up for my friend. obviously didn’t think that one through.”

jungkook doesn’t say anything, just clenches his fists at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been here. if he hadn’t been on this side of town tonight.

“seriously, though,” you continue, tilting your head at him. “you okay?”

jungkook freezes. “what?”

“you just… looked kinda tense for a second.”

his brain short-circuits. because what kind of person almost gets mugged and then asks if their rescuer is okay?

he shakes his head, stepping back, forcing himself to get it together. “yeah. i’m good.”

you don’t look convinced. but you nod anyway, shifting on your feet.

“…guess this is where you do the whole mysterious-hero thing and disappear, huh?” you joke lightly.

jungkook should.

he needs to.

but he hesitates.

because for the first time, standing here, watching you look at him like this, he wonders. if he took off the mask right now...

would you still look at him the same way?

jungkook needs to leave. he should web up the guys groaning on the pavement, throw out a quick “stay safe,” and disappear into the night like he always does.

but he doesn’t.

because you’re still looking at him. really looking at him. and for some reason, that makes it impossible to move.

he swallows, gripping his fingers into fists at his sides. don’t be stupid. don’t linger. don’t let yourself wonder.

his fingers twitch.

he almost—almost—reaches up.

but then you sigh, shaking your head with a small, amused smile. “well, thanks again, spider-man,” you say, rocking back on your heels. “i should probably get going before more weirdos show up.”

just like that, the moment shatters.

jungkook blinks, the weight of reality crashing back in.

right. spider-man.

not jungkook. not a guy who shares your chemistry class, who has spent so much time psyching himself up just to talk to you like a normal person.

just a masked stranger you’ll forget about by morning.

he exhales, finally forcing himself to take a step back. “yeah,” he mutters. “probably a good idea.”

you nod, gripping the strap of your bag. “guess i’ll see you around?”

jungkook hesitates. he shouldn’t answer that. he shouldn’t make promises. but then—because he’s apparently the biggest idiot alive—he hears himself say,

“yeah.”

your lips twitch, eyes flicking over him one last time. and then, without another word, you turn and walk away.

jungkook watches you go, his chest tight, his heart pounding like he just walked out of a fight.

and that—the way he feels right now, standing frozen in the middle of the street, watching you disappear around the corner—is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced.

after that first time, jungkook just keeps running into you.

you’ve been caught up in a gas station robbery. your train got derailed. been a victim in three separate mugging attempts.

either you’re trying to manifest him showing up, or you might actually be the unluckiest person jungkook has ever met.

and the worst part?

you don’t even seem bothered.

the first couple of times, sure—you were a little shaken up, a little breathless, wide-eyed and gripping your bag like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. but by the fourth time he drops out of the sky to save you, you barely even flinch.

“oh,” you say, blinking up at him as he lands in front of you, cutting off yet another guy who thought it would be a great idea to corner you in an alley. “you again.”

jungkook stares. you again?

he webs the guy’s wrist before he can bolt, yanking him forward just enough to knock him out cold with one clean punch. then, once the guy is down and sufficiently tied up, he turns back to you. arms crossed. head tilted.

“...okay,” he says slowly. “you have got to be doing this on purpose.”

you snort, shaking your head as you adjust your bag strap. “oh, totally. i go wandering through crime-infested areas just hoping you’ll show up.”

he points at you. “see? that’s exactly what someone who’s doing this on purpose would say.”

you just roll your eyes, amused. “do you think i want to be constantly in danger?”

jungkook narrows his eyes. “...i don’t know. do you?”

you laugh—actually laugh—and something about the sound makes his stomach do something weird and annoying.

“trust me, spider-man,” you say, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “if i had it my way, you and i would never be seeing each other again.”

for some reason, that makes his chest tighten. he should let it go. he should web this guy to a fire escape for the cops to find and leave. but instead, he hears himself saying, “what were you doing here, anyway?”

you blink. “going home?”

“through an alley?”

“it’s a shortcut.”

jungkook throws up his hands. “it’s also where people get mugged!”

you squint at him like he’s being dramatic. “not all the time.”

jungkook lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “oh my god.”

you snicker. “relax. i’ll take the long way next time, okay?”

he doesn’t believe you. not even a little bit. but he can’t exactly force you to change your entire route home.

he exhales, shaking his head. “if you say so.”

you smirk, tilting your head. “aww, do you worry about me, spider-man?”

jungkook nearly chokes.

“what— no. no, i—” he shakes his head aggressively, backing up like that will help him recover. “i worry about the crime rate.”

you nod, way too entertained. “right. of course.”

he glares. “i do.”

“sure, sure.”

he groans, already regretting everything about this conversation.

and then—because he really needs to get out of here before he embarrasses himself any further—he steps back, flexing his fingers before shooting out a web.

but just before he swings away, he hears you call out:

“see you next time, spider-man.”

he freezes.

because that almost sounded like a promise.

“dude.”

jungkook sighs. “no.”

“dude.”

“jimin, no.”

“duuuude.” jimin is vibrating in his seat, practically buzzing with excitement as he leans across the cafeteria table. “you know what this means, right?”

jungkook takes an aggressive bite of his sandwich, staring him down. “that i have terrible luck?”

jimin gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like jungkook just personally offended him. “terrible luck? bro, are you hearing yourself? this isn’t bad luck—this is literally fate.”

jungkook makes a face. “it’s really not.”

“okay, so let’s go over this one more time,” jimin says, ignoring him entirely. he starts ticking off on his fingers. “you meet this girl in class. you like her. but you’re too much of a coward to do anything about it—”

jungkook glares. “thanks.”

“—and then, suddenly, the universe just keeps throwing her in your path. over and over and over again. and not just in normal, everyday ways—no, no, no. she gets into highly dangerous situations that just so happen to require your heroic intervention.”

he wiggles his fingers dramatically. “it’s like magic.”

jungkook takes another bite, chewing slowly. “or, and hear me out—maybe she just has bad luck.”

“bad luck doesn’t land you in the same masked superhero’s path five different times,” jimin says, slapping his hand on the table. “this is literally the plot of, like, half the romcoms i’ve ever seen.”

jungkook groans, dropping his head onto the table.

“you’re actually insane,” he mumbles into his arms.

“insanely right,” jimin corrects, grinning.

jungkook lifts his head just enough to squint at him. “you’re telling me that if you got randomly mugged three times in the span of a month, you’d consider it romantic?”

jimin shrugs. “depends on who’s saving me.”

jungkook groans again, slumping further into the table.

jimin, unbothered, just leans in closer. “look, bro, all i’m saying is—you clearly have some cosmic connection to this girl. so use it.”

“use it?” jungkook repeats, deadpan.

“yes. as in, maybe instead of waiting for her next near-death experience, you actually talk to her for real.”

jungkook scowls. “i have talked to her.”

jimin makes a face. “you’ve talked to her as spider-man. that doesn’t count.”

jungkook hesitates.

because… yeah. he has technically talked to you. but barely as himself. hardly without the mask. and the worst part?

he kind of likes it that way.

because spider-man isn’t awkward. spider-man doesn’t trip over his words, or overthink every interaction, or panic every time you smile at him.

spider-man is confident. quick. easy.

but jungkook? jungkook is an absolute mess.

he presses his lips together, staring down at what’s left of his sandwich.

jimin watches him, expression shifting slightly. “look,” he says, voice a little softer now. “you don’t have to do anything. but… don’t you think it’s a little crazy that she keeps showing up in your life like this?”

jungkook doesn’t answer.

because yeah.

it is crazy.

but what’s even crazier is the way he already knows this isn’t the last time it’ll happen.

jimin squints at him. “wait, hold on.”

jungkook braces himself, because he knows that look. that’s the i’m about to make your life hell look.

“didn’t you guys, like… study together once?” jimin asks, tilting his head.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably. “uh. yeah.”

jimin slaps the table. “exactly. so that means you already had an in.”

jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple. “what’s your point?”

“my point is,” jimin says, voice heavy with dramatic exasperation, “you had a perfectly normal, non-life-threatening interaction with her before all of this. meaning, you had every opportunity to follow up—y’know, send a text, sit next to her in class, act like a human being.”

jungkook stares at his sandwich, avoiding eye contact.

jimin’s grin sharpens. “...so?”

jungkook exhales, slumping back in his seat. “i, uh… didn’t actually talk to her again,” he mutters.

jimin blinks. “after studying?”

jungkook nods, already regretting admitting anything.

jimin’s jaw drops. “not once?”

jungkook shrugs helplessly. “i was gonna, but then—”

jimin points an accusatory finger at him. “but then you saved her as spider-man and decided that totally counted as interacting with her, didn’t you?”

jungkook opens his mouth. closes it. scratches the back of his neck.

jimin gasps.

“oh my god,” he says, full-body flopping back in his chair. “you absolute loser.”

jungkook groans. “i know.”

“no, you don’t know, because if you did know, you would have done something about it.”

jungkook buries his face in his hands.

“i tried, okay? but it’s—” he groans, dragging his hands down his face, “—it’s just easier this way.”

jimin levels him with the flattest look imaginable.

“easier?” he repeats. “easier how?”

jungkook hesitates. because if he says it out loud, then it’s real. but jimin is staring at him, waiting, and—well.

he’s already lost his dignity at this point.

“…spider-man is cool,” jungkook mutters finally, eyes glued to the table. “spider-man doesn’t get nervous, or embarrass himself, or say dumb shit and then want to throw himself off a building.”

jimin snorts. “oh, buddy. that’s cute. you think you haven’t embarrassed yourself?”

jungkook glares. “shut up.”

jimin is grinning now, full and unrestrained. “bro. do you realize how weird you probably sound to her? imagine getting rescued by the same guy five times in a row and every time he acts progressively more awkward about it.”

jungkook groans. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” jimin says, smug.

jungkook drops his head onto the table again. because, unfortunately, he’s right.

jungkook groans into the table. “okay. fine. let’s say you’re right—”

“i am right.”

