#so just gotta get through next week basically and i’ll get my reward!!!

[mickeythreewasclingy]

feeling…. overstimulated and triggered tonight and i’m not gonna let it get to me! soo goodnight tumblr :)

[kimnjss]

[ part seven of a new series called: ‘clips with context’ - feel free to request your own! ]

>>

BACKSEAT BUSINESS

jungkook picked you from the crowd with one thing in mind. and he can’t wait to get started, no matter who’s around. // explicit. requested. 1.8k words

warnings: cursing, dirty talk, fingering, slight exhibitionism, taehyung knows exactly what he’s doing, mentions of oral (m. receiving), a smidge of angst at the end... jungkook is spoiled and entitled.

+ this is the first thing i’ve written in like a month, so if it’s trash go easy on me... i need to get used to writing again lmao

“kook's always gotta find a girl,” yoongi says with a roll of his eyes, words falling on deaf ears as the other six guys chat loudly about who's going in what car. plucked from the crowd toward the end of the show, you had no idea that the singer had spotted you. just assumed the extra time he was spending near your section was pure coincidence. imagine your shock when security was escorting you backstage.

he barely spoke when you were presented to him, just gave you a once over before waving off the man that had brought you. he's dropping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the couch in the middle of the room. you're tucked into his side the entire time they stand around talking. he's not listening and you're too starstruck to chime in. although, you wouldn't have much to say on the topic.

they were deciding car sharing arrangements from the sound of it. the seven gorgeous men you had watched dance and sing their hearts out on stage, stood right in front of you, paying you no mind.

jungkook sits lazily spread out on the couch as if they're not discussing him not even ten feet away. the tips of his fingers have started drawing light patterns against your naked shoulder, causing goosebumps to lift. his words come as a whisper against your ear: “you look so good in your little dress...” middle finger tracing the hem of it for emphasis. “i can't wait to take you home with me,”

 he notices the flush that rises on your cheeks at the end of his words., a smirk playing on his lips as he leans down. his lips are soft, warm against the clammy skin of your neck. at first, he lands light kisses on your skin – testing the waters... then all of a sudden his tongue is pushing out, rolling over a very specific spot before he's sucking that bit of skin past his teeth. you're letting out a gasp in surprise, hand shooting down to clutch his thigh as your eyes widen.

the sound pulls taehyung's attention. it's the first time he's looked at you and yes, he's just as intimidating up close. not a hint of what he's thinking is behind his stare and it has a thump of anxiety growing in your chest. you're just about to start full-on squirming when the corners of his lips lift into a small smile. “i'll ride with them, then. i don't mind.” he says with a shrug and as if that had been the dilemma all along, they're packing up to leave.

all jungkook had done, up til now, was kiss your neck a bit... honestly, you've done a lot more than simple necking – but by the time you're settling the backseat of the tinted window car, you're basically panting. he makes a show of waving off his fans, shouting promises of returning for another show.

as a fan, you're giddy to know that sometime soon they'd be coming back to perform again. as the girl seated beside him, waiting to be felt up – you were quickly growing annoyed... and impatient with his drawn out goodbye. he must sense that the moment he's rolling his window back up because he doesn't waste any time with crowding you.

one large hand laid flat on the center of your stomach while the other pushes your hair on the way, making room for the wet kisses he drags across your skin. it's hard to keep quiet with the way his skilled mouth works. love bites placed so deliberately there's no way you're able to fight the soft hums that fall from your lips. even with the full knowledge that kim taehyung is sat right next to you. like right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours as he manspreads... you could smell his cologne for crying out loud!

taehyung's sole focus is his phone, paying no mind to the way his bandmate pulls your legs apart or the way he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. as if it's far from the first time something like this has happened. and that's when it's clicking in your mind. this isn't the first time this has happened. it's routine, he didn't spot you in the crowd and have this unbearable need to be close to you.

he wasn't going to fall in love with you either. he simply wanted you and he was jeon jungkook, he got what he wanted. and as odd as it was, something about that turned you on even more. he wanted you. out of the ninety thousand people he could've chosen from, he chose you. for the night of course, but you were willing to take what you could get.

you're so lost in the fantasies and scenarios you're whipping up in your head, you don't even register the way he's pulled your legs apart. not until you're feeling the nudge of his fingers against your heat through the fabric of your panties. “make those pretty sounds for me,”

he's pushing your panties to the side, just enough for his fingers to reach through and brush against your exposed slit. the moan you let out isn't even all that loud, yet it catches the attention of the man seated beside you. tae tries to be subtle with the way he watches, holding his phone up as if that's where his focus is. it's obvious that's not the case and something about him watching you has a rush of excitement pooling between your legs.

jungkook chuckles fingers making their way to your now dripping hole. he doesn't say much else, eyes on you as he slowly pushes a finger through. and then another. he's moving at an agonizingly slow pace, enjoying the way you squirm beneath him desperate for more. “you're squeezing me so tight... can't wait to fuck you open.” lips pressed to your ear as he speaks, pulling a desperate whine from your lips.

“jungkook, please...” legs spreading wider for him as your hips grind down into his palm. he's grinning, eyes flickering to the man next to you before he's picking up the pace of his fingers. fucking into you at such a rapid pace, you're not even able to contain the squeal that falls from your lips.

his thumb lifts to meet your clit, circling roughly against it with each thrust of his fingers. he can tell you're close to falling apart, from the way you grip his shirt and the untimed twitch of your hips. “think you can handle one more, baby?” mouth lazily tugging on your earlobe as he speaks.

and you're nodding frantically, spreading your legs wider for him paying no mind to the way your knee knocks against taehyung's thigh. “such a good girl. can't wait to feel you cum all over my dick. you want that too, huh?” three fingers pushed into the knuckle while his thumb slowly rolls your clit underneath it.

he's making you feel so good, you'd agree to anything at this point. which is why you're agreeing to his words instantly, begging him not to wait that long, to make you cum now. and he takes you up on that, pulling his fingers back before quickly pushing forward. the snap of his wrist has enough force behind it to make your hips hit against the seats.

urging you to cum with each push of his fingers, reaching deep enough to just barely brush up against that rough patch of skin inside of you. he doesn't let up on the circle on your clit, adding more pleasure and it's only a few moments until you feel yourself unraveling completely.

your orgasm washes over you entirely, head lulling back while you let out a gasped scream. legs shaking and fingers wrinkling the fabric of his shirt. chanting jumbled syllables that are meant to be his name, judging from the laugh he lets out you're not even slightly close to making sense.

jungkook only pulls his fingers down once you've calmed down completely, lifting the wet digits to show off how your juices glisten in the dim light. and then he's pushing them into his mouth, sucking your taste from them while humming softly. you're watching him, not being able to pull your attention from the way his tongue moves.

you barely register the way he leans down to press his lips to yours, not until the taste of you fills your own mouth. but, just as you're about to kiss him back, he's pulling away. dark eyes drinking you in before he's leaning back against the seats, hands moving toward the buttons of his jeans.

“get down and suck me off,” you're shooting him with a wide gaze, eyes shifting over to where taehyung sits, fake watching the same tiktok on his phone for the tenth time. jungkook follows your gaze, laughs softly before he's dropping his stare back onto you, forehead resting on your temple. “he's not even looking,”

the boner straining against his jeans says otherwise. sensing your hesitance, jungkook tries a different approach, lower lip pushing out to form a pout. the same pout you have saved on your phone over a thousand times. “but, i worked so hard today... don't i deserve a reward?” he's looking up at you through his lashes. “i'll fuck you so perfect when we get to the hotel,” heat pools between your legs at his words.

you make a mental note to end the weeks-long debate with your friends on who's the most spoiled out of the group. it's jungkook, hands down. the youngest in the biggest group in the world, of course, it was him. he expected the entire world to get down on their knees with a simple pout of his lips... which is exactly why you're lowering yourself onto the surprisingly soft car carpet.

--

he does, in fact, as he put it 'fuck you so perfect when you get to the hotel'. from the moment you're closing the door to well after two in the morning, he's inside you. tossing you around, holding you down... fucking you open until your body shakes with overstimulation. and then some more after that. 

he calls you baby, but you're sure it doesn't mean anything. just that he never bothered to get your name. even in the early hours of the morning when you're being woken up by his security guard, ready to escort you out. he tosses his phone in your direction, half awake and telling you to put your number in. you know he won't call as you type out the digits, but you're still giddy that he asked.

eyes still closed as you leave, not even bothering to muster a proper goodbye. and while for you, this night will be a story you tell the grandkids... you know it'll end up being just another blur in his wild rockstar life.

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[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet uglies, 41, Sternclay, NSFW?

Here you go! And if you're a fan on "Let me be good to you" this has very similar vibes.

41: I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

Stern blames the playlist he had on at work for the fact his morning devolves into chaos. He works better to the blues (or 2000s pop hits, but those don’t feel right when going over files on suspicious incidents in Appalachia). So he hums as he rinses the remnants of his workout down the drain. He’d never sing where someone can hear, but since no one is here.

I want a little steam on my clothes

Maybe I could fix things up so they'll go

What's the matter daddy, come on, save my soul

He goes to rinse his hair and realizes the song is still going.

I need some sugar in my bowl, I ain't foolin'

I want some sugar in my bowl

His lizard brain yells two separate messages; “baritone voice very hot” and “oh god who’s there.”

The second message leaps into the driver seat and, in his attempt to turn, peer out of the stall, and be sure it’s just another patron, his foot finds the traces of soap on the floor.

“Shit” He falls backwards out of the stall, thudding to the floor.

“Oh fuck.” A man emerges two stalls to his left, soaking wet and flailing for a towel, “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so used to singing along with the radio. Are you okay?”

Joseph scans his body, finds nothing broken, “Yes.”

“Thank god.” The other man flicks shaggy hair from his face. In the split second before he gets the towel around his waist, Joseph’s gym manners fail him and he glances down. At least he’s getting several weeks worth of masturbation fodder from this humiliating moment.

“Here man, lemme help you up.”

Joseph takes the offered hand, then grits his teeth and swiftly turns to grab his own towel from where he hung it. He’d rather not show a stranger his ass, but this is how his night is going. As he turns back, he spots the other man quickly redirecting his stare from his ass to the floor.

Once both showers are off, Joseph changes and packs his bag. The stranger is at the mirror, tying his hair back and combing his beard.

“I’m sorry, my singing probably startled you too.”

A shrug of broad shoulders, “I work in kitchens, I’m so used to background noise some of it barely registers. And I always have the radio on when it’s just me in the mornings.”

“Hence the singing along?”

“Yeah, and why I’m here so early. I try to get my exercise in before work. Gotta admit, when I joined this gym I didn’t expect anyone else would be in for a 2 a.m workout.”

“My hours are all over the place. I’m with the FBI and when I’m on a case I tend to, um, lose track of time. Or work way later than I should.” He shoulders his bag, raises his hand in a wave, “it was nice meeting you. Even it was alarming at first.”

“Same to you” the man smiles at him over his shoulders, “and if you’re ever here at zero dark thirty again and want a gym buddy, I’m happy to keep you company.”

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

It’s a month before Joseph runs into him again. He swipes his card at the gym, finds the clank of a weight rack in place of the usual silence. The man from the showers smiles at him as he puts his bag near medicine balls, and when he’s done with his set he crosses the 80s-colored carpet to join him.

“It’s much nicer to see you when I can see you coming.” Joseph smiles politely, not catching his own subtext until the other man blushes.

“No kidding. I, uh, this may sound weird, but could I work-out with you? I’ve been doing the same routine for years because it’s what I know, but it gets so fucking boring.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company, though be warned that I do a lot of core and don’t use the machines all that much.”

“Totally fine. I’m, uh, I’m Barclay, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Joseph pictures twisting it behind his back while pinning him over one of the benches.

Instead, he shakes it, “Joseph.”

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

“I’m serious about skipping this if you need to” Joseph starts up the treadmill as Barclay jogs on the one beside him, “if you’re on your feet all day at work this could make that really uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

It’s the truth; he may not be as in-shape as Joseph, but he’s still pretty fit, and they only do thirty minutes of running. But it’s equally true that he’d rather suffer some extra-sore legs than lose out on a half-hour of his limited time with his friend.

He’d been hoping for someone to spot him and maybe teach him some new lower body exercises, with the added bonus of having some basic things (like music taste and bonkers work schedules) in common. What he’s gotten is someone with a dorky sense of humor, and extensive knowledge of cryptozoology and mystery novels, and the stamina to make engaging conversation about those things while running or working a rowing machine.

It helps that Joseph is so hot that he could caramelize sugar just by looking at it. The glimpses he caught of him when they met were tantalizing; the way his dark hair gradually loosens from it’s gelled state, the way his cheeks turn pink when flushed and sweating, the few times his voice turns truly breathless? Barclay is ready to get on his knees and beg for him to do obscene things in the locker rooms.

What makes this desire impossible to shake is the suspicion that it’s shared. He’s caught Joseph looking at him in a way that isn’t just about his form, and when he shows Barclay a new exercise he stands closer and lingers longer than strictly necessary. And his Freudian slips are so frequent and obvious they may as well be Freudian nightgowns.

Just when he thinks Joseph can’t get any hotter, the agent texts him around their three month mark of working out together warning that he’ll be late. When he arrives, Barclay drops the five pound plate he was moving.

Joseph hasn’t changed clothes. He’s in a full, black suit, shined shoes, and a silver and blue tie that Joseph wants him to take off and loop around Barclays throat instead. The agent smiles with a promise to be right back, seems bemused when he returns to find Barclay in the exact spot and position he left him.

“You okay, big guy?” The nickname is one of the many ways he built a home for himself in Barclays daydreams.

“Uh. Uh, yeah, sorry, got lost in thought. I haven’t started on the full workout, did some extra stretching since I’m kinda tight from yesterday. You wanna do weights first?”

“Sure.”

Their routine lasts about an hour. It’s an act of god that Barclay gets through it unscathed. Joseph is even more hands-on than usual, and his cologne (bergamot and citrus, if Barclay has his scents right) hasn’t had a chance to fade. The most distracting element of the whole morning is his friend’s voice; there’s an edge to it, like a knife in a velvet sheath, and Joseph gives fewer suggestions and more orders.

Barclay wants him to sound like this forever. But only if he can rearrange his life so that he can follow every command.

After a very cold shower, he falls in next to Joseph as they push through the double doors into the warm night. When he reaches his car, the other man touches his cheek.

“Drive safe, big guy.”

He wonders if Joseph can feel him blush in the dark, “I will, agent. I promise.”

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

“I told them to get those dark spots checked” Joseph shakes his head at the notice on the door informing them the gym will be closed for the next two weeks to repair massive water damage in the ceiling.

“I’m just bummed I won’t get to work out with you. It’s not as fun alone in my apartment.”

“You could come over to mine, if we can find a time where it works.”

“I’d love to.”

Barclay double checks that the address on the apartment in front of him matches the one Joseph sent, while trying not to fixate on the text that came with it.

Joseph: Be ready, big guy, I’m going to work you hard

He knocks on the designated door, pushes it open when Joseph calls for him to come in. There’s a yoga mat on the floor and a stationary bike in the corner, and far too little space for two grown men to work out together.

“Do you want me to help move the couch? That might give us...more...room.”

Joseph, in his full suit and dress shoes, leans against the kitchen doorway with a confident smile.

“Y-you’re not working out with me, are you?” Barclay’s hopes hurry to the front of his brain, tripping up his tongue.

“No. I did mine earlier today.” He runs a finger along Barclay’s chest, “I designed a special one, just for you. If you get through it all, you get a reward.”

“What kind?”

Joseph leans in to kiss him softly and swiftly, “I’ll let you fuck me.”

Barclay’s hands fly out to grips his shoulders as he groans, “fuck, babe, really?”

“Really. But first, you have to pick two things from this list.” He hands Barclay a sheet of memo paper with a neatly written list of the lewdest exercises he’s ever seen. He’d offer to do all of them, but then he might not have enough energy to enjoy his reward.

“The, uh, the push ups and the crunches.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Please?”

“Okay, big guy, we’ll do those. Get on the mat, push up position.”

Barclay hurriedly obeys. Freshly shined shoes step onto the top edge of the mat.

“We’ll just do thirty today. I’ll count. Ready?”

He nods.

“Good boy. Down, one”

Barclay bends his elbows, only stopping when his lips touch the top of Joseph’s shoes. He holds there a two-count, then rises.

“Down, two.”

He repeats the motion, keeps time with Joseph’s count as a hint of polish curls into his nose. It should be boring, maybe even degrading, but fuck him if it isn’t the hottest fucking thing he’s done in years. Joseph is so put together, so poised, Barclay feels like an unkempt beast next to him in his gym clothes. Yet he’s letting him kiss his lovingly shined shoes, telling him he’s a good boy as he works up a sweat.

“Down, thirty.” Joseph joins him on the floor as Barclay sits back on his heels, “well done. Now, on your back please.”

Barclay lays down. Joseph grabs a silver item from the side table and holds it in front of him. It takes his lust-glazed brain a second to grasp it’s a cock cage.

“Can I put this on you? You’ll have to wear it the rest of the workout.”

“Ohfuckplease.”

Joseph leans forward enough to kiss his chest, then shifts his shorts down to his thighs and locks the cage into place.

“If you need to stop, just say red. Okay?”

He nods frantically.

“Okay?” Joseph repeats with a stern look.

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” Joseph lifts his legs and sets them over his left shoulder. Barclay whimpers as there’s a snap of a latex glove and a pop of lube. Joseph smirks as Barclay whines at his teasing touches.

“Two sets, forty each. Go ahead and count in your head.”

“Okay” He curls his body, only gets through two more crunches before a finger presses in. “fuck!”

“Focus, big guy.” Joseph kisses his knee.

“I am, I’m focusing on the fact you’re a fucking genius.”

“If you lose count, you’ll have to start over” he presses in the second finger, “and that means longer until your reward.”

“I’m, I’m on twenty!”

A kiss to his calf, “Keep going.”

By the time he hits the second “forty” his legs are burning and Joseph is stretching his ass open with three fingers. He pulls them free but keeps Barclays legs in place, tugs the glove off and removes a blue, silicone plug from his jacket pocket . It slides in comfortably, but Barclay whimpers his name all the same.

“You’re doing so well Barclay. Are you ready to keep being my good boy?”

“Yes, please yes.”

Joseph sets his legs on the floor, guides him to his knees so he can pull his shorts up, and then helps him to his feet, pausing to kiss him sweetly and run his lips along his neck.

“Twenty minutes on the bike. Whatever speed you like.”

Barclay eases himself onto the seat, starts pedaling and watches longingly as Joseph heads into the kitchen saying he'll be back in a minute. The plug isn’t too uncomfortable to sit on, so this should be a breeze.

He hunches forward with a moan as it starts vibrating. Joseph strides back into the room, remote control in hand, only stopping to give Barclay another kiss and run his fingers through his hair before dropping onto the couch.

“Let me know when you’re done.” He picks up a copy of Empire and starts reading, heedless of Barclay’s increasingly loud moans.

The vibrator starts and stops, sometimes a gentle buzz and sometimes a furious pulse, and Barclay fights to keep the pedals going under the onslaught, desperate not to lose time and eager to please the man stealing tender, hungry glances at him from the couch.

“Time” He gasps, pulling his feet free from the pedals. Joseph is up and to him before his legs have a chance to wobble. Once he’s on the couch, shirt soaked with sweat, Joseph straddles him and kisses him demandingly, mouth moving from lips to cheek to neck without a care for sweat.

“Will you be a good boy and let me get off on you?”

“You know I fuckin will, fuck, babe, wanna be so fuckin good for youAH, ohgod” He throws his arms around Joseph, clinging and groping as he grinds on the cage and the aching cock within it.

“You look so good like this big guy, exhausted and obedient for me.”

“Yes, yesyes all for you, Joseph, please cum on me.”

“I will baby, don’t worry.” He brushes their lips together, “do you want some more kisses while I do.”

“Uhhuh” He whines, the noise only growing as Joseph kisses him and works his hips recklessly, his hands slipping up Barclays shirt to squeeze his pecs and toy with his nipples. When the tempo of his jerking hips changes, Barclay holds him tighter, needing to feel the way his body tenses and shudders as he cums more than he’s needed anything in his life.

“There” Joseph grins, panting, and pulls the key to the cage from his breast pocket, “now you can have your reward.” He slides to the floor, yanking Barclays shorts with him on the way. The cock cage hits the carpet and then a wet, enthusiastic mouth swallows him almost to the root.

“Ohfuck, Joseph, babe I’m gonna cum in like two seconds you, you might wanna-”

The agent pulls off, lazily licking the head, “I don’t want cum on the carpet, big guy. So be a good boy and cum down my throat.”