“—and i have been weird about it—”

“super weird.”

jungkook lifts his head just enough to glare. “jimin.”

jimin grins, unrepentant. “continue.”

jungkook exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. “whatever. what am i even supposed to do now? just waltz up to her in class and pretend i haven’t been awkwardly saving her from disaster every other week?”

jimin shrugs. “yeah.”

jungkook stares. “you cannot be serious.”

“why not?” jimin says, stealing a fry off jungkook’s plate. “you already know she’s cool. she doesn’t freak out around you, she doesn’t think spider-man’s a menace, and she definitely isn’t scared of you—”

jungkook scoffs. “yeah, because she doesn’t know it’s me.”

jimin points at him with the stolen fry. “exactly! you have nothing to lose!”

jungkook squints. “that’s not how that works.”

jimin waves him off. “look, bro. i love you. i do. but you overthink literally everything.”

jungkook frowns. “i do not.”

jimin gives him a look so flat it could be legally classified as a murder weapon.

jungkook shifts. “…okay, sometimes.”

jimin nods approvingly. “glad we’re on the same page.” he shoves the fry into his mouth before pointing at jungkook again. “so, let’s think about this logically.”

jungkook groans. “oh, now we’re thinking logically?”

jimin ignores him. “you already know she likes talking to spider-man. you’ve literally heard her say she thinks he’s a good guy. and you also know she was cool with studying with you before you started avoiding her like a total dumbass.”

jungkook winces. “ouch.”

jimin grins. “so, what does that tell us?”

jungkook crosses his arms, scowling. “that i’m a dumbass?”

“correct. but more importantly,” jimin leans forward, voice going annoyingly dramatic, “it means you’re already in.”

jungkook blinks. “what?”

jimin gestures vaguely. “she already likes you. not just spider-man, but you-you. maybe she doesn’t have a crush or anything—”

jungkook’s face burns at the mere mention of the possibility. “dude—”

“—but at the very least, she doesn’t hate you,” jimin finishes, undeterred. “so, all you have to do is act normal for once in your life, and maybe—maybe—you can stop making things harder than they need to be.”

jungkook stares at him.

jimin stares back.

“…that’s it?” jungkook asks, skeptical.

jimin shrugs. “that’s it.”

jungkook exhales.

because—okay. maybe it does make sense. maybe he is overcomplicating things, like he always does. maybe he really is just making his life ten times harder for no reason.

but then he thinks about actually doing it—about sitting down next to you again, about saying hey like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t been a complete coward for weeks.

and suddenly, he’s panicking all over again.

“…okay,” he mutters. “sure. i’ll talk to her.”

jimin beams. “hell yeah.”

“eventually.”

jimin’s smile drops. “no.”

“yes.”

“jungkook—”

jungkook shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and stands up. “gotta go, bye.”

“jungkook, don’t you dare walk away from me—”

but jungkook is already halfway across the cafeteria, ignoring the way jimin’s voice follows him, loud and accusing.

because, yeah.

maybe he’ll talk to you.

but eventually sounds a hell of a lot safer than right now.

it turns out you end up talking to him first.

jungkook barely has time to process the end of the lecture before you’re suddenly there, standing next to his desk, shifting on your feet like you’re nervous about something.

which is weird.

because you’re never nervous. not when you were nearly mugged, not when a guy pulled a knife on you, not when you looked spider-man in the eye and grinned at him like it was just another Tuesday.

but now, standing here, looking at him?

you’re fidgeting.

and jungkook’s brain immediately starts malfunctioning.

“hey,” you say, voice a little softer than usual.

jungkook stares.

then, realizing that yes, this is real, he forces himself to swallow the dumb why are you talking to me that nearly slips out.

“uh. hey,” he says instead.

you shift your bag higher on your shoulder. “so, um.” you clear your throat, glancing around the emptying lecture hall. “this might be kind of random, but… do you, uh. know anyone who tutors?”

jungkook blinks. “tutors?”

you nod, still looking strangely hesitant. “yeah. for chemistry.”

chemistry.

the subject he lied about needing help with.

jungkook can feel the irony punching him directly in the face.

but beyond that, beyond the fact that he is absolutely not qualified to help you with this, there’s something else creeping into his mind.

the fact that you came to him.

out of everyone in this class—hell, out of everyone on campus—you chose to ask him.

his stomach flips.

it has to be fate, right? this is too much of a coincidence. after all the near-misses, after all the nights he spent convincing himself to just talk to you already—you end up coming to him first?

it doesn’t feel real.

but you’re still standing there, watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

jungkook swallows. “uh. yeah. i mean, i—” he clears his throat, scrambling to make his voice sound normal. “i can ask around.”

your shoulders drop a little, like you were bracing for rejection. “oh. cool. yeah, that would be great.”

you pause, glancing at him, hesitant. “and, um… if you hear of anyone good, could you maybe… let me know?”

jungkook nods so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “yeah. of course.”

your lips curve into a soft smile. “thanks, jungkook.”

his breath stutters.

(oh, he is so screwed.)

and then, just like that, you wave and disappear out the door, leaving him sitting there in the empty lecture hall, gripping his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

he doesn’t move for a solid minute.

his heart is still hammering, his brain is still catching up, and all he can think is jimin is going to have a field day with this.

and jimin fucking does.

“you’re actually kidding me.”

jimin is staring at jungkook like he just confessed to being an alien.

they’re in jungkook’s apartment, controllers in hand, some game running on the screen—but jimin has completely forgotten about it, pausing mid-match to turn and gawk at him.

jungkook, on the other hand, is doing his best to act normal. which is hard, considering his entire life has just been flipped upside down.

“i’m not kidding,” jungkook mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “it happened.”

jimin lets out a loud, incredulous laugh, tossing his controller onto the couch. “so let me get this straight. you—who have been avoiding this girl like she’s an actual fire hazard—you were literally just sitting there, minding your own business, and she just walks up to you? and asks for a tutor??”

jungkook grits his teeth. “yes.”

jimin cackles, grabbing a pillow and whacking him over the head with it.

“bro, fate is spoon-feeding you a love story and you’re just sitting there like a fucking brick!”

jungkook groans, shoving the pillow away. “okay, first of all, relax. it’s not a love story.”

jimin scoffs. “it could be.”

“it’s not.”

“it could be.”

jungkook sighs aggressively, running a hand down his face.

jimin flops dramatically against the couch, shaking his head. “so? what did you say?”

“i said i’d ask around.”

jimin blinks. “you said you’d—” he stops, eyes narrowing. “...ask around.”

jungkook shifts. “…yes?”

silence.

“you idiot!” jimin yells, smacking his arm.

“ow!” jungkook jerks away, scowling. “what? what was i supposed to say?”

“literally that you could tutor her yourself!”

jungkook’s stomach flips. “i can’t tutor her, dumbass, i'm barely passing chemistry myself.”

jimin throws up his hands. “bro, she doesn’t know that! just pretend!”

“pretend?”

“yes! look up some notes, re-learn a few things, do what you need to do!”

jungkook shakes his head aggressively. “no way. i am not tutoring her when i don’t know shit.”

jimin levels him with a deadpan stare. “so instead, you’re just gonna, what? let her go find some other guy to tutor her?”

jungkook freezes.

jimin grins. “ah.”

jungkook clenches his jaw. “fuck you.”

“no, no, let’s think about this,” jimin continues, voice full of fake contemplation. “some dude, sitting real close, explaining things all smart and helpful. maybe he’s got nice hands. maybe he’s charming. maybe he’s better at chemistry than you—”

jungkook throws a pillow at his face.

jimin laughs as he catches it. “so? what’s the move, lover boy?”

jungkook scowls, but deep down, he already knows.

he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch.

“…i’m gonna have to tutor her, aren’t i?”

jimin claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him with excitement.

“yes, you absolutely are.”

jungkook hasn’t seen you in days.

which is weird, because ever since this whole thing started, you’ve been everywhere. in class, in study sessions, in the middle of very questionable situations that require his immediate intervention.

but now?

now, you’ve just vanished.

he’s checked the usual places—your usual seat in lecture, the library, even the coffee shop on the corner where he thinks he saw you once. nothing. no sign of you anywhere.

he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

(yes, he does.)

but he pushes it out of his mind. or at least, he tries.

because right now, he’s got other things to focus on—like swinging through the city at just the right angle to catch the breeze, flipping effortlessly between buildings, scanning the streets for trouble.

except there is no trouble. not tonight. it’s weird. quiet. almost peaceful.

and then he sees you.

not running. not being chased. not clutching your bag like your life depends on it.

just… standing there.

paintbrush in hand, clothes speckled with color, entirely focused on the massive mural in front of you.

jungkook nearly crashes into a building.

he just barely manages to recover, swinging onto a rooftop ledge, crouching down to watch from a safe distance.

because what the hell?

you’re supposed to be in a classroom. or getting into some ridiculous situation that requires his immediate assistance. not this. not standing in the middle of an empty lot, surrounded by paint cans, filling an entire wall with streaks of blue and gold.

you look… calm.

you step back, tilting your head at your work, lips pursed in thought. then, with a small nod, you dip your brush into another color and go right back to it.

jungkook stares.

because somehow, in all this time, in all the chaotic ways he’s seen you before—he’s never seen you like this.

focused. steady. completely lost in something you love.

he exhales, watching the way the city lights catch in your hair, the way your brows pinch slightly when you concentrate.

for once, he doesn’t have to worry about saving you.

for once, he just gets to watch.

before he can help himself, jungkook is swinging down.

it’s instinct, like muscle memory—one second, he’s crouched on the ledge, watching from a safe distance, and the next, he’s mid-air, descending toward you before his brain can even catch up.

he lands a few feet away, boots hitting the pavement with a soft thud.

you don’t even flinch.

just glance over your shoulder, brush still poised against the wall, and say “hey, spider-man.”

jungkook freezes.

because—what?

no startled jump, no wide-eyed what the fuck?, no immediate questioning of why a masked vigilante just casually dropped into your art session. just… hey, spider-man. like he’s some guy from your lecture hall, like you expected him to show up.

his brain malfunctions. “uh.”

you smirk, finally lowering your brush. “you always this quiet?”

jungkook clears his throat, scrambling to pull himself together. “uh—no, just… wasn’t expecting you to be so—” he gestures vaguely, “—chill about this.”

you tilt your head. “should i not be?”