He gets exactly three and a half ecstatic thrusts into Joseph’s mouth before his orgasm knocks the breath from him and he cums, moaning out thanks as he does. When he’s spilled the last of it, Joseph sits back, breathing deep and wiping his lips.

“J-joseph? Will you, uh, will you kiss me again?”

The other man clambers into his lap, bitter taste on his tongue when Barclay glides his own against it. When he finally stops to breathe, Joseph pets his beard.

“Was all that okay?”

“So fucking okay. It was incredible. I, I feel so fucking good. Sweaty, but good.”

A kiss on the cheek, “Shower is just down that hall. Go get clean while I order dinner.”

“Okay.” Barclay looks at him with dreamy hope, “do you, uh, wanna do this again sometime?”

“Often. If, um, if that’s okay with you?”

Barclay nods, “as long as we can still work out together? I like doing that with you.”

“Of course, big guy.”

[honey-dewey]

Dye Day Disasters Part Two

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Mentions of spicy times, but nothing explicit. 

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Three months after you and Dio dye your hair for the first time, he makes a deal with you. You can go with him when he visits his sister if he gets to pick your next hair color. I’m sure that won’t be a decision you regret, right? (Spoiler alert, it isn’t.)

A/N: This is a shameless continuation of a story I posted yesterday, Dye Day Disasters. I have no shame and apparently no self control either. Oops. 

You sighed, kicking your feet and waiting. You’d never been good at waiting, but with Dio, waiting patiently got you rewarded, so you were willing to sit by the door and simply wait.

Dio had gone out to the store for dyes and other stuff, and you and him had struck a bargain before he had left. You were both headed out to visit his sister, and he agreed that he’d take you with him for the visit if and only if he got to pick your hair color this time around. You’d relented. In the months since Dio had dyed your hair the first time, you’d gone through plenty of colors, your favorite still being the deep teal with blue streaks that made you look like a mermaid. But now, the fate of your hair was in Dio’s hands.

The door opened, and you eagerly jumped up, seeing Dio walk in with the bag of goodies. “Were you waiting on the floor for me?”

“No!” You lied, hugging Dio tightly. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

Dio smiled, putting the bag down. “Calm down darling. Everly knows we’ll probably be late.”

You pouted. “We won’t be late!”

Grabbing your hands, Dio leaned in close. “Oh really? Because you do get a reward for sitting pretty while I was gone.”

So you were definitely going to be late. Dio rewarded you while you both showered, staying in until the water ran freezing. After that, you had to take care in covering the budding bruises Dio left all over your skin. Yeah, definitely going to be late.

And you were. Thankfully, not by much. Everly, who you’d only met once or twice, was eager to see you, happily hugging you and smiling when you winced at her tight embrace. “Oh honey,” she said. “Did Dio ruin you last night?”

“This morning,” you admitted sheepishly. “I’m gonna get even with him, I swear.”

Everly laughed. “Well, come in!”

You followed her through her house, Dio behind you. Everly chatted to you both, leading you into the garage, which was set up like a one man salon.

“This is where I do most of my work,” she said. “And if I’m not wrong, Dio texted me and told me we’d be using it.”

Dio nodded. “Just dyeing,” he said. “Nothing ridiculous.”

Everly groaned overdramatically. “Fine,” she said. “But, and do remind me to show off the photos, you looked so fun with bubblegum pink hair. Who’s first?”

Dio pointed to you. “They need bleach.”

You grinned. “Yeah. Learned that one the hard way. I was orange for a while when we tried to go from yellow to red.”

“That’s just basic color theory,” Everly said, pointing to the chair. “Sit. What color are we doing?”

Dio pulled Everly aside and showed her the dye, and she eagerly nodded. “Oh that’ll look so good!” She said happily, turning back to you. “But definitely bleach first, to make it pop.”

Still in the dark about your hair color, you said a silent goodbye to the slightly faded navy blue color you had now while Everly pulled a towel that was already bleach stained across your shoulders. “So,” she said, grabbing a bottle of bleach and measuring a decent amount into a bowl. “How goes it baby brother?”

Rolling his eyes at the baby brother comment, Dio began to tell Everly about life. You added bits when he missed something or said something wrong, but you mostly just listened as Everly bleached your hair.

Finally, once you were fairly certain you were going to fall asleep, Everly put the bleach bowl down and nodded. “Alrighty,” she said. “C’mon up now. I gotta fix all of that.” She gestured in Dio’s general direction and you suppressed a smile. “And it might take a while.”

You stood and Dio took your place, shedding his jacket and watching Everly in the mirror. “Have you talked to Brynn recently?”

Everly shrugged. “Yeah. She was here a few weeks ago,” she said, shaking out a cape and pulling it over Dio’s shoulders. “She’s doing well. We went dress shopping.”

Dio nodded, putting his chin to his chest when Everly pushed his head down. “That’s good,” he said.

“Yeah,” Everly agreed. “Oh, and Viv says hi. I saw her yesterday. She was disappointed she couldn’t see you.”

“She lives down the street from me,” Dio said. “She can literally walk to my apartment and visit.”

Everly laughed. “You know Viv. She won’t do it.”

Dio rolled his eyes, and you smiled. Sometimes you forgot how well Dio got along with his sisters.

“Okay baby bro,” Everly said, ruffling Dio’s hair once she was done, in her words, neatening him up. “Hop up. It ain’t your turn anymore.”

She didn’t make Dio get up, mostly because you and him didn’t need to swap places yet. Instead, she sat you in front of a sink and rinsed the bleach away, humming. “So,” she said, looking down at you. “When’s he gonna propose?”

You heard Dio drop something, and you almost knocked your head on the side of the sink in shock. “What?”

Everly laughed. “You two have been together for ages,” she said. “And when I mentioned I was seeing Dio, mom made me promise to ask when you two were getting married.”

“Everly, I will stab you with something,” Dio said, sounding strained.

“And we have not been together for ages,” you added. “It’s been two years.”

Everly rolled her eyes. “You’ve known each other for almost five though,” she said.

“Still not getting married!” You said, and Everly smiled.

“Okay, okay, I’m just the messenger,” she said, wrapping your head in a towel. “Dio. Up.”

Dio stood, sitting where you’d just been while you took his place. Everly dried your hair, asking Dio to turn some music on while she worked. He did, hooking her phone up to an aux cord and immediately flinching at her selection of music. “ABBA? Really?”

“Excuse you!” Everly said over the hair dryer. “ABBA is excellent!”

Dio said nothing, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see him tapping his foot along to the music.

“Finally, the fun part,” Everly said eagerly, turning the chair around so you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror. “Dio, wanna help?”

Dio eagerly got up, standing on your left while Everly took your right.

“Is it gonna be half-and-half again?” You asked. Dio shushed you, putting on gloves and beginning to carefully section your hair. So that was a yes.

Everly mixed the colors behind you, handing Dio a bowl and smiling. “Here we go.”

Between Everly and Dio, the process was much quicker than it was at home. Everly was done first, and began to prep Dio’s black dye while he finished up his side of your head.

Finally, when your hair was entirely coated in dye, you stood so Dio could sit. You tried to sneak a peek in the mirror exactly once, and found yourself unsuccessful and completely deterred from doing it again. Unsuccessful because Everly had put a black towel around your head and deterred because Dio pinched your thigh really hard. “No peeking.”

You pouted, making a very dignified face at Dio and humming along to ‘Killer Queen’ while Everly worked black dye into Dio’s hair.

Finally, he joined you, and you pouted in his direction.

“What?”

“You pinched me!”

Dio smiled. “Would you like me to kiss it better?”

Your pout disappeared. “Can I pinch you back?”

Sighing, Dio bared his arm, and you pinched the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow. He didn’t even flinch.

“You’re both dorks!” Everly said from across the room.

You smiled, standing up and plopping back down on Dio’s lap, leaning against his chest. He immediately accommodated for you, shifting so you’d both be comfortable.

“Yeah, dorks,” Everly decided, sitting in her chair and swinging around slowly. She held up her phone. “Say hi to Viv.”

You both waved to the phone, and Everly sent the video. “Alright. Forty five minutes. Are y’all in the mood for a movie?”

The answer was yes, mostly because Everly put on Corpse Bride. It was one of Dio’s favorites, so you two stayed cuddled up and watched the first half of the movie. When Everly’s timer went off, you reluctantly stood and stretched, sitting at the sink again and damn near falling asleep as she rinsed the excess dye out.

After a very lengthy blow dry session where Dio was adamant you still couldn’t look, you were allowed to turn around.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, finally seeing your hair. “Dio, I love it!”

Dio smiled. “I knew you would.”

Your hair, which had been navy at the start of this ordeal, was now split between baby blue and a paler pink, reminding you of cotton candy.

Everly grinned. “He picked well. I have to say, not everyone can pull these colors off.”

After that, Dio’s hair was washed and dried, and Everly made good on her promise to send you home with Polaroids of Dio with highlighter pink hair. You waved goodbye, promising to come back soon.

“Did you have fun today?” Dio asked as you two got in the car to go home.

“Yeah,” you said, yawning. “I’m exhausted though.”

Dio smiled. “Get some rest. And thank you for trusting me.”

You leaned back, cradling your head between the car seat and the door. “Wasn’t any question about it Dio,” you said softly. “I’ll always trust you.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

[marvelmymarvel]

Myself

??? x Reader

Keigo Takami x Reader

Synopsis: Keigo Takami... Everyone was in love with him it seemed, everyone but you. The winged hero annoyed you especially when he kept hitting on you. He didn’t seem to quite understand why you were so cold to him, till he learned who you were in a relationship with.

Trigger Warning: Forceful and relentless flirting (aka he doesn't get the hint)

Song: Myself by Bazzi (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytqVrVeCFx0) Basically Keigo lying to himself ;)

A/n: I love Hawks like the next breathing human, BUT LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT

“WHATTUP EVERYONE”

Your groan was loud and audible to everyone around you, as the number 2 hero burst into the Endeavor Hero Agency. Endeavor shot a glare your way, as the other sidekicks scoffed at your reaction. How could you not be swooning at the man?? He was literal walking sex, and yet you were annoyed by him. They would love to have his attention, have his arms wrapped around them... He was perfect.

As if on queue, Hawks swung his arm across your shoulders before cooing your name in your ear. Your rolled your eyes and shot a glare his way, “What” you growled, already done with the whole interaction.