“i mean, most people don’t just greet me like i’m their next-door neighbor.”

you hum, considering. “well, most people don’t run into you five times in a row, either.”

jungkook exhales sharply. “true.”

you grin, then turn back to your mural, wiping your hands against your paint-stained hoodie. “so,” you say, glancing at him. “what brings you here? crime’s looking pretty low tonight.”

jungkook falters.

because yeah. crime is low. there was literally no reason for him to come down here. he just saw you. and… well.

you smile knowingly, like you can see the wheels turning in his head. “you were watching me, weren’t you?”

jungkook chokes.

“what— no. no, i—” he shakes his head aggressively, backing up like that will help him recover. “i was patrolling.”

you arch a brow. “patrolling from a rooftop directly above me?”

he groans. “oh my god.”

you laugh, bright and easy, and jungkook swears his entire world tilts for a second. “relax,” you say, dipping your brush into a new color. “it’s kind of flattering, actually.”

jungkook short-circuits. “it’s what?”

you just wink. “so, you sticking around, or was this just a quick check-in?”

jungkook should leave.

he knows that.

but then you turn back to your mural, completely at ease, completely unbothered by the fact that you’re casually talking to spider-man like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

and jungkook, against all logic, against all common sense, sits down on the curb.

“guess i’ll stick around.”

you glance over when you hear him sit, eyebrows raising slightly. but you don’t question it, don’t make it weird. just hum, like this is normal, like masked vigilantes dropping into your painting sessions is a completely regular thing.

jungkook doesn’t know what to do with that.

you dip your brush into another color, dragging long, confident strokes across the wall.

for a while, neither of you speak.

it’s… oddly comfortable.

jungkook watches, elbows resting on his knees, head tilted as he tries to figure out what you’re painting. it’s not quite clear yet, but the colors blend together in a way that makes his chest feel weirdly tight. like something about it is important.

finally, he clears his throat.

“so… what is it?”

you pause, glancing at him before looking back at the wall. “not sure yet.”

jungkook squints. “you’re not sure?”

you smirk. “it’s a process.”

he huffs a soft laugh. “so you’re just winging it?”

“more like… feeling it out,” you correct. you step back, tilting your head, eyes scanning over the patterns of color like you’re looking for something only you can see.

jungkook doesn’t know why, but that makes sense.

for a while, he doesn’t say anything else. just watches as you paint, as your hands move with purpose, as you fill the blank spaces with something real.

and then, before he can stop himself, “why do you do it?”

you pause, brush still hovering over the wall.

jungkook feels his stomach drop. “uh—you don’t have to answer that, i was just—”

“because it’s mine.”

he stops.

you’re still looking at the mural, voice calm, steady. “it’s something i can make real. something i can create, and leave behind, and know it’s mine. even if someone paints over it later.”

jungkook stares at you.

because, for some reason, that hits him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. just watches as you pick up where you left off, like you didn’t just shake something loose in his chest. and that’s when it hits him. this is the first time he’s ever spent time with you without worrying about saving you. the first time he’s seen you just be.

and it’s terrifying.

because suddenly, jungkook isn’t sure what scares him more.

the thought of you getting hurt again, or the thought of you never looking at him the way you look at spider-man right now.

jungkook hates this. hates the way his stomach twists every time you look at him—at spider-man—like this. open, unguarded, like you trust him. like he’s someone worth trusting. hates the way he wants you to keep looking at him like that.

because he knows this isn’t real. or at least, not fully real. not like it would be if it were him sitting here beside you, mask off, just jungkook.

(but would you even talk to him if you knew?)

he exhales slowly, pressing his palms against his knees. you don’t seem to notice his internal crisis, still completely focused on your painting, eyebrows furrowed just slightly in concentration.

“you’re staring,” you say after a moment, not looking away from the wall.

jungkook jolts. “what? no, i’m not.”

you smirk, finally glancing at him. “you totally are.”

he crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “you want me to lie?”

“i want you to at least try to be subtle about it.”

he scoffs. “okay, and what exactly am i supposed to be staring at? the back of your head?”

“or my art.” you gesture to the mural dramatically. “y’know, the thing that’s actually interesting here.”

jungkook huffs a quiet laugh. “yeah, okay. so what’s it supposed to be now?”

you step back, surveying your work. “dunno.”

he stares. “so you still don’t know?”

you shrug. “told you. it’s a process.”

jungkook exhales, shaking his head. “yeah, well. not every process ends up making sense.”

“maybe not right away,” you say, glancing at him. “but eventually.”

eventually.

the word sticks in his head, clinging to something deeper, something he doesn’t want to think about right now.

so instead, he sighs, shifting to stand. “well, don’t get mugged while you’re doing your whole process thing.”

you grin. “what, no more rooftop patrols?”

“depends,” he says, adjusting his gloves. “you planning on wandering into any more dark alleys?”

you pretend to think about it. “maybe. depends on the shortcut.”

jungkook groans. “i hate you.”

you just laugh, waving your brush at him in a mock salute. “see you next time, spider-man.”

jungkook’s fingers twitch.

he should leave. but instead, he lingers—just for a second. because for the first time, he knows something you don’t. he knows he’ll see you again. not just like this, not just as spider-man, but as himself.

because eventually isn’t good enough anymore.

[maretinelli]

FAILED MEETING

Ollie Bearman X fem!reader

Summary: Where the four times Ollie helped Y/n get over her failed dates, but on the fifth, she realizes that what she was looking for was right there in front of her the whole time.

Words: 3.5K+

Warnings: Best friends since childhood to lovers and Ollie being really cute with Y/n, Mention of college reader, mention of alcoholic beverages, a part where Y/n is a little drunk but it's funny, Ollie taking care of her, and mentions of meeting other guys, happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

1st Failed Meeting.

Y/n was there, sitting at the table, trying to focus on the words coming out of the mouth of the man in front of her. He seemed to be very outgoing, wanting to show off everything he had achieved, his travels, his projects, his successes.

At first, Y/n thought he was just a bubbly person who liked to share stories about himself. She tried to stay interested by smiling and nodding, but as time went on, she began to realize that he wasn't the least bit interested in hearing about her.

Every time she started to speak, he interrupted her, going back to his own conquests.

"I, of course, have already been to Paris, as I said. And when I got there, everyone was impressed with my work." He said, not noticing the look of frustration that formed in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n started to feel invisible, like she was an accessory in his conversation, not someone he really wanted to talk to. She looked at her watch, feeling like she needed to get out of there.

It was impossible to stay there.

"I... I think I have to go. I have an appointment that just came up." Y/n said, standing up quickly.

"But... are you serious? Already?" He looked at her with a look of surprise, still trying to grasp what was happening.

"Yeah, I'm really late." Y/n replied, forcing a smile. "I'll pay my share at the counter."

She grabbed her bag and stood up, leaving the table before he had time to react. When she left the restaurant, she quickly grabbed her phone and texted Ollie.

'S.O.S. I need rescue.'

'I'm on 5th Avenue, Italian restaurant ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ"

Minutes later, Ollie appeared. She smiled in relief when she saw him. He had a curious smile on his face, but his expression soon softened.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" Ollie asked, laughing as she got into the car.

Y/n sighed, giving a wry smile. "You have no idea. The guy is... THE GUY ONLY TALKS ABOUT HIMSELF, Ollie. He's a narcissist! He interrupted me every time I tried to talk about myself. I couldn't even tell him I like coffee with milk without him starting to talk about the last time he had coffee at a fancy restaurant."

Ollie laughed out loud, amusement evident on his face. "So how was he feeling, being the only interesting human being in the conversation?"

"He was loving it! I have no words, Ollie."

He laughed again. "I knew it was going to be a disaster. He seemed pretty perfect at first, didn't he?" Ollie starts driving.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'perfect'... Except not. He has no idea how to be a person."

Ollie glanced at her, the amused expression still on his face. "Do you want to come over to my apartment? I ordered a pizza a few minutes ago and it should be here soon. Maybe you'll be able to forget about the whole disaster."

Y/n smiled at the offer. "That sounds perfect."

As he drove, the two felt comfortable with each other. They had been friends for so many years, and she felt that, through it all, Ollie had always been there for her, more than anyone else.

Since childhood, the two had exchanged confidences, and Y/n, although she knew how much she cared for him, still didn't have the courage to say how sorry she was. Ollie, on the other hand, had always had the same feeling, but was afraid to confess and risk their friendship.

They arrived at Ollie's apartment, and he began to talk about the training he had done that day. "It was intense. I'm really excited to get back on the track. I hope the car can handle the changes. I need more practice time."

Y/n listened to him attentively, enjoying seeing him so excited, her smile widening as she felt the comfortable atmosphere around her.

She took off her heels and placed them near the door, next to Ollie's sneakers. It was like she was home.

Ollie walked over to the intercom to answer the pizza, and then turned to Y/n, a soft look in his eyes. "I have some comfortable clothes here if you want. You can grab something from my closet."

Y/n looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. You're probably bothered by that skirt and tights, aren't you?"

Y/n smiled and walked closer to him. "You know me very well." She hugged him affectionately, placing her head on his shoulder, and then placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck, which made her smile shyly. "Thank you, Ollie."