“Y/n” Endeavor grumbled out, shuffling through papers as if you had no right to be acting the way you were. You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your superior, not wanting to get fired again like last week when the same exact scenario happened. Keigo seemed to have learned his lesson though, which meant that your outrage was well worth it because instead of greeting you with an ass slap this week, he was only greeting you with an awkward hug. 

But you knew your boyfriend wouldn’t like it either way.

“It’s alright Endeavor!! I like em fiesty... Makes em harder to tame if ya know what I mean” he gnarled in your ear. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you pushed him off you. “In your dreams pretty boy,” you snapped back, angry at the thought of him ‘taming’ you in the place he was referring. “What you wouldn’t sleep with me?? C’mon, every girl in JAPAN wants to get with me-”

“I’ll pass on the std’s thank you” you muttered out, walking towards Endeavor in hopes that he could let you go home early. You wanted to surprise your fiancee with dinner but you also wanted to get away from the stupid bird. “Mr. Todoroki, is it alright if I take a half-day? I can stay late tomorrow-”

“That's fine, you only have a week left. You should enjoy your time” he muttered out, too focused on signing the papers being handed to him by all the other sidekicks. The other sidekicks shot you a glare, knowing that you were the only one truly allowed for ‘half-days’. It wasn’t your fault that Endeavor liked you the most, and it didn’t even matter anymore if he did or not. He knew you weren’t going to stay forever like he hoped, so he hoped that maybe, just maybe, being sweet on you would persuade you to stay. 

But you were leaving in a week.

“Thank you Endeavor, sir, I’ll make sure to bring your coffee tomorrow morning” you stated sweetly before twirling on your toes towards the door, hoping that maybe you could make a clean break. But no, of course not, you thought as you spun right into Keigo's chest. “Move bird brain” you growled out as you pushed past him and sped towards the door. The faster you got away, the faster you got home, and the faster you got home, the faster you would feel okay again.

Keigo once again didn’t seem to take a hint and followed you to the elevator. The door closed but he slipped in before they did. “GOD Keigo!! Get the hint!” you snapped out, finger slamming against the ground floor button, hoping and praying that it would make it go faster. Silence filled the elevator, and for once, he didn't have a retort.

“You’re leaving?” 

For some reason, the sadness in your voice broke your heart. How could this kid, who was only 4 years younger than you, be so infatuated with you? He was 21 for Christ's sake!! So many women wanted him and yet he tried again and again for you. While Keigo annoyed you, he never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just a kid after all.

“Kei-Hawks... You gotta let me go, man... I’ve told you many times that I don't want to date you-”

“But maybe I can change your mind?! Just one date! That's all I’m asking for” he begged, red eyes growing big as he looked like a puppy with wings. You sighed, wishing that you didn’t have to break the kid's heart here and now. “Hawks, honey... I’m engaged” 

The air grew stale, making you look uneasily at what floor the elevator was at. Floor 14, fuck, at least another 30 seconds. “You... Oh,” he stated sadly, now making the energy in the confined space feel tense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you and break your-”

DING

The elevator cut you off and you finally noticed the anger on Keigo's face as he stared straight ahead at the doors. “It's fine. I’ll leave you alone. Didn’t need you anyway” he snarled out, before storming out of the opening doors. His wings slammed against the metal, causing a loud clank to sound out. Your nose was scrunched up, quite uncomfortable with how angry he was about being truly rejected by something he couldn’t control. You knew he was just throwing a hissy fit and would be over it soon like every other guy at his age, so you brushed it off and exited the elevator. 

You often wondered how your fiancee acted at that age. Would he have reacted the same? No, not your baby... The man hardly showed a reaction unless it concerned you... So then maybe he was like that. Your thoughts wandered as you made your way home, ignoring any villains on your way and just hoping to get to your home soon. Technically, it was your lovers ‘home’ first, but now that you were going to be joining the same career, it would also be yours. 

The big 1A sign for the dorms finally came into view, causing you to let out a breath of relief as you finally reached the main door. Opening it, you were happy to hear silence throughout the dorm. Principal Nezu liked your current hero work, and since you were a previous UA student, getting a teaching position was a piece of cake. As a teen, you would have never dreamed of teaching hellions how to be a hero, but as a 25-year-old, it sounded like heaven. Working for Endeavor was crazy, time-consuming, but rewarding. 

And it was time to move on-

You let out a yelp when arms encircled your waist. You had walked into your apartment with little to no thought but didn’t expect your lover to be there yet. “Well hello there” you purred out, turning in his arms to see him better. Shouta’s dark circles seemed to be lighter but his eyes were still full of tiredness causing you to believe he just woke up from a nap. “Took a half-day?” Shouta cooed out before dropping his head and nuzzling it into your neck. The warmth from your neck caused him to groan out and hug you tighter. 

Your fingers went to his hair and began raking through his waves. “Yeah... You?” you cooed out, letting one hand fall from his curls and allowing it to run up and down his spine. It caused his eyes to flutter and his body to relax even further. You were the only one who could calm him like this, so much so that it helped with his sleep. “I felt sick at lunch, Hizashi covered the rest of the day” he murmured out, pressing kisses along your neck causing you to giggle lightly as his scruff tickled your skin. 

“Good lord, you left Hizashi with your kids?? You must really have felt sick” you teased as you pulled his head out of your neck so you could get a better look at him. “You do look kinda pale... Have you eaten anything?” you questioned while your hand roamed his forehead, trying to gather an estimate of his temperature like your mother once did. 

He let out a huff, knowing you were about to baby him now that he let you in on the situation at hand. Hoping to steer the conversation and attention off of him, he turned his thoughts back to you. “Did you tell Keigo yet?” Shouta asked, hoping that he didn’t have to intervene and get his hands bloody. He didn’t care for the winged hero either, especially not after what he’s done to you, and because you know that Shouta could kick his ass, you decided to handle it alone. 

“Yea... He was kinda tense after, claiming that he didn’t need me anyway” you joked out, rolling your eyes at how childish it all sounded. When Shouta first approached you only 3 years ago, he did it with grace. There were no awkward touches and it was just him treating you like a queen, something you deserved.

“Well, I need you so, he can fuck off anyway” Shouta grumbled while pulling you into his embrace. Your head rested in his neck and you could tell instantly he was running a fever by the sheer fact that he was causing you to sweat. “You’re sweet baby, but I think you need medicine more than anything” you stated firmly, pushing out of his embrace in order to go get the medicine he needed. 

You began to hear chatter outside, signaling that the hellions were home. You went to the door, locking it so that none of the kids would interrupt Shouta’s relaxation time. Shouta didn’t move from his spot as he watched you walk around the kitchen gathering your supplies. Turning from your spot, you marched back over with a determined look on your face. “Alright mister, you’re going to take this medicine, take a shower while I make you soup. Then we are going to eat and finally cuddle... Got it?” you stated firmly as you shoved the medicine bottles into his hands, determined on getting him to a better state of health. 

He cracked a half-smile at how adorable you looked when taking charge. He nodded his head, not daring to argue with you when in this state of mind. “Fine, I’ll let you take care of me... But I want you to know that if that bird brain tries to take you from me-”

“Lord it's not going to happen-”

“I’m not finished” Shouta cut you off, gripping your chin and forcing you to hush. You fell silent in submission, and in the silence, Shouta moved his hand from your chin and cupped your cheek lovingly. “If he tries anything else, I may just have to get my hands bloody... Because I’m yours and you’re mine”

His firm statement took your breath away. Your pupils dilated in love, you felt so secure in this relationship and you couldn’t believe you were so lucky to have him as yours. “Okay” you state finally as you let out the air you were holding, “Okay, now you go take a shower, damnit... The faster we move the faster we can cuddle” you tease, a bright smile stretched on your face as you shoved him away from you. 

He shot you a boyish smile before walking towards the bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room. “God I love that man” you whispered to yourself. Your hands traveled down and gripped your fluttering tummy, no other man-made you feel this way. 

And it was going to stay that way.

[anonymous0writer]

Not So Sneaky

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Requested: Yes!

“sarah x reader where sarah sneaks out to see the reader & the pogues catch them on a date?“

Warnings: Swearing, drinking.. drugs

Soft Rafe! (for like two seconds)

A/N: I love Sarah! And I’m currently re watching the show, and I gotta ask why she’s always looks so pretty in every scene? I wrote this as a girl x girl relationship, but it’s Y/N, so it’s basically anyone person you want it to be. :) Also, go easy on me, I’ve never been in a girl x girl relationship, so I try to write to the best of my ability. :)

Sarah pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear any type of human activity on the other side. But only the soft murmur of the AC met her ear. Deciding she was okay, the blonde pressed her thumb to her phone screen- sending the text. 

I’ll be there soon!

The soft whoosh of the text going through was the only sound in Sarah’s big room as she tiptoed to her window. Her fingers dug into paint of her window, prying it open. Warm air rushed into the room as the AC’d room met the North Carolina night. It was summer in the OBX, which meant it was hot, so Sarah left with only her phone tucked in her back pocket. 

She climbed onto the room, and crawled to the edge, swallowing her slight fear of heights as she jumped. Landing on her feet, partially crushing the bush below her window, Sarah raced to meet you. 

It’d been a while since you two had gone on a date. And by date, it meant a night alone, staring at the stars without anything pressing in the back of your minds. And Sarah craved those nights with you, wrapped in each other’s arms while talking quietly about the stars glittering in sky. 

She sneaks to her car which she parked farther down the road earlier today. Sarah grips the wheel and speeds off to meet you at your regular dock, excitement practically bursting out of her as she grins. She can’t wait.

~

Your head whipped up as you heard gravel crunch and Sarah’s familiar car pulled right next to yours. You jumped up, racing from the dock to meet your girlfriend. 

As soon as Sarah landed on the ground, you pulled her into a hug. Soon enough, Sarah plants a kiss to yours lip. 

“Hey,” She giggles. 

“Hi.” 

You two pull away and move down the dock, listening the calls of birds and the silent pulls of the water around you. You two sit on the blanket you laid out and immediately go into your normal positions. Sarah’s arms around you as your head leans against her chest, both your staring at the stars.

You snuggle closer to Sarah’s warmth and she giggles, fingers brushing lightly through your hair. You close your eyes briefly at the feeling, but open them so you can gaze at the blanket of night above you. You grin. “Tell me about the stars.”

She starts out like she always does, soft voice talking about the North Star and branching out, touching on every star, you repeating her words in your head because you’ve memorized them. As she starts to talk about the next star on her list, you gently pause her. 