Ollie was quiet for a moment, feeling the softness of her touch, but he smiled. "I'll get the pizza downstairs. Make yourself at home."

Y/n watched him walk away, the heat from their interaction still in her body as the feeling she had always had for him intensified, something she could no longer ignore.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

2nd Failed Meeting.

The date seemed promising at first. Y/n and the guy had agreed on something simple: to go out for ice cream in the afternoon. The weather was cold, but nothing a milkshake couldn't make up for. At first, she thought it would be a pleasant afternoon.

But she soon realized she was wrong.

He spent most of his time looking at his phone, laughing at messages and occasionally commenting on other girls. He talked about how his ex was still trying to get back together with him, how a college friend of his was 'too hot' and how a girl he met on Instagram seemed 'too nice'.

At no point did he ask anything about Y/n. Not about her day, not about what she liked, nothing.

Then he got a message and laughed out loud. "Oh my god, look at this!" He said, but didn't bother showing it to Y/n.

It was there that she realized he really didn't want to be there.

Y/n just sighed and decided it wasn't worth wasting any more time. She stood up, grabbed her bag and said without hesitation, "I need to go. My parents are going out and they need the car."

The guy barely looked up from his phone. "Oh, no problem. We'll talk later."

She rolled her eyes, grabbed the untouched milkshake, and walked out of the fancy ice cream shop.

Getting into the car, he took out his cell phone and sent a message to Ollie.

'Meet me in the park near Big Ben?'

The answer came within seconds.

'I'll be there in a few minutes. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)'

Y/n started the car and drove to the meeting point. On the way, she laughed to herself, remembering the absurd things he had said.

"Thank God I got out."

As she reached the park, the chilly London wind blew her hair away. She leaned against the railing, looking out at Big Ben and the bridge. The biting cold called for a thick coat, and Y/n was wearing a cozy sweater and scarf, but she still felt the wind blowing against her face.

That's when he felt a hand land gently on his shoulder.

"How many minutes did you last this time?" Ollie asked, leaning against the railing beside her, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Long enough to hear him talk about other girls like I was one of his friends."

Ollie's eyes widened in disbelief. "No kidding."

"I swear! He spent the whole time on his phone and laughing at the messages he received. Oh, and he even told me, all excited, that his ex still isn't over him."

Ollie laughed out loud. "Was this a date or a therapy session for him?"

"I should have charged for that." Y/n laughed along.

Ollie watched her, enchanted without even realizing it. The sparkle in her eyes as she spoke, the way the wind made her hair dance in the air, the way she wrinkled her nose every time she talked about the idiot she had gone out with.

Everything about her seemed perfect to him. It always had.

She noticed his gaze and smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Ollie said, quickly looking away at the view of the river. "I'm just trying to understand how someone sets you up on a date and then decides to ignore you."

Y/n laughed, tossing her hair back. "Yeah, I wanted to understand too."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You know, maybe it's your fault."

"Mine?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Yes. You always attract the most bizarre cases. I think you have a special talent for it."

Y/n pushed him lightly, laughing. "Funny."

Ollie pointed to the cup in his hand. "What's up? Did you buy a milkshake to drown your sorrows?"

She lifted her nearly full glass and sighed dramatically. "Yes. My great consolation after the worst date of my life."

"Well, at least the milkshake didn't ignore you to talk about his ex." Ollie joked.

Y/n laughed again, feeling her heart warm with his presence. With Ollie, everything was different. Everything was light, fun, safe. She knew, deep down, that no date would work out because no guy would be like him.

But confessing it? That was the real challenge.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

3rd Failed Meeting

From the beginning, Y/n could tell something was wrong.

The guy didn't just seem excited, he was scary. Before they even had their first drink, he was already talking about marriage, kids, and how they were 'made for each other'.

Y/n listened to everything with wide eyes, trying to understand why he was so convinced that she was 'the woman of his life' after just a few exchanged messages and casual encounters at college.

He acted as if they were already in love, talking about their future together, their travel plans, their children's names, how his mother would love to meet her. All this without even knowing what her favorite food was.

They were in a bar near the college, and Y/n, completely scared by every word that came out of his mouth, started drinking. A tequila. Then, a shot of vodka. Then beer. Each sip was a momentary relief from the barrage of exaggerated statements he made.

When she realized that the alcohol was already rising and that she definitely couldn't stay there, she decided to find a way to leave.

"I... just remembered that I need to go home. My parents need me there."

She grabbed her bag and hurriedly got up, leaving before he could say anything.

As soon as he left there, he picked up his cell phone and found a message from Ollie.

'So, how's the date going?'

'Terrible. And I'm a little drunk. I need to get home, but I can't drive.'

'I'm coming to get you, babe'

The bar was close to the college, so she walked over and sat down on the steps of the block where her course rooms were. She wasn't completely drunk—not to the point where she was throwing up or couldn't walk—but she knew she wasn't sober enough to drive or take a taxi by herself.

A few minutes later, a taxi pulled up in front of her. Ollie got out of the car, said something to the driver, and paid the fare before looking in Y/n's direction.

She was sitting on the stairs, looking down at the ground with a dejected expression. He couldn't tell if it was because of the disastrous date or simply because she was tired from class.

He walked up the steps and smiled. "Wow, Y/n. You look great. Radiant, even."

Y/n looked up, snorted, and smiled. "Shut up."

"Come on, I'll help you." Ollie laughed and held out his hands to her.

She took his hands, and Ollie gently pulled her up, helping her to her feet. Once she was standing, she sighed. "The guy was already talking about kids, marriage, our country house, and naming our dogs."

Ollie's eyes widened. "Bullshit."

"I swear. And the worst part? He acted like we'd been married for years. Like... we don't even know each other!"

"You attract such a weirdo..." Ollie chuckled, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, crossing her arms. Ollie then held out his hand to her.

Half drunk and a little lost, Y/n just slapped his palm and said excitedly: "HIGH-FIVE!"

Ollie laughed, tilting his head back. "Y/n, I wanted your car keys, not a high-five."

She frowned and then raised her eyebrows, as if she understood the logic of it. "Ahhh. Here..."

Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to him with a smile.

"Thanks." Ollie laughed, putting away the keys and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go home, honey."

Y/n snuggled against him as they walked towards the parking lot. Ollie felt torn on one hand, seeing Y/n hanging out with other guys always made him sad.

But on the other hand, he liked being the person who always rescued her. I enjoyed taking care of her, even if it was after failed dates and a few extra shots of tequila.

As they got into the car, Ollie put on his seatbelt. Y/n watched him closely, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so beautiful." She commented suddenly.

Ollie paused for a second, turned his face to her and raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk."

"That doesn't mean it's a lie." She smiled even wider.

Ollie laughed, starting the car. "Okay, let's get you home before you propose to me too."

•••••••••••••••••••••

4th Failed Meeting

Dinner had barely started, and Y/n already wanted to run away.

The guy couldn't stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. About how perfect she was. About how she broke his heart. About how sometimes he still dreamed about her.

Y/n tried to change the subject a few times, but he always found a way to go back to his ex. The worst part? He started comparing her to the girl. The way she spoke, the way she played with her hair, even her smile, everything was identical to his ex-girlfriend.

It was enough for Y/n to realize that he was definitely not ready to move on. So before dessert arrived, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

"Look... I hope you can get over your ex one day. But I'm not her, and you clearly don't want to be here with me. Good luck."

She left without looking back, ignoring any protests he might make.

As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk, he took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the frustration of the encounter. But when he looked up, he saw a car parked on the other side of the street.

A car that looked absurdly familiar.

She frowned and walked closer. When she saw who was behind the wheel, she laughed in surprise and knocked on the window.

Ollie smiled from inside and unlocked the doors. Y/n quickly got into the car and turned to him.

"What are you doing here?" She raised her eyebrows. "I haven't even had time to call for help yet!"

Ollie chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. "My parents ordered dinner from this restaurant. I came to pick it up." He then gave her an amused look. "But then I saw you sitting inside with a panicked look on your face. I decided to wait, because I was sure that in a matter of minutes you would either come out or send a message asking for rescue."

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise. "You know me too well."

"It's a gift." Ollie shrugged, smiling.

She was silent for a second, her heart pounding. She wanted so badly to tell him. To tell him that, since childhood, he had been her favorite person. That, through all these failed dates, the only constant was him.

So instead he just smiled.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

"What was the problem this time?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still smiling.

Y/n snorted, leaning her head back against the bench. "He couldn't stop talking about his ex. From the beginning to the end of dinner."

Ollie grimaced. "Really?"

"Seriously. And not only that! He compared me to her all the time. He said that the way I moved my hair reminded him of her, that my smile was just like hers, that even my voice sounded like hers."

"For God's sake." The pilot's mouth fell open in shock.

"I know!" Y/n threw her hands up. "Like, why did he go out with me? He's clearly still in love with her!"

Ollie laughed, shaking his head. "You have a magnet for bad dates. I told you!"

"I'm starting to think so." She laughed, turning to him. "I think I'll stop trying for a while."

Ollie looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead, he just drove on and smiled.

"Good idea. And anyway, you don't need dates when you already have the most amazing best friend in the world to save you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart race.

Maybe one day she would finally be able to tell him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Last Failed Date.

The meeting wasn't bad. The guy was nice, handsome, polite and even funny. They had fluid conversations, laughed at the same things, and Y/n almost allowed herself to believe that it could finally work out.

But with every laugh, every witty comment, she realized she was comparing everything to Ollie.

The way he told jokes. The way he moved his hair, his voice, his jokes. Gosh, even physically, he reminded me a little of Ollie.

And it was there, in the middle of dinner, that everything became clear.

What she was looking for was always right beside her.

She put the glass down on the table with a sigh and looked at the boy in front of her.

"Look... I need to be honest with you."

"Go ahead." He raised his eyebrows curiously.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're an amazing, kind, polite, and thoughtful guy. But there's someone... someone I need to see right now. I need to tell them how I feel before it's too late. I'm sorry."

He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I'm glad you realized that on the first date, so my heart doesn't break as much."

"I'm sorry, again." Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

"No need to apologize." He shrugged. "Good luck with your love!" He smiled, genuinely rooting for her.

Y/n smiled, paid her share and left the restaurant, her heart racing.

All the way to Ollie's apartment, her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. How would he react? What if it was too late? What if she had misinterpreted everything?

But one thing was certain, she had to try.

When she arrived at the building, the receptionist just smiled and let her pass without needing to tell him; she was already as much a part of that place as Ollie.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door.

When Ollie opened it, his eyes widened to see her there, crying softly, with her hands in the pocket of her denim jacket and her makeup slightly smudged.

"Y/n?" He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her lightly inside, closing the door behind them. "What happened? Did he do something to you? Because if he did, I swear I-"

"No, no!" Y/n shook her head quickly, wiping away a tear. "Nothing bad happened. The date was good, the guy was sweet, but..." She took a deep breath, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. "I left because I realized I love someone else."

Ollie froze. His heart stopped for a second, dreading hearing another guy's name leave her lips. But then, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and looked deep into his eyes, tears starting to fall again.

"The man I love has known me since I was a child. He knows when I'm having a bad day, knows exactly what to do to cheer me up. He takes me on runs, lends me his sweatshirts, takes care of me when my parents are away on business..." Ollie held his breath, his heart hammering. "He's my best friend..."

The last sentence came out in a whisper, full of emotion.

Ollie's eyes lit up. One second his hands were on her face, and the next he was pulling her into a kiss.

It was soft, tender, but at the same time full of urgency, as if they had both been waiting for this for years. Between one kiss and another, smiles formed, hands clasped, as if they wanted to be sure that it was real.

When they broke apart, Ollie rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

"I've loved you since I was little," he confessed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "It hurt to see you go out with all those guys, but I was relieved when it didn't work out because I knew you'd come back to me. I always wanted to take care of you like you were my own."

Y/n smiled, her hands wrapping around his neck. "I've always been yours, I just didn't realize it before. But I'm here now, and forever. You just have to want it too."

Ollie smiled, his eyes full of love. "I want you today, tomorrow and always."

And then he kissed her again, finally sealing everything that had always been there.

Y/n's hands slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth and familiarity that had always been there, but now with a completely different meaning. Ollie sighed against her lips, smiling between one kiss and another, as if he couldn't believe that this was really happening.

But now, there was no more hesitation, just the certainty that they were finally where they were supposed to be.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Adore You 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor Odinson

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Thor and Luna.

Summary: good intentions often lead to bad ideas.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Thor jerks up as his knees threaten to give out. He hasn’t slept. He’s stayed there, watching her through the slats, her gentle snores lulling him. He’s had to resist his fatigue as much as the urge to go lay next to her. 

He rubs his eyes then scratches his nose as he holds onto the cross bar for balance. Clothes hang around him, brushing around his figure like a cape. His head slumps as his gaze slips between the wood and clings to her. 

She stirs slowly. She groans and rubs her shoulders as she turns onto her back. She sits up cautiously and closes her laptop. She yawns behind a cupped hand before she turns her legs over the side of the bed.  

She’s facing him as she begins her morning stretches. He knows those are part of her treatment. He helps his mother through hers sometimes. They are careful and held for a while to keep the joint from jarring. She stands and completes the regimen, moving stiffly as she searches out her slippers. 

As she leaves the room, he lets out a deep breath. He should have left by now. He doesn’t know why he didn’t. He just couldn’t bring himself to. He likes being so close. Still, he’s not stupid. This is a dilemma. 

He needs to sneak out and he’s not a small or subtle man. His brother loves to call him an oxen-headed lummox and he hasn’t often proven him wrong. He can hear her in the kitchen. If he can just get to the hallway and maybe hide in the bathroom until she’s back in the bedroom... 

She comes back. She’s sluggish as she rubs her temples. She goes to grab her phone on the night stand. She checks it for a bit then sets it down again. 

She goes to the dresser and pulls out a shirt. She examines it then switches it for another. She lays that on the bed then comes toward him. He gulps. She’s going to open the closet! 

He clutches the door and the frame as his heart races. She grabs the handle and pulls. The door doesn’t budge. He keeps his grip firm as she grunts and frowns. She shakes it and tries again. She’s not very strong, not compared to him. 

Her hands slips and she shakes it out, cradling her knuckles. He’s not helping her condition. If she’s anything like his mother, her wrists are achy. 

“What the hay?” She mutters and tries again. 

He steels himself and lets go. The door slides open and she huffs but quickly swallows it up. His eyes go wide and he shows his palm, trying to shrink himself. 

“Wh-wha-” She stammers then inhales. 

He panics and charges out. He grabs her and smothers her scream with his hand. He hushes her as she babbles and latches onto his thick wrist. He overwhelms her easily and urges her back to the bed. He sits her down and she folds without resistance. 

She stares at him with round eyes. He can feel her breath, so shallow, terrified, of him. 

“Wait, wait,” he begs in a grizzly tone. “Pet, please, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

She squirms and pushes on his forearm. He hates how he can feel her pain in the weakness of her touch. He doesn’t want to add to that. 

“I promise. Please. Just don’t scream,” he pleads. “I only... you left your door unlocked.” 

Her brows raise higher and her eyes glisten. No, she’s going to cry. She’s terrified of him. It’s not supposed to be like this. 

“Please, let’s talk,” he says. He shifts his hand slowly and waits. 

She gapes at him. He peels his palm from her mouth and stands. He clears his throat. 

“Alright, let us be calm,” he girds. 

She screams. Not for long. He quickly catches it and pushes her onto her back. She writhes as he pins her to the mattress. He whimpers and sits next to her as he hisses at her to be quiet. 

“Look,” he pets her head, trying to calm her trembling. “I don’t mean you harm. Yes? I only mean to help. To take care of you. I could... bring you your coffee? Fold your laundry?” 

She stills and blinks. Her hands curl around the crumpled quilt. She whines. 

“We’ve started off poorly,” he frowns. “Luna, I’m Thor.” 

She twitches at her name. A tear pebbles at the corner of her eye. He wipes it away gently. 

“I... you didn’t lock the door and I thought that could be dangerous so I came to lock it for you then I got... trapped?” He explains, his words not sounding how he likes. “I was going to leave...” 

She squeaks and tense against the bed. He grimaces helplessly. She’s so scared. She’ll scream the first chance she gets. 

“You need pain killers. Yes, those will help. I hope I didn’t make anything worse,” he touches her arm and she flinches. “I promise, I wouldn’t ever hurt you, but I need you to listen and not scream.” 

She stares. Her tear trickles down her temple and he sighs. He didn’t want it like this.  

He stands and brings her with him. He takes her to the dresser and opens a drawer. She shaking violently. He finds a sock and balls it up. He doesn’t want to do it, but he has to. Just until she can hear him. 

He stuffs the fabric into her mouth then secures it with the belt for her robe. He puts her back on the bed and ties her wrists with the shirt she left there. He grabs another for her ankles. She shudders and sniffles as she fights tears. 

“Hey, hey,” he caresses her face, “I mean it. I’m not a bad guy. I want you to be comfortable. Happy. Here, I will... oh,” he stands and clutches his head. He looks at her. This isn’t right. 

It’s not supposed to be like this. 

[dubiousanon]

I literally can't stop thinking about this.

Naruto never says it out loud, but he knows Kakashi knows.

After all, Naruto has never exactly been the shining picture of subtlety. He's always worn his heart on his sleeve, has always radiated his love out like a beacon, bright and warm and painstakingly obvious. He's never had a real reason to hide his feelings before now, and now that he does he knows it's already too late.

He can see it in the way Kakashi sometimes averts his gaze. He doesn't quite grimace when Naruto gets ahead of himself, but there's always a flash of discomfort there that hits Naruto like a slap to the face anytime he catches it. Kakashi isn't stupid, and he's far from dense. Naruto watches, and of course he'd noticed.

It hurts, but it's expected. Naruto hasn't gotten a lot of his wants in life, and this is just another one of them. It's not like he can blame Kakashi for how he feels. He understands the position he's put him in is awkward, that what he feels for his former teacher is objectively wrong. Naruto just... can't help it.

Kakashi-sensei was one of the first people who cared more about him than the fox sealed in him. He's always looked out for Naruto, has kept his best interests in mind, has supported him, taught him, loved him when nobody else would. Naruto isn't sure when or how that love changed on his own end. If maybe it started growing and just didn't stop, or if something specific triggered it and he didn't notice until it was too late. He has no idea.

All he knows is that Kakashi doesn't feel the same way. He's never going to feel the same way. However he does look at Naruto, Naruto is secure enough to know it's not like that. And that's fine— again, Naruto gets it. It doesn't stop the want or the burning fire in him that wants to reach out and consume any scrap it can get, but he's okay.

It's a quiet resignation. An acceptance that for once, he can't change things. Naruto will live his life alone, as close to Kakashi as Kakashi will let him, and that'll be enough. Getting to see him every day will be enough. Talking to him and laughing with him and training with him will be enough. Those friendly pats on the head, and never anything more, will be enough.

————————————

Kakashi's not blind, but Naruto isn't either.

It's because he watches Kakashi so often that he notices it at all. Naruto has always been hyper aware of him in a way he isn't other people, tuned into everything he says and does when he's around. These days, it's rare for Kakashi to hang around long if there isn't someone else there with them. A buffer so he can pretend things are normal, and that Naruto doesn't feel the way he feels.