“I’ve been working on something for you.” 

“Oh?” Sarah asks, dark eyes bright, a smile tugging the edges of her plump lips up. You nod, biting back your grin of excitement. You’ve been memorizing Sarah’s words for a couple weeks, trying to get it down to her exact pauses and her grins in the words. 

“Alright. So that..” You say, the words tumbling out of your throat somewhat naturally as you point to the stars and tell Sarah the story she’s been telling you for weeks. 

As Sarah realizes what your doing, she gasps and then giggles in delight. She grabs your face, pulling you toward her, pressing a sugary kiss to your mouth. You kiss her back, but break away, too eager to show Sarah you memorized the whole thing. Sarah rearranges you two, so you are holding her tight as her eyes close and she listens to your calm heartbeat and your soothing voice. 

You keep going, enjoying the story coming from your lips this time. You admire the stars, enveloped in warmth and love from the girl in your arms. You kiss her hair and brush through it as you talk. 

After the stars mantra ends, Sarah rewards you with kisses that turn breathless and “I love you’s” blurring into other praises and compliments. You two roll around, lips connecting as you cup her face and her hands are in your hair. 

Breathless, you pull away for a second, heart tapping wildly at your rib cage. Your girlfriend smirks, her own lips swollen and her hair messy from your fingers. You smile lightly. 

“Tell me about your day.” 

This time both of you are on your sides, hands cradling your heads as you stare at each other. You watch her dark eyes and admire her flawless beauty as she obeys your request. You watch as her lips tug up at a funny thing Wheezie said this morning, or how Rafe finally agreed to teach her how to golf. Her eyes grow heavy, tiredness slowing her words just a bit as her eyelashes skim her cheek.

Once she’s done, and your comments cease, Sarah yawns, but questions you about the food and beverages. You comply, bringing out the cooler you always bring. It’s filled with snacks. Cheese-its, crackers, chips. Fruit, water. And what Sarah was wanting- alcohol. 

Your girlfriend opens the beer and hands you yours as she peppers you with questions about your day. This is what your dates consist of. First, you always cuddle and Sarah gives her mantra about the stars. And then you eat, and ask about each others day. And after that, you two allow the conversation to follow easily, jumping fast from topic to topic. The drinks flow easier too, the alcohol warming your bellies as you giggle madly at stupid things. When you two get drunk together, you always laugh. Laugh so hard at stupid, small things that happened a couple weeks ago. You two get loud and silly crazy when drunk. But you guys loved each other more for it. 

“Let’s go skinny dipping!” Sarah squeals suddenly, eyes lighting up.

You giggle, already peeling you shirt off in a drunk agreement. Your shirt and bra drops to the wood of the dock, and your already standing, wiggling your hips wildly to get your shorts off. Both of you are quick to rid your bodies of the confining clothes. And in a second you are jumping into the water. The water is cool, a stark contrast against the hot night and slightly sweaty skin. You two gasp, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes and laugh at your predicament. You two swim around, and splash water at each other, laughing loudly. 

You two are so caught up in the drunk haze of fun, that you don’t notice the HMS Pouge pulling upside the dock your clothes are perched on. 

“Y/N? Sarah?” A voice calls.

Both of you spin frantically around, twisting the the water and sending waves rippling away from your moving bodies. Sarah lets out a crazed giggle as you startle. 

“Kie? I-” 

Everyone’s on the boat. John B. Pope. JJ. Kiara. John B. smirks at you two, eyes wide and suspended in the water. Pope laughs, thinking you two are stupid for swimming this late. JJ smirks, imagining your bodies in the water, thinking it’s a little hot. Kie raises her eyebrows. They just caught you two having a date when you two told them that you couldn’t hang out with them tonight. 

“Hi!” Sarah calls. 

“Hey girls.” JJ grins. 

“JJ, shove off!” Kie rolls her eyes, but turns her attention back to you and your girlfriend, naked in the water. The pogues don’t seem to get the fact that you are naked. “I thought you guys couldn’t hang out with us?”

Sarah swallows next to you. “Uh, yeah. Because we already had plans... with,”

“Each other.” You finish, bobbing lightly in the water to keep a float.

“Yeah, sure.” John B. calls.

They continue to stand there, unaware of your predicament, expect the blonde surfer. He seems to be the only one knowing you aren’t wearing clothes. JJ smirks at you two, waiting to see what you’ll do. 

“You guys gonna come out?” He called, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Uh,” You sputter. 

“What’s wrong?” Pope asks, eyes searching the water and then the dock. He sees your discarded clothing and laughs. “This is gonna be interesting.” He mutters, loud enough you and Sarah can hear it. 

“Well see, the thing is-” You cut yourself off, embarrassment burning at your cheeks. 

“We don’t have clothes on. We went skinning dipping.” The girl next to you blurts, apologetically. You eye her, and her cheeks are red too, but she’s daring one of the pogues to give you crap. 

“Wow.” John B. nods for a second, and he makes everyone turn around so you two can get dressed. 

You allow Sarah to go ahead of you, and lift your body of the water, water droplets sliding off your body, rivulets of water running across your tan skin. You take a split second to admire your naked girlfriend, but the worry that a certain boy will turn around sneakily, makes you stop. You slip on your underwear and shorts, reaching for your shirt when Sarah yells. 

“JJ! Turn around, you ass!” 

You hear the snicker of the surfer and your cheeks go pink. You put on your shirt and comb your fingers through your hair before you allow the pogues to join you on the dock. 

You settle into a circle, and soon enough beers are in everyone’s hands and JJ’s blunt is being passed around. 

“So, you ditched us to have a date?” Pope asks, the beer in his hands untouched, as it usually is. 

“Yes.” You reply, not sorry that you ditched the pogues for one night alone with your girlfriend. After all, they’re here now, aren’t they?

“Hm.” John B. hums. “And you two are obviously drunk.”

“Just a little.” Sarah giggles, blowing your cover. Obviously you two are because you break into a fit of laughter. Kie snorts and shakes her head. JJ’s zoned out, blunt against his lips, head dipped back. John B.’s nursing his beer, and carrying on a light conversation with the sober Pope. And you and Sarah are laughing, trying to recover enough to talk to your curly haired friend. 

Once you do, JJ speaks, bringing everyone’s attention to him. His eyes on his new blunt as he lights it. “So if you skinny dipping again, invite me, will ya?”

“Fuck off!” You yell as Sarah throws a grape at him and Kie yells, “Shut the hell up.”

The group breaks into laughter as the conversation flows easily, and your brains clouding with the haze of drugs and alcohol. You reach over and squeeze Sarah’s hand, smiling. This date went better than you thought.

[impala666]

The Hot Nanny Part Two

Oh God, I did it! It only took what I think was a handful of months, but I did it! Finally we have a second part to the Hot Nanny! Let me know if you want another part to it where Chandler and Ross end up catching Joey and reader!Bing together? I’m leaning toward it, but just let me know.

After you decided that you couldn’t handle being at the coffee shop after what happened between Joey and his feelings for the hot new nanny, Molly. You couldn’t go into work to take your mind off of it because of course you were off. And the only thing you had later that day was Rachel’s birthday party at Monica’s and your brothers. Even though you knew it was pretty much impossible to ignore Joey for the remaining time, that’s what you planned to do. Of course you had to see him at Rachel’s birthday party, at least you wouldn’t have to talk about any relationship type things. You thought to yourself, but sometimes you forgot about how well Joey knew you. As you laid on your couch soaking in your thoughts, you heard a knock at the front door. Having a feeling you knew who it was, you got up quickly from the couch and quickly locked the door to keep Joey from entering.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, I just want to talk to you.” Joey’s muffled voice pleaded through the door.

“Well, I don’t feel like talking, okay?” You said as you leaned your back against the door and crossing your arms over your chest. You knew you were being a child, but you were pretty much dating a child in a man's body. Plus your brother was basically a man child; so needless to say you had your role models. 

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, that’s it. And if you still want me to go then I’ll go.”  He really knew how to get to you, didn’t he? 

“Okay, fine.” You huffed getting up from your position against the door. But as you lifted your hand up to unlock the door, you heard the locks click into place which made you quietly chuckle to yourself; you forgot that you gave Joey a key to your apartment last week. But when the door swung open you immediately changed your smirk into a frown, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction that he broke through your barrier already. Joey proved that to be difficult when he had his signature smirk on his face, clearly proud of himself for the move he pulled. Damn it, why does he have to be so damn adorable? The thought boomed in your mind while you tried to control the butterflies in your stomach.

“I wanted to come after you, but I knew that they would ask questions about where I was going and stuff. I’m sorry, alright?” Joey asked as he strolled over to lean on your kitchen counter while you closed and relocked the front door.

“Do you want to be with other people?” Was all you asked him as you stood a healthy distance away from him with your arms crossed over your chest and a stoic look on your face.

“What? No, why would you think that?” Joek looked at you like you were crazy. But then realization crossed his face and huge smile grew on his face. “You’re jealous,” he giggled.

“Well you were hitting pretty hard on Molly, the hot nanny,” you muttered as your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment at the thought of even being jealous. 

“If it makes you feel better I was only flirting with her to keep us secret, because I gotta admit you aren’t the sneakiest.” Joey said as he placed his hands on your waist a brought you into his chest. “Monica asked if there was something going on with us, because of how upset you looked.” You bit your bottom lip and looked up into Joey’s eyes as you rubbed your hands up his chest and linking your hands behind his neck.

“Apparently I need to get better at hiding it,” you giggled. “But I can’t help it, I kind of like you, you know?” Joey smiled down at you as his hands rubbed up and down your waist. 

“When Ross told me to see Molly he told me to focus my energy somewhere else.” He said as he looked at you in a way that only you knew what he wanted.

“Well, then Ross is right, focus your energy somewhere else,” you joked as you reached on your toes and kissed him with as much passion as you could muster. 

“Ross even had Chandler watch me,” Joey chuckled, “it’s like they don’t trust me or something.” Just the thought of your brother jumping out to scare Joey in the hall while on his way to see Molly, even though Joey was really on his way to you had you laughing. 

“Where does Chandler think you are now?” You couldn’t help but wonder as you moved away from Joey and to your refrigerator to get some water and then wander over to your couch and sit down. 

“He thinks I’m still at home, or probably getting food.” Joey shrugged not really sure himself.

“You gave big brother the slip, huh?” You watched as Joey made his way over to you and sat himself down on the couch right next to you. So close that when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder your sides and legs were pressed together.

“Yep, so is the princess going to reward the stable boy with anything?” Joey asked, letting you in on a joke that he told Chandler earlier, but to you it was only funny because you have heard him refer to you the both of you as the princess and the stable boy due to your secret relationship and because it was his one of his favorite porn stories. 

“Do you want a sandwich?” You offered as you looked over at him with a small smirk on your face. Joey moved his hand to cup your jaw as you smiled into the kiss he gave you. 

“Not yet,” he whispered against your lips.

“Wow,” you chuckled as you kissed him. You felt your self being lowered on to your back so that you were now laying on the couch with Joey on top of you. “Joey Tribbiani doesn’t want a sandwich, boy I must be special.” You could feel Joey’s hands start to wander as his kisses got more intense as he moved his lips to your neck.

“I said not yet,” he made sure to point. His voice purred against your neck. “And yes you are special.” Joey quickly mentioned before the both of you could truly get lost. 

[jimmythejiver]

For the first time in a long time I went to the movies in forever and then to Target. At Target I see some Godiva bars on discount yellow tags and I was ecstatic until I read 70% Cacao, Dark, Salted Caramel and was deflated.

Anyway that's how I felt about seeing The Green Knight. What you thought this was about chocolate?

No see since the pandemic I've been back on my perennial King Arthur kick. I've for a long time since I was a young preteen thought, someday I too will write my own King Arthur epic and it'll be gay, magical, gangster and culty too, but for now I'll make up my own stories for practice and then with every story I got attached too, it got too involved and convoluted to the point that when it came down to actually writing a novel, I threw it all away and made a space opera I only planned in two weeks and wrote in a month. Anyway...so now I've been writing this very gay, magical, gangster and culty take on Final Fantasy XV with my boyfriend and just fell in love with Somnus Lucis Caelum who nobody has any insight about him than to make him the Mordred to Ardyn's Arthur, which is a strange flex, but okay, I thought about what if I wrote a Dark Age prequel about Ardyn and Somnus, but Ardyn becomes king and Somnus his shogun and they play games of seduction and power because I'm twisted like that. Anyway...I was like I'm never going to write this and I have to keep making up characters based on FFXV characters and King Arthur tropes because there's not a lot of stories that take place during the Dark Ages, it's always some Roman Empire story, or High Middle Ages and FFXV gave no room for either society to happen after the fall of Solheim and the rise of King Somnus...so we left with Dark Ages, y'all, the King Arthur comparisons are obvious, but Ardyn is no Arthur and Somnus is no Mordred, Aera is only Guenevere if you make up an affair with Somnus, Gilgamesh is no Bedwyr/Bedivere, but uh...they both amputees and the oldest companions to their respective kings so...I guess. Anyway making an ancestor of Cor Leonis and deciding well he's Owain/Yvain, or am Ignis type as idk Sir Cai/Kay I guess, they both cook, but Cai's more like Seifer Almasy than any FF character... Anyway I'm losing people.

My plan was to just scrap the FFXV prequel, leave my Somnus ideas into Overtime (a gangster and gods story) and just plan an actual King Arthur adaptation. I'd have King Arthur the treasure hunter, leader of a warband turned founder of Camelot who fights giants, giant cats and dogheads, but also fights King Claudas of the Franks and King Aelle of the Saxons and Cerdic a Briton who puts in his lot with the Saxons, etc. It'd been a a glorified turf war, meanwhile Arthur's gotta make alliances with King Pelles, The Fisher King and his strange cult he's founded because, why yes I find the ends justifies the means prophecy of the Holy Grail Quest very culty because Christianity then does not resemble it now. Meanwhile you got the secondary plots of Mordred, Gawain, Lancelot, Percival, Tristam and other's going on because they matter and too many modern King Arthur stories sideline the knights.

So many have always sidelined Mordred as a final boss eldritch abomination in mortal flesh conceived of sin and give him no personality, or complex motives, or even just a relationship with Arthur. I also have noticed the general sidelining of Lancelot, or give him a chad villain upgrade if you must include him at all, and the villainizing of Gawain to the point that you don't even have to have Mordred, or Agravain as a catalyst shit stirrer in court, just slap Gawain's name on Liam Neeson in a top knot and you're good. Mordred can just be a child offscreen until last act...fuck that, while Morgan Le Fay can either be a villainess plotting her cabal through men, or a well-intentioned, ineffectual idiot. Fuck that.

Now Hollywood just be doing King Arthur first acts that suck ass, only for said director to get rewarded failing upwards by giving this same jerk the Aladdin remake. The tonally shitty, crammed in blockbuster mess of a cliche heroe's journey that sucks.

With that background I was excited for The Green Knight. I read an illustrative version as a kid, I read Tolkien's translation as a teenager, I read Simon Armitage's superior, but with liberties taken translation. I was prepped to go knowing that indie, or not they were going to make changes to weave the disjointed poem together. I'm excited that because this movie exists Project Guternberg's finally thrown Jessie Weston's prose rendition up on their website. I'll be reading that at some point when this blows over.

The movie adaptation makes a lot of...choices, many I wouldn't love, but would forgive had their been a payoff. There was none.

The journey was fine, the cinematography was a breath of fresh air after crappy slo mo, glossy action scenes ruined another. Guys, I don't think I want to see a Zack Snyder Excalibur, it'll marginally be better than Guy Ritchie, but that ain't saying anything. Leave Excalibur to the post-Star Wars 80s where it is impeccable for it's time. I liked Green Knight's breathable pacing, it's color palette's in the forests and mountains made up for the muddy grey of every Ridley Scott send up in the castles and villages in every other Dark Ages/Medieval story in the last I don’t know since the shitty 00′s. For all the dark tones when there was blues, greens, yellows or reds, they were vibrant in this movie to contrast the gloom of Britain. The soundtrack was good. This isn't all what makes a movie, but it enhances it so let's get to the story and what I did and didn't like.

Things I Liked: Gawain is still a novice in his career The Costume Dressing Everyone pronounces Gawain's name different. I pronounce it like Gwayne, or Guh Wayne, but here you got Gowen (like Owen), Gowan (like Rowan), or even Garlon who I'm pretty sure is the Fisher King's heir in some versions of that Arthurian story, so uh... The reference to Arthur slaying 960 men with his bare hands (Nennius for the win!) The Waste Land that is implied to be a site of a battle (an important aspect of the Arthurian landscape) The Fox companion No long grisly, drawn out hunting scenes. The Fox lives! No misogynist speeches

Things I'm Mixed: This being a dream, is the magic real? Are the giants? Is the Green Knight a figment of Gawain's imagination from a spell Morgan casted in him to hallucinate? Is Lord and Lady also figments? It's...a way to interpret the poem, but lazy and I don't see why it's got to all fantasy, or all dream...this movie makes it too vague you're stuck picking one camp than to accept it's a fantasy with dream and hallucinatory sequences.

Things I'm Meh: Morgan Le Fay as Gawain's mom. Look I fucking hate Morgause as a character and these two get merged and steal each other's aspects so much at this point the difference is who did they marry, King Urien or King Lot? Both are attributed to being Mordred's mom, Mordred is Gawain's brother...both practice magic depending on certain incarnations, both love and hate Arthur their brother and are in conflict with him. Saint Winifred. I actually liked this sequence, but I don't appreciate her as the tacked on wife in the later dream sequence as like...a contrast between the wife you should marry than the whore next door you don't respect anyway? I don't even know what lesson I'm supposed to get out of the damn dream sequence, or any of it? That Gawain should've married his girlfriend and then he'd be a just ruler? That he shouldn't be king? That he'd never have to make the same heartless, impartial choices? I don't know, he seemed like a king doing king shit because guess what? It never gets easier. Wars will be waged. The world didn't become better because he married the right woman, respected her and lived in obscurity. The world didn't become better because he made her his queen. We certainly don't know the world would be better Gawain had his head chopped off and dead XP They never reveal the Lord and the Green Knight as one and the same because of this shit.

Things I Hated: Arthur withdraws from the challenge because he's old. In poem he takes it on and Gawain takes it so he don't have to and he finds himself more disposable than the king. Gawain only takes the challenge because of arrogance. Arthur and Gawain had no prior personal relationship. I'd not have hated this so much if it wasn't compounded by it cancelling out the first two things. Gawain is portrayed as having no respect for his woman, or any woman, maybe his mother? He has to be pushed by Winifred to regain her head. Gawain is portrayed as arrogant, covetous and ready to pass the buck, or the bare minimum than have any honor or decency. It didn't matter the kid in the wasteland was shithead bandit, the way Gawain acted towards him, when he gets robbed, it almost feels like he deserved it and Gawain doesn't learn a damn lesson. I'll admit him taking the sword to cut his ropes and cutting his hands was a neat sequence, it shows him go from stupid, to almost clever and having will to survive...you know traits he had in the poem, but he stops showing these traits or growing. Basically Gawain has to be dragged kicking and screaming to help people and shows no fortitude when facing temptation, or when showing respect towards others, it's exhausting. You don't make this kind of journey story without character growth. Why are you skipping this? Also is it just me, or is this like when you take Frank Miller Batman and transport him onto a Bill Finger story? This is at best Thomas Malory Gawain (and this is charitable) transported on the earlier Pearl Poet's story. Stop it. It's not tonally correct and goes at odds with the story and the set up characterization you'd need to tell it. Speaking of which, you know how I get through the oof... of Liam Neeson Gawain in Excalibur? By pretending he Agravain instead. Here...I don't even think Gawain could pass as Mordred in spite of his covetous nature, lust and entitlement. Why? because I don't think even Mordred is this dumb to warrant this hubris. Essel being invented as a tacked on love interest just to be shit on utterly and for what? I don't think I have much commentary here as there is no Essel I'm aware of to compare, or stack up. I just notice this trope of like...usually if you include a sex worker in Hollywood she often has a heart of gold, she often has her own sense of values that goes at odds with society, but is more true and less hypocritical than a privileged lady’s. I thought that's what they would've done with the added trope of back at home sweetheart to contrast and pit her against the despicable femme fatale of Lady Bertilak and her adultery and her ladyship...and I'm glad they didn't...but you did nothing with Essel than to shit on her for existing when you made her exist, you know. Lady Bertilak being portrayed as the seductress devil incarnate. Look I know adultery is a touchy taboo, but uh her and Gawain hit it off in the poem, dammit! Her values and his values come to clash, but here it's played off as Gawain is stupid and covetous and Lady Bertilak wants to prove something because...? If my brother's theory that she's a figment of Morgan Le Fay's magic, then I'll take this as a lesson of Gawain is impulsive and covetous and his mom knows it, but he don't want to fuck his mom, but he wants her power, and Morgan wants to teach him a lesson... I guess. Hey we don't have misogynist speeches in this movie, but we'll make sure to have the movie drip with it with no point, or commentary. Pass. Lord guilting, extracting and initiating the same sex kiss and only once. Poem automatically better that Gawain don't have to keep being reminded to keep his part of the bargain and he does it willingly more than once. What he doesn't do is give up his belt...gods how did we get more homophobic as a society that the homoeroticism here is worse? Catholics of the middle ages officially had no issue doing same sex, passionate kissing until it lead to sex. The Ending: The gods damn ending. In the movie as is, Gawain waits to uphold his end of the bargain and get his head chopped off. He imagines, even though we don't get any fuzzy or distortion to indicate this is a dream, but I already knew this was coming, he runs away and comes home, is regarded a hero, he sees his lady, takes her from behind and if you saw Brokeback Mountain (I didn't, but DJ has) you know this is a sign of disrespect to women. He gets her knocked up, pays her off for the kid she wants to keep, he is crowned king, marries the ghostly saint lady he helped retrieve her head earlier from a lake in the movie (this right here is the damn tip off). There's no more dialogue by this point and everything is montaging, so you know by now it's a dream, though nothing is out of focus. He rules as a heartless king, his whore son dies from war he waged, he has a daughter, his wife dies. Gawain then takes off the belt that would've saved his life and his head falls off. This would've been the one good twist, except... In this sequence of events he never had his head cut off so uh... now we back in present day. He decides not to bitch out, Green Knight in a sexy way is like "now off with your head," movie cuts to credits with no resolve...uh what the fuck? What the fuck? This is not good. You wasted the one twist in your dream when idk, you could've...