Lately, though, Naruto has been seeing him what feels like everywhere. Even if it's just peripherally, he knows Kakashi enough to know that things with him are seldom ever a coincidence. Naruto can be doing anything— grocery shopping, eating out, walking home, jogging off to train. It doesn't matter. Somehow, Kakashi always seems to show up.

And it's weird. It's different, but Naruto is so happy for the extra time that he doesn't... he doesn't think about it. He knows he should've looked closer. He knows those brief head pats turning to hair ruffles and an arm over the shoulder should've been flashing neon signs telling him something was wrong. Deep in his gut, he'd know something was off.

It has just been so good. It was too easy to let himself be starstruck. Kakashi actually giving him the time of day with none of the underlying tension, smiling easily with that curious head tilt he liked to do. It was amazing, just like things used to be before Naruto's feelings grew too big for his body to contain and started to pour out.

It's not quite Naruto deluding himself, but it's close. The discrepancies are right in front of him and it's not that Naruto is too much of an idiot to see them, he's just so much of an idiot that he chooses to ignore them. He turns his logic the other way for as long as he can, until—

Until he... can't. Anymore.

It's stupid, the way it happens. Naruto isn't doing anything special. It's a hot day, the kind that has his shirt sticking to his chest and sweat pouring down his back. He feels the sun burn across his shoulders and the bridge of his nose as he stretches, legs split wide apart and body tilting into a forward fold. It strains the muscles in his back deliciously, pulling at all the knots his springy old mattress had put in it the dubious night of sleep before.

Naruto runs a hand through his hair, taking a slow, deep breath. It's by chance he glances up and spots him. This training ground is in Konoha's far eastern corner, under-maintained and hard to happen upon by chance. Naruto comes here for privacy when he needs it— trying to train becomes too much of a spectacle if he does it anywhere else.

Kakashi-sensei is there, perched in a tree, and he's looking at Naruto. Actually, really looking at him. There's none of the usual laziness in his gaze. His stare is sharp, piercing, and Naruto sees now clearer than ever what he was pretending wasn't there before. When Kakashi looks at Naruto, he looks at him like he wants to eat him alive. Like he wants to grab him and never let go. Like Naruto is something he wants.

Naruto's heart drops. The illusion shatters.

This is not his sensei.

Kakashi from a universe where he loves Naruto but knows it won’t be returned is body swapped with the kakashi from a universe where Naruto loves kakashi and knows it won’t be returned.

Naruto manages to sus out the changes first because while things are the same everywhere else, this kakashi actually looks at him.

In the eye when he speaks instead of down at his book, watches when he’s not looking, pays attention to his training…and when he goes to watch kakashi in turn he starts catching his eyes.

It’s…it’s nice to be watched by the one person Naruto has always looked to.

It’s also wrong because nothing he’s done could have earned this attention. This affection in his sensei’s chakra. Not so quickly, not so intensely. It’s not his sensei.

[miraculous-floconfettis]

Something i've been wondering about Emilie for a while

I have often wondered if Adrien suddenly wanting to go to school and sneaking out right after his mother disappeared had something to do with the fact that one of the two people who wore his amok wasn't there to control him anymore (especially since Emilie was the one who used the peacock Miraculous and thus, "created" Adrien).

Don't get me wrong, Emilie seemed to be a very kind and lively person. She definitely was a lot nicer to Adrien than Gabriel ever was, and Adrien always speaks very highly of her.

The Werepapas episode showed us a glimpse of what his life was before his mother disappeared and they definitely had a strong and sweet bond. They must have shared a lot of amazing and loving moments that will be forever engraved in Adrien's heart.

But nothing is ever black and white, especially in the show.

We've often assumed at the beginning of the show that Adrien growing up isolated from the world was Gabriel's doing, but we tended to forget that his mother was here when he was younger and he still wasn't allowed to go to school or have friends (let alone a birthday party). Emilie must have had a say in the way they raised Adrien and maybe she might have been against sheltering him, but she did nothing in the end, and Adrien was raised in a gilded cage till she disappeared.

We've only been shown crumbs of the person Emilie was when she was still alive and even though her light seemed dimmed in the videos Nathalie watched or in the Werepapas episode (because she was obviously sick), Emilie seemed to have a strong personality: Gabriel described Adrien as "emotional" and and also said things like "I have to apologize for my son, he’s like his mom, he’s way too overly dramatic" and "Quite a temper, you remind me of someone" before turning to his wife's painting in Simon Says.

What i'm reading between those lines is that Emilie wasn't an "overly dramatic" person, but seemed to be someone who stood her ground and didn't back off in front of her husband or anyone else, and wanted her opinions and wishes to be heard and fulfilled.

And even though i don't like the idea of her using Adrien's amok against him, it still was in the wedding ring she was wearing all the time.

Another thing is that Adrien is really fond of his mother so she definitely must not have been evil and she loved her son a lot and took good care of him. But as he lost her quite young, he also must have an idolized image of her.

The best example i can compare that situation with is Harry Potter: he grew up without parents so he created this perfect image of them in his head to compensate for his loss. Harry even defended his dad against Severus Snape when he accused James Potter of being "exceedingly arrogant". But in the later books, Harry came to face the hard truth that his father wasn't exactly the perfect person he thought he was (I'm not saying that Severus Snape was an angel, but he was actively bullied by James Potter and his gang so he has every right to loathe him). The only thing that differs in Harry's situation is that he was a lot younger than Adrien when he lost his parents. Harry never knew them, unlike Adrien who spent at least 13 years with his mom.

This is why i think that, even though Emilie was kind and loved her son more than anything, the only thing that Adrien remembers of his mom are the good times. The human mind often tends to choose to forget the bad times to compensate for the loss, and Adrien must have forgotten the bad memories like any person who lost a parent they loved would do (because there must have been bad times, any family as perfect as they want to be cannot be perfect all the time). 

[geoledgy]

your oc website is SO SO SO SO INCREDIBLY COOL how the hell do you even start learning how to do this ?? if you learned how to do this by yourself online, are there any tutorials or resources you can share with us? was making this website free??

omg THANK YOU SO SOOOOOO MUCH!!! It makes me so happy to hear that folks like my little site. I code my site with Phoenix Code (for the live viewer and number dials) and I host my site on Neocities - it is all free. Phoenix can be used in browser or on desktop, but I like having it on desktop more for big projects in case my files get deleted. I use the browser version when I just want to test something quickly.

The 2 videos I use and can not recommend enough to anyone who asks me are this HTML tutorial and this CSS tutorial. They are simple and easy to understand, but I recommend watching it the first go, and then following along the next few watches until you get the flow of basic parts to a website, how they're organized, and what order they go in. At this point, I've memorized exactly where everything goes, and it is all thanks to these 2 videos.

If I am being honest, I learned how to code by myself, not quite even with online tutorials but just from being stupid and messing around myself (1, because I was a kid, and 2, because I didn't understand English very well to know what tutorials are saying.) I used to do html coding for Neopet pages when I was a kid with too much online time, first by just editing the default petpages and adding info and images, and then just doing trial and error with the html. I'll just try something and then if it doesn't turn out the way I want it, I try to find out why it didn't work and also get inspiration from other similar sites to figure out where things go or how they coded (with this nifty thing called right click > inspect page or right click > view page source). And BOOM, working webpage.

It was rudimentary, white blank background without any boxes or anything, you just scrolled down the page and sections were separated by a horizontal bar. OH and every text was centered! I had no idea how to make scrolling boxes or fancy assets, but damn I still had so much fun working on it every weekend. When you find authentic selfmade sites from the 90s and 2000s, most of them aren't super fancy either unlike what modern nostalgia makes you think. So I hope you don't feel discouraged if you begin making a website and feel it isn't "fancy", you're already doing a first big step which is making a webpage and learned your first set of html code!

It was over a decade later before I coded webpages with html again. I've gotten lazy and started relying on site builders, but nothing was quite as versatile as html. I wanted to try coding my own OC site again, so that was when I started working on OutKrop (the site I posted). Until I started coding again, I had literally no idea what CSS even is (and let me tell you, it's a game changer!)

Personally, I work best when I can do things hands on. I don't read through tutorials, I code first then go back and read through coding help sites like w3schools when I find myself stuck and unable to figure something out. Sometimes I grab existing codes and play around with them to see what changes and what I can do with it, cuz having visual context is what helps me a lot.

I can also share my process:

Once I gather up some ideas, I make a sketch, including what boxes (divs in css) should approximately go. It is very rough, but shows me exactly what I need to know.

Next I load up my coding app (Phoenix Code in my case) and "sketch" the layout. Nothing fancy going on here, just putting things where they need to be, and fixing size of boxes and margins if needed. I give my boxes all a background color so I can easily see how big they are and where they are located.

After some adjustments like moving stuff around and adding assets like backgrounds and images, and changing colors of the boxes, rounding off corners, etc., we get this!

so recap + additional useful sites I use:

Coding app: Phoenix Code

Site hosted on: Neocities

Video tutorials: HTML and CSS

Sites for learning code: w3schools, also lissa explains is a great site that is written for kids to learn html so it's easy to understand. Finally, sadgrl has a lot of great resources for coding as well!

I recommend looking through these sites AFTER you tried taking a spin at coding - it doesn't have to be anything fancy just follow the HTML video tutorial I linked!

Thanks for the ask, and I hope this helps you and many others out there who are interested in building a site with html/css! Don't be afraid to get things "wrong" or have an "un-fancy" site. This is how you learn to code, and it'll become so easy once you get the hang of it.

Anyone is always more than welcome to reach out for coding help and advice :-]

[sanccharine]

16 | lesson plan

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader  genre: fluff, slice of life  word count: 3.2k

warnings: brief mention of bad parents

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu. includes: red velvet’s yeri, ateez’s san, yeosang and wooyoung, txt’s yeonjun

status: ongoing a/n: there are probably many mistakes, rip <3 also think i posted for hufflepuff!tzu like... seven months ago. yes, you can insert clown music here.

masterlist | chapter 15 | chapter 17

“What?” Tzuyu looked at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“Teach me Transfiguration!” you said, grinning as the idea formed in your mind. It wasn’t too bad, you didn't think so at least. “Be my tutor.” 