How I'd fix it: No dream sequence at all. No Incident At Owl Creek twist. Gawain comes home a hero and survivor of this game and ordeal. He wears this belt of shame. He becomes a well-renowned knight, but he bears a shame. One day he goes to take off his belt and his head falls off because he cheated to get this belt and to survive this encounter. There. Done. Improved your high concept movie that couldn't play any of the lessons straight from the damn poem without making everyone an asshole for no reason! Ugh! But nope you had to end it on we don’t know if Gawain lives or dies...because...it's dream magic made from his momma's witchcraft...?

Last Thoughts So then post-credits scene because Marvel because Pirates Of The Caribbean existed. A white girl who looks nothing like Gawain's daughter we see who didn’t pay off, or any child I can remember through this whole movie picks up King Arthur's crown that dream Gawain inherited and puts it on her head. Who is this girl? Are we gonna have an indie equivalent of of the Marvel Movie Universe/Universal Horror Monsters thing with ancient British legends? We gonna get a Life Of Saint Patrick next that crosses over? I don't know. What is this?

[staytheb]

Elusive

Pairing: TXT’s Yeonjun x OC [Chaeyeon] Genre: college!au, slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 4,580 Summary: Yeonjun and Chaeyeon are just friends, but it could be a little more than that. Well, maybe more for Yeonjun as Chaeyeon’s a bit oblivious.

Warning: none... i think. lol

hi! so i got to writing about Yeonjun from TXT! so the group has been removed from RESERVED and over to INACTIVE for now as i still dunno how often i will write with them in mind, but this came about and i’m still learning the members so this may not be as accurate. then again, this is a re-work of my other story Exclusive which only features one pairing and not a second one like the original. anyways, hopefully all my re-works can be done by the end of the year and to include more groups to write for as well. other than that, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

"You've got to be kidding me." Chaeyeon said in disbelief upon arriving early to her 8AM class.

Apparently it had been cancelled for the remainder of the week and she totally forgot about it.

"I really need to pay better attention."

Running a hand through her hair she heard a chuckle from behind her and turned around to see her classmate and friend, Yeonjun, walking up to her with a bubble tea in each hand.

"You're cute."

Chaeyeon made a face upon hearing his compliment.

"I'm not."

"Anyways, good morning." He greeted with a cheery attitude.

Chaeyeon frowned knowing that for her it was not a good morning.

"It's not. Anyways, why are you here?"

"To hang out with you since I knew you forgot that this class was cancelled for the rest of the week."

He grinned as Chaeyeon rolled her eyes.

"Oh wow, the great and mighty Choi Yeonjun gracing me with his royal presence. Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness."

Yeonjun's excited expression dampened a bit.

"Gee, thanks, Chae. I was gonna give you this taro milk tea to make you feel better, but instead I'll enjoy it myself."

He smirked as he took a sip out of the purple drink.

"Ah, so delicious."

"Go ahead."

Chaeyeon shrugged as she walked right pass him.

"I'll buy myself something else and kill time before my next class."

Yeonjun followed after her with a pout.

"You do know that the taro was for you, right?"

"I do, but you put your nasty germs on it and so I don't want it."

"But you share things with everyone else though?"

"I know, but you're a different story."

"Then you can have the other one."

He offered her the greenish-brown drink.

"No thanks. I don't really like mint chocolate as bubble tea."

"It's not like I have cooties, Chae."

"Um, Jun, have you forgotten about your fans?"

She shot him a look.

"Because I'm not tryna get killed, which I'm surprised that there is none lurking around sending me death glares."

"Stop. I don't have fans." Yeonjun disagreed as he brushed off the topic.

"Whatever you wanna call them, they won't kill you. You're my friend and I haven't seen them give you any dirty looks."

"One, they're two-faced because when you turn around to look at them their so-called angelic faces appear. Two, I'm a female friend that's closer to you than they'll ever be to which to this day I still don't know how we're friends, honestly. We don't really have that much in common."

"Friends don't always have to have similar interests, Chaeyeon. It's mutual respect and a connection. Anyways, is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?" Yeonjun interjected upon hearing the part about them being friends.

"You can take it however you want."

Chaeyeon chuckled before continuing.

"Anyways, true, but maybe it's because you always copy my homework and sit next to me in class when you can literally sit anywhere else."

"Because you have better handwriting and you don't stare at me constantly."

"I wonder why."

She rolled her eyes before shooting him a look.

"Psh. And here you say they're not your fans."

Serena then took the purple drink from him and took a sip to assure him of their close relationship.

"Thanks though, but you still owe me something to eat from last time."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You won't stop reminding me. Anyways, forget about them. They're not important."

He dismissed the topic about the fans.

"I'll meet you in the library at our usual spot then, yeah?"

Yeonjun informed her as the two split in different directions. While Chaeyeon was casually making her way up the stairs towards the library she suddenly heard her name being shouted from behind her. Just as she had turned around to see who it was she was suddenly tackled to the ground with the person on top of her while her drink fumbled away from her.

"Smile!"

The male announced happily as he held up his phone with one hand while the other hand held a placard to take a self-portrait of himself and Chaeyeon which she immediately partially blocked her face in time.

"Get off, Sim Jaeyun!"

Chaeyeon tried shoving the friend and classmate of hers off of her.

Jaeyun chuckled nervously as he obeyed while backing away from Chaeyeon with a good amount of space between them as another friend and classmate, Park Jongseong, joined them a moment later while catching his breath.

"Sorry, Chaeyeon. I tried, but once he saw you he ran so fast that I couldn't keep up." Jongseong explained once he caught his breath before a cheeky smile appeared on his face.

"Also, I wanted to see what would happen and the outcome was hilarious."

"You're a brat, Jongseong." Chaeyeon scoffed while fixing herself, but shot the two a friendly look.

"What are you two doing out and about so early in the morning?"

"Trying to complete the scavenger list." Jaehyun answered as he held up his placard.

"I really want this customized leather jacket just for Beta Heta Mu members."

"Of course. You're cute, Jaeyun."

Chaeyeon smiled before her eyes landed on the boba that Yeonjun had given her.

"But you owe me a drink though."

"I will if only..."

"If only what?"

"Basically Jaeyun wants you to help him out with gaining points." Jongseong answered with a blank look.

"That's why he ran so fast to catch you."

"The last time I helped I still didn't get my reward."

Jaeyun nervously rubbed the back of his neck before casting the female a pleading look.

"I will double the reward. Please help me out, Chaeyeon, especially since you're a Nu Tau Zeta member and it'll double or even triple the points."

"Ugh, fine, but I'm only gonna do just like two with you since you tackled me."

She then glared at him.

"You already took one, so you're left with one now."

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Jaeyun thanked her while wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

"You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah. You're lucky that you're cute. Anyways, just tell me one of them that you need to do."

"I don't get why you put up with it when you know that you don't want to do it." Jongseong stated as Chaeyeon shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess you gotta give good karma to receive good karma."

"Wow. So it's basically for your own selfish gain?"

"Sure, why not? Don't judge me, Jongseong."

"You're cute, Chaeyeon."

He laughed as she narrowed her eyes at Jongseong.

"You want to do a few tasks, too, don't you?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"If there's a customized leather jacket, then yes."

Jongseong laughed with a nod.

"You caught me."

"Anyways, I already did the 'Tackle the opposite gender'. Let's see what else I can do." Jaeyun muttered as he checked his list and marked off the ones that he had already done.

"Oh, how about this one, Chaeyeon?"

Jaeyun showed Chaeyeon one of the tasks as she nodded.

"Sure, Jaeyun."

Jaehun happily got his phone ready to take the picture as Chaeyeon endured Beta Heta Mu's scavenger list for the sake of friendship while partially covering her face since she didn't want to get exposed either. She ended up doing a few more for both Jongseong and Jaeyun. The things she does in wanting to help out friends since the tasks weren't breaking laws or humiliating towards the members or others involved. Something she definitely gave the fraternity credit for. After that the trio bid goodbyes with Chaeyeon picking up her wasted boba drink to toss before making her way inside the library.

Yeonjun entered the quiet area where he and Chaeyeon met often in the library while spotting her sleeping with her arms folded on the table and using them as pillows. He chuckled at the sight while placing a ham and cheese bagel sandwich along with an iced americano by her things. Once he settled in the chair next to her while taking a sip of his own iced americano did Chaeyeon stir awake. She looked over at him sleepily while scrunching her nose at the aroma of the drinks.

"Gah, I hate the smell of coffee."

Yeonjun's eyebrows furrowed.

"I thought you like coffee?"

"I actually don't like coffee at all."