When Tzuyu just stared at you in silence, you tacked on. “Please,” you offered your best smile. 

Tzuyu stilled. Her mouth opened, a vague sound escaped, and then she closed it again. She was speechless. Did you say something wrong? You don’t think you did. Maybe she wasn’t interested… but she had offered. 

In your head that request made the most sense. You wanted to get better at Transfiguration. You wanted to study with her in the library again. You wanted to spend more time with her. And she’s offered before, not this explicitly, but her offer to help was always open, at least for you. So you were taking it—taking the chance. 

Trying your hardest not to frown, you prepared yourself for rejection. Of course, just because she’d offered at a previous point in time, doesn’t mean she’d still offer now. 

You hugged the Transfiguration textbook closer when you asked again. “I want you to help me get better at Transfiguration,” you said, confident but a bit more somber. You wanted to express that you were being genuine. And then added again, “Please.” 

Tzuyu blinked once, owlishly. Then again. 

“Okay,” she bit her lower lip, eyes shifting to the textbook in your hands before glancing up at you. “I’ll do it.” 

“Yeah?” you asked, trying to bite down the grin. Tzuyu only hummed in response. 

For a moment the pair of you just observed the other. The light glimmering in her eyes was so obvious, and if you were brave, you’d like to imagine it was because of you. The corner of her lips twitched up and down, and you wanted to call her out. Tell her she didn’t have to hold back her smile just like you were trying to, but instead you opted to just watch her. Deciding it was better to jump around in your mind, than stupidly in front of her. 

Abruptly, Tzuyu cleared her throat. She looked down for a moment, and when she looked back up again, her usual mask was on. Though not that it helped your own grin. Because you knew behind that mask, she was feeling somewhat giddy as you did. 

“Class?” Tzuyu pointed to the entrance, her hand still gripping the strap of her bag. It was a gift how well she was able to control her expressions. “We’re late.”

“Oh, right, of course,” you shook away the smirk that was itching to spread on your face. Stepping to the side in a bow, you extended your hand in an exaggerated manner. “Prefects first.” 

Tzuyu hummed, rolling her eyes at your act. But you didn’t miss the smile on her lips when you looked up at her. 

When the pair of you walked in, the class fell silent. You didn’t see what Tzuyu was doing in front of you, but you did catch Yeosang throwing her a thumbs-up. Unlike her, you didn’t want to reconvene with your friends, they’ve probably guessed how detention went from the expression on your face. And you’d like to avoid the teasing as long as you could. You did, however, glance at Lee, but she didn’t really let any expression past her. Though, there was a small twitch of her lips in greeting. Lastly, you looked at Yeosang, just before taking your seat next to him. He gave you a little wave, before showing the textbook page you needed to be on. 

Once Lee noticed you and Tzuyu had settled, she resumed her class and turned her back to you to write something on the board. That instant, something struck the back of your head. You lurched forward, patting the back of your head, before noting the crumpled piece of parchment by your feet. 

Fortunately, for you, you quickly picked up the parchment and flattened the paper while Lee was still focused ahead. Unfortunately, for your friends, both Yeosang and Tzuyu turned to face them. The scorn of Yeosang’s face was scathing, it was truly fascinating how such a pretty face could contort into such an ugly sneer. Coughing into your sleeve, you hid your snort. 

But holding back your laughter proved to be more difficult when you turned to the back of the class. Wooyoung was waving his hand as wildly as one could and then gestured as if writing a note. San was trying to pull him to his seat, afraid Lee would turn at any second. 

How did detention go? was written in Wooyoung’s hurried scrawl. 

You turned to him and he was signing with two thumbs-up followed right by two thumbs-down. Seeing as you’d be getting more notes to your head until you answered him, you offered a smile with a singular thumbs-up. 

Excited about the detention, you missed how San stiffened next to Wooyoung. 

“L/N, care to explain what you are doing?” 

You couldn’t be serious.

“Detention, really? Come on, Professor,” you groaned, remaining back with Lee. 

“You were passing notes—”

“I was getting notes—”

“You were disrupting my class—”

“Oh, come on,” you said again, throwing up your arms. 

“That will be detention, again,” she continued before you could interrupt her again. “Library duty, same time next week.” 

“Oh. I…” you straightened, contemplating the detention. It was more time with Tzuyu. You nodded. “Yeah, I can do library duty—”

“I was not asking,” you give her a deadpan look to match her own. “Also,” she pulled out a piece of parchment from her drawers. “I have your next assignment.” 

You raised your eyebrows and took the parchment from her. Quickly skimming over the assignment, you furrowed your eyebrows together. You recognized the question.

“Yes, that is the same question you left blank in your O.W.Ls. I’m glad you remember it.” 

Frowning, you caught her gaze again. When Lee met your stare with a steely look, you don’t doubt you have something akin to a glare on your face. Though, if Lee was irritated by the disrespect she didn’t care to show it. 

“Why—”

“Because I know you’ve improved—”

“Why did you take me into your class?” 

You ask the question again. The one you’ve been thinking of since you received the letter that you got into N.E.W.T level Transfiguration. 

As if Lee knew you had more to say, she stayed quiet.

“I know I didn’t meet your requirements, so why would you make an exception?” you ask, with a sigh. “And don’t say something stupid and vague like potential, Professor.” 

If anyone knew how to disrespect a teacher, it was you. 

But if anyone knew how to take your insolence without being perturbed, it was Lee. 

Her eyes only shifted slightly, a deadly glint over her glasses as she steepled her fingers in front of her face. 

“I didn’t make an exception—”

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes. Lee looked neither appalled nor admonished you for your language. She kept watching you, like you were an explosion she was waiting to go off soon. 

Then, she turned to her left, looking at the empty space in her desk and uttered a conjuring spell. Within seconds, a spotted frog appeared out of thin air. Lee jutted her chin at the frog, the animal blinking at you like you were its owner. 

“Cast a vanishing spell.” It was an order. 

Unnerved, but still obedient, you pulled out your wand and pointed at the frog. With one simple move of your hand, you said, “Evanesco.”

Just like the frog had appeared, it had vanished.

Raising your brows, you nodded to yourself. It was a clean spell. You looked at your wand, appraising it, surprised that it cast the spell so well. Perhaps, you’re not so hopeless. You turned to Lee, expectant and confused all the same. Will she be grading this or something? 

“Now, tell me the theory behind that spell.” 

Your mind went blank. 

Lee raised a single eyebrow, waiting for your answer, but you had none. 

“Vanishing is one of four branches of Transfiguration… ?” you trailed off when you heard yourself. Even to your own ears, you didn’t seem confident in the statement. Lee fixed you with an unimpressed glare but she sighed. 

“Do you remember how you learnt it?” Lee asked but you just shrugged. 

“You taught it to us last year,” you said, unceremonious but Lee just shook her head. “You taught it to us in fourth year?”

You weren’t sure what exactly she was fishing for until she pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with your answers. But it was clear, you weren’t leaving anytime soon. 

Thinking back to a year even further back, it finally clicked. Third year had been very strange for you. With somewhat of a rebellious streak, running in and out of detentions and with the threat of being pulled out from Hogwarts altogether, it had been a blur of a year. 

The only thing that was clear as day was that Lee did not let you out of her sight. To you, at the time, it was her way of controlling you. Admonishing you. Your parents were on your back. Lee was on your back. Everyone, all at the same time, looked at you as if you were a ticking bomb. 

Lee found any and all reason to have you benched in her office, detention after detention. If Slytherin weren’t so good at Quidditch, you wouldn’t be surprised if your detentions alone lost your house the House Cup. Not that it did, of course. 

While those detentions had mostly been a waste of your time, if you were to look further, there were also Lee’s students. The prodigies and the favourites and the ambitious, at her office between classes to improve their learning in Transfiguration. And in those detentions, you’d see older students attempt a varying range of spells, again, and again, and again. 

Vanishing spell, being one of them. Purely out of boredom, you often attempted to copy older students, granted you were never successful, and you’d land another detention from Lee if she caught you. But you’d seen so many spells, so many attempts, that by the time you’d officially been introduced to the spell during the next year, the basics of casting it had been ingrained into your brain. 

Maybe you had an inkling of what Lee was trying to say…

“I got lucky—”

“Try again.” Lee said, and you frowned. 

“I practiced.” You admitted, finally. “I watched your fifth-years fail again and again, and learnt from their mistakes.”

In fact, looking back that’s how you’d gained many of your spells. Vicariously. 

You’d always assumed casting spells, especially with a wand, came a little naturally to you because of your parents. You are a pureblood after all. But it was never the case. You’d learnt it like you learnt Quidditch. Watching others cast and watching others play. You never understood why it works or how it works, you just know that it works exactly this way. And then you practice, mimicking every move with an almost clinical precision until it worked, until it was second nature.

When Lee had chosen you to attempt that specific spell in front of the class, you’d cursed her in your mind. Thinking she was doing it to spite you, embarrass you in front of your betters, prove that you could not do well in Transfiguration. Just like your parents had told you. Just like you believed it to be. 

Such foolish, childish thoughts, but you thought them to be true. Of course, your own doubts had blown up in your face. The frog you were asked to vanish, sputtered and floundered when you miscast. Lee only frowned and asked you to take your seat again. You glared through the rest of the class, deciding not to pick up your wand again for that lesson.

“You were one of the few handful of students who successfully cast the vanishing spell during your O.W.Ls,” Lee said, taking off her glasses to wipe them. Her words cut off your memory of your failure. But you could barely remember the exam where you cast the spell correctly. “It was that practical that gave you the marks to enter my N.E.W.Ts class.” 

You shrug, about to counter her. 

“Maybe when you stop labelling yourself as stupid or a failure, you will actually see the potential everyone else sees in you,” Lee sighed, pushing back her glasses. “Again, I don’t take charity cases. I’m not that kind.”

You knew that much. 

“I know you’re trying harder than ever this year, and I commend that… but the journey will be easier if you just let yourself breathe a little,” the urge to bite back, to be defensive was difficult to swallow down, but you managed to keep your mouth shut. “It is not easy—it won’t be easy, but you are not the hopeless case as you believe yourself to be.”

Professor Lee paused, a brief flicker of hesitation caught on her usually confident mask. Then, she sighed out. 

“Like your parents believe you to be.”

It was as if someone had pulled you taut by puppet strings attached to your spine, forcing you to stand upright. Your muscles were so tense that you couldn’t even curl your fingers into fists. Lee frowned at your reaction, minute as it was, at the mention of your parents. 

 “It would do you good to remember that,” Lee offered in a kinder tone than you’ve ever heard her speak. “Please,” she emphasised the word, “remember that.” 

After a few moments of silence to let her words sink in, Lee sighed once more. 

“On top of your extra assignments, I want you in my classes with the lower years any time you are free. At the minimum of twice a week, teaching others will help you relearn the basics. You clearly have no talent for note-taking and completing your readings,” it's a skill how she lifts you and puts you down within a minute, one she has mastered. “But on top of relearning the basics, teaching your juniors will show you what you know, even when you think you don’t know anything.” 

Lee finished and looked at you, pointed.

“Is that understood?” 

You nodded wordlessly. 

“Alright, let the first-years in, and don’t take up anymore of their time,” Lee said with finality and got up to write something on the board. 

Dismissed, you turned and left. 

Like Lee had asked, you left her classroom without holding back her class. But of course not without a quick fist bump to both Minwoo and Jooyeon. Some other first-years just stared strangely at you, and for the fun of it, you extended your hand to them too. You couldn’t help but chuckle when some reciprocated. 

The rest of your day went better than expected. 

Attending classes felt lighter now that you’ve sorted out everything with Tzuyu. If you weren’t seated with your friends, then you were tailing Yeosang and Tzuyu. You were reintroduced to some of their other friends, technically you should know their names. However, you didn’t, but you were making an effort this time around.

During the lunch break, you updated your friends on the full story of the detention, not sparing as single detail. Not even how you’d asked Tzuyu to tutor you. While teasing was your friends’ way of showing affection, you appreciated the way they listened until you finished. San and Yeonjun sung you praises, the latter slowly leaning into teasing with every new sentence. Though you weren't too fussed, not when Yeri only shared a proud smile. Words didn’t need to be shared between the pair of you.

“Practice tonight?” she asked as she got up to get to her class. 

“Lake side?” you asked, finishing up your lunch. Yeri just nodded. “Yeah, let's try the new play?”

Yeri nodded again as she ruffled Yeonjun’s perfectly slicked-back hair before leaving the hall. 

Classes after lunch went without much fanfare, for most of them you shadowed your friends. Every so often glancing at Tzuyu in hopes she was glancing back. And when you did catch her, she’d be wearing that suppressed smile of hers before she looked down to hide it altogether to look focused in class. The interaction feels something like sharing a secret. 

When your last lesson finished, you caught her just as she left the classroom. 

“So, Professor Chou, when is our first lesson?” you asked, tone lighter than usual as you fell in step with her.

“Eager?” she asked with a brow raised, while her lips did that thing again to suppress her smile.

“Sure, yeah,” you shrugged in answer, doing something of your own to not display just how eager you were. “Let’s keep the lessons consistent. How about our free period in the morning, every week? Does that work?” 

“I have detention that time for next week,” she said, with a slight downturn of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ll be joining you,” you said with a grin accompanied by a one-shoulder shrug. “Library duty again. Can’t wait.” 

“What did you do now?” Tzuyu asked with a deadpan stare and you didn’t have the energy to feign hurt. 

“Does it matter?” you chuckle, slightly shuffling to the side as a student hurried past you. “Let’s start from the week after, how about it?” 

For some reason, you wanted verbal confirmation from her. Wanted to hear that she was as eager to teach you as you were to learn from her. Even if it was only a fraction of what you felt. That feeling being the yearning for academic prowess, of course. Nothing to it more than teaching and learning.

“Yeah, that works for me,” Tzuyu nodded with a small smile as the pair of you made a turn. “Same place in the library?” 

Your grin widened in answer. The noise of students chattering increased as the both of you neared the great hall. Tzuyu mirrored your smile as you entered the hall but came to a stop at the entrance. While it was merely optional, the pair of you would separate here to head to your own house tables. Unfortunately, the tables were separated by Ravenclaw. 

“Perfect,” she fully turned to face you, her smile morphing into something a little more serious. Taking the hint, you turned to face her, with a semi-serious nod. “We should focus on casting non-verbally first. So let's start with simple spells.”

You blinked, momentarily pausing as Tzuyu continued to plot her lesson plan. Your own smile, slowly but surely, tilting downwards.

She was taking this far too seriously… or perhaps, you should be taking it more seriously.

“Brush up on second-year and third-year spells,” Tzuyu paused for a moment, contemplating her own instruction but then nodded anyway. “Yes, brush up on those spells and we can start from there. We can work our way up. You’re an intuitive caster, but practice cleans you up. I don’t doubt you’ll master non-verbal casting.” 

Homework and a character analysis from the get-go. 

What did you just sign yourself up for?

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: mind you 3k of this had already been written... it was just sitting there untouched IM SORRY ;-; hope you all have a good day/night <3

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @tatliegilim @nanabongos @pandafuriosa60 @eternallyghosting

send an ask to be added !

[lyricalt]

RED sniperspy, foolish

in my typical distracted fashion, i had 80% of this written out then just... didn't know where to go until i thought "well it doesn't have to go anywhere, actually" so here it is, lol.

-----

Watching Sniper knit must be getting very boring for Spy to start an impromptu interrogation. 

“When did you know?” Spy asks.

Sniper is knitting a rather ambitious red tie using seed stitches, which even he finds a bit tedious, going from purl to knit after every single stitch, but he thinks it might be funny and worth the effort if he can get Spy to wear it. Spy, in a good showing of deduction and detective work, has been nothing but a nuisance in order to delay completion of the tie. Even though Sniper has said nothing of the sort about making the tie for Spy. There’s one other person on base that wears them. He’s sure Medic would be tickled pink to receive a knitted tie. There’s also the other spy across the way, who might find it hilarious to be gifted with something so ridiculous. 

Besides, Sniper has an inkling of what Spy is up to. He glances up briefly, noting how Spy is only lounging in the opposite corner of the nest, near the window so that he can smoke and flick the ash outside. Their eyes meet. Spy throws Sniper one of his sly smiles, but it’s got the edge of something private, especially when Spy’s gaze darts down to the unfinished tie then back up to Sniper. Like maybe Sniper doesn’t have to answer this vague question if he doesn’t want to.

The question is all covered in bait. Sniper does up two stitches without looking then has to redirect his eyes back down to do a quick recount. Spy certainly does know how to time his questions, and Sniper is well acquainted with this kind of test. When did he know? The start of all the decisions that led to Sniper up here, in his nest, with someone who gets on his nerves as much as gets into his bed, knitting ‘em a bloody tie.

“Ahh… not really a specific moment,” Sniper replies. He is aware that Spy wants to fluster him, wants to make him blush and stutter so that he messes up the tie, but also there’s genuine curiosity, banking on the off chance that Sniper will answer. And maybe he will, just to throw Spy off his game. “Just one day was looking through my scope during a battle. Caught you sneaking around. Shot a demo for you. Stared at you a bit.”

There’s a grin in Spy’s voice. “I distracted you?”

“I wouldn't say that,” Sniper says, needles clicking without pause. “Just. I remember thinking—oh, hope Spy visits after work. Hope we get to chat. Hope he wants to stay a bit. Didn't even wanna shag.”

“Then I popped by, hm?”

Now it’s Sniper’s turn to grin, though he doesn’t look up from the knitting.

“That's the thing. You didn't. Felt like a dunce, waitin’ in the camper. Embarrassin’ at the time, when I couldn't put my finger on it. Turns out you were just hangin’ with Medic and Engie in the rec room. Stuck me head in with a hangdog look waitin’ for you to notice me.”

There is a pause. Spy sounds genuinely entertained by the idea. “I don’t remember this.”

“Didn’t think you would. Y’said your ‘allo and how-you-dos then carried on like we ain’t been fuckin’ every week,” Sniper says, now glancing up. He puffs air in his cheeks, holds it, then lets out a tight, rueful exhale like he can push the embarrassment out of himself. That still remains an awkward memory. “I was mortified, mate. Turned back ‘round with me tail between me legs. Realized I was comin’ at ya expecting all your attention. That’s when I sorta knew I fancied you more than… eh. More than what we agreed on.”

Spy’s head might all full up with hot air now. He looks downright smug and a little charmed at the same time. It’s a small confession and Sniper doesn’t expect any big reaction, but Spy’s cigarette has been flaking ash over his suit pants, momentarily forgotten until a stray ember flits across Spy’s vision, and Spy quickly turns his wrist to tap the cigarette clean. Sniper chalks that up as a win, even if he’s setting aside the knitting project now to approach Spy by the window.

“Alright,” he says, standing over him. “I’ve fessed up. Now you.”

“I have an answer,” Spy says, easily. 

He reaches over and slaps Sniper’s arse.

Sniper doesn’t move. He stares, unimpressed. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Spy shrugs. “I have a habit of being infatuated very easily.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Sniper says, with no small amount of despair and exasperation.

Spy reaches up, grabbing Sniper by the front of his shirt. The cigarette stub gets flicked out the window. 

“And I have.”