She pushed her coffee away and towards Yeonjun while picking up the bagel to eat.

"Thanks."

He stared at Chaeyeon questioningly in mid-bite of his own ham and cheese bagel sandwich.

"Wait a minute, Chae. Are you telling me that you hate coffee despite me buying it for our study sessions together since we've met?"

"Uh, yeah, basically." Chaeyeon answered with a sheepish laugh.

"Sorry, not sorry?"

"Dude, why didn't you just tell me? You honestly finished it every time or left a little bit and I didn't think anything of it."

"Because you genuinely looked pleased every time you gave it to me. It was cute and I just didn't have it in me to tell you the truth."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"You'll get over it. Anyways, Jun, now you have double the coffee for your day today."

Yeonjun side-eyed her while taking the other drink back and taking a quick sip from it.

"What else are you hiding from me?"

"A lot of things." 

Chaeyeon cast him a secretive smile as she continued eating the bagel. Yeonjun left the subject alone as he brought out his materials to study, a loose piece of paper floated to the ground and Chaeyeon went to retrieve it instead before her friend could. Upon closer inspection she realized that it was the same BHM scavenger list that Jaehyun had.

"I forgot you're a Beta Heta Mu member." Chaeyeon remarked while placing the paper on top of his bag.

"So you're doing this, too?"

"Something like that."

He picked up the paper to scan it.

"I haven't really started, but I don't think I'm gonna do it either."

"Why not?"

"I don't have time. I really need to pass my classes this semester. I barely managed last semester."

"It's easier to do with a friend or two, Yeonjun. The scavenger hunt list, I mean. I'm sure you have some."

Yeonjun rolled his eyes.

"I do, Chaeyeon, but my schedule doesn't correlate well with theirs."

She glanced at him curiously.

"Do you want to complete the list?"

"Well yeah, I do, but I don't have the time to do so."

"What do you get out of this list if you complete the whole thing?"

"Well the points I accumulate will give me entries to the End of the School Year raffle."

"But there's something else that you want, right?"

Yeonjun smiled embarrassed as the thought of what he wanted popped into his head.

"Yeah."

"And that is?"

Chaeyeon tried to get it out of him.

"Tell me and I'll help you."

"You will?" He asked shocked before eyeing her suspiciously.

"Wait, why? You would rather be in bed right now than doing anything really productive."

"I have my moments, Jun, and I feel like doing something productive today besides school stuff at the moment."

"Y'know there's like more than fifty things on that list, right?"

"True, but it's mainly to help out a friend. Also I know that you want this. So what is it?"

"If I complete that list or score the most points out of anyone for that list, then I get to be center for the group photo when school's over."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Oh and I get to host the final house banquet this school term and the first house banquet next school term."

"Okay, that's good."

Yeonjun looked at his friend unsure.

"Are you sure you want to help me?"

"I mean, not really, but I don't mind helping out others from time to time." 

Chaeyeon shrugged with a small smile.

"Alright, thanks, but I do need a date though for the banquet."

"And I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Could I ask you in advance since you won't be all..."

"Fangirl mode?"

She cocked a brow as he nodded with a laugh.

"Yeah."

"You're cute, Jun. See, even you're thinking those people are fans now."

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but looked at her with hopeful eyes despite feeling a bit giddy inside.

"So what do you say? Will you be my date?"

"I'll think about it."

He scoffed at her response as Chaeyeon chuckled.

"Anyways, let's go make you center, Choi Yeonjun, and a banquet host."

The pair got to working on the tasks that were quick and easy to do at the moment. After helping Yeonjun complete almost everything listed that she was comfortable with, Chaeyeon went to her last class for the day. Afterwards she had tutoring sessions in the library. Just as the tutoring ended Chaeyeon felt her phone vibrate. She ignored it since it was only a text message, but when it vibrated several more times she went on ahead to check it out while gathering her things and headed out of the library. Chaeyeon received several messages from her sorority's president, Im Jinah, and upon scanning the last one it was informing her to report to the president as soon as possible.

"Hello, Chaeyeon." Jinah greeted her with a smile as she motioned for her to sit.

Chaeyeon noticed the others of her sorority council in the room as she took a seat.

"Take a breath and slowly exhale. It's nothing bad or serious, so don't stress about that." Jinhee, the vice-president, chuckled as the treasurer, Jiyeon, smiled.

"Yeah, it's only to discuss attendance for the social gatherings this school term."

Chaeyeon relaxed and looked at her fellow sisters calmly awaiting permission to speak when prompted to.

"Now, Chaeyeon," Miso, the secretary, began with a gentle look in her direction, "We know you wanna be low- key and we're okay with that."

"Yeah, like super low-key under the radar type." Jinhee added with a laugh before speaking again, "But we definitely would appreciate it more if you attended one more event before the school term ends."

Jiyeon nodded in agreement.

"We acknowledged the fact that you do, do your part as a fellow sister of Nu Tau Zeta and haven't caused us any scandals or embarrassments since being with us."

She then cast a look at her fellow council members.

"Still..." She trailed off as Jinah continued instead.

"As the president of Nu Tau Zeta, I'm ordering you to attend one more social event as per socializing with those around you not in Nu Tau Zeta. Plus, you'll need to stay for more than an hour. Not just make appearances to several attendees and leave soon after."

Jinah smiled as Chaeyeon made a face causing everyone else in the room to laugh.

"You don't have to mingle much, just chill or relax and eat good food. Just stay past an hour and you're set to leave."

Chaeyeon nodded.

"Alright, will do, Jinah."

"Think of it this way, Chaeyeon, by joining a sorority you're committing yourself to a lifetime of network connections."

Miso grinned as Chaeyeon nodded with a smile.

"I know."

"Wonderful. That is all."

Chaeyeon was dismissed and returned to her room for a quick nap.

"Alright, fellas, it's officially midnight and the votes are accounted for and the results are now out!"

Yeonjun and the rest of his brothers awaited the results of the overall winner of Beta Heta Mu's Scavenger Hunt.

"Who will be our number one picture center and banquet host this school term and next school term?!"

Yeonjun anxiously awaited the announcement.

"Number one is..." The member paused for dramatic effect.

"It's Choi Yeonjun with a whopping nine hundred and nine points!"

Everyone congratulated Yeonjun as he was shocked and surprised that he actually won the scavenger hunt. He later learned from his president that Chaeyeon was an elusive member of Nu Tau Zeta and that a majority of the campus forget she's a member. The Nu Tau Zeta's president assisted in adding the sorority into the fraternity's scavenger hunt and was the one to review all the photos to see if any sorority members were featured in any of the pictures. Anyways, Chaeyeon's elusiveness allowed Yeonjun to win. Yeonjun smiled, causing him to think seriously about her.

Chaeyeon's phone buzzed and she reached out to find her phone to silence the call. She almost fell back asleep, but her phone buzzed once more and she silenced it once again without bothering to look at the caller ID again. Chaeyeon sighed when her mobile went off a third time and she repeated the same action as before. She felt it vibrate and dinged a second later to notify her that she now got a message and it repeated three more times and Chaeyeon knew that she wasn't going back to sleep peacefully unless she put it on 'do not disturb' and only set it for alarms instead.

Picking up her phone to do just that, Chaeyeon was surprised that it was already so late and that it was Yeonjun contacting her. He usually just messaged her once or twice. Even then he hardly ever called her unless he needed something. Or wanting to be an annoying brat to bother her, but it didn't happen often. Just as she was about to set her phone to 'do not disturb', Yeonjun's name popped up indicating that he was calling her for a fourth time. Chaeyeon contemplated whether to ignore it or not, but decided to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Can we meet?" Yeonjun asked her out of the blue.

"Bruh, it's like one in the morning."

"Please, Chaeyeon."

Chaeyeon was about to decline when she heard his next words and reconsidered his suggestion.

"I got your favorite boba."

"I'm listening."

"You're cute. You know that, right, Chae?"

"I'm not, Jun, but whatever."

Yeonjun chuckled before speaking again.

"I also have your favorite snacks. So will you meet with me please?"

Chaeyeon thought about it before speaking a few seconds later.

"Honestly, it's late, Yeonjun, and yesterday's events were super eventful for me. I just kinda wanna sleep before classes start later today."

There was a long pause and Chaeyeon believed he may have hung up on her or she may have dozed off for a bit, but he was still on call with her and she gave him a moment to speak again. Still, Yeonjun didn't speak and she wondered if he had dozed off instead.

"Yeonjun?"

"Hmm?" He hummed a few seconds later.

"Oh, you're still awake."

"Yeah, I'm still awake."

Silence fell between them again until Chaeyeon broke it.

"Do you still wanna meet right now, Jun?"

"Yes, Chae, I do, but I also don't want to trouble you if you don't want to. I know how important sleep is for you."

"True for sleep, but you've already called and messaged me, Yeonjun."

Chaeyeon sat up and ran a hand through her hair slowly.

"Plus, I kinda can't go back to sleep right now."

"I'm sorry, Chae."

She could hear the sincerity in his voice and a small smile graced her lips.

"It's fine, Yeonjun. I'll get ready after you tell me where you wanna meet?"

"Do you remember the place where we met the first time?" Yeonjun asked not hesitating to tell her the meeting point.

Just as Chaeyeon was about to reply she was distracted by the vibration sound and light blinking from her roommate, Nayoung's, phone across the room. She ignored it, replied back to Yeonjun that she did, and hung up.

"Um, is it right here?" Chaeyeon asked herself when she arrived outside the classroom that she had first met Yeonjun.

"Or was it at the library?"

She second guessed herself upon not exactly remembering which location it was that they had met first.

"Shit. I should've just asked him."

"You're cute."

She heard from behind and languidly turned to face Yeonjun.

"You know, Chaeyeon, if we were together, I would have to set your alarms for all of our anniversaries and add in notes of our special places." Yeonjun responded while appearing from around the corner of the building holding a bag of snacks and two bubble tea drinks in hand.

Chaeyeon laughed with a shrug.

"Luckily we aren't, huh? I'll be a lost cause if anyone was in a relationship with me." She admitted taking her boba from him along with the bag.

"Thank you, Jun."

"You're welcome, and you're not a lost cause, Chae, just forgetful. Super forgetful and clumsy. It's cute."

"True, but not the cute part."

The two began roaming the campus aimlessly.

"Anyways, why do you wanna meet so randomly?"

She nudged him after taking a sip of her bubble tea.

"Oh, did you win the list thing and now you're center and host?"

"Yeah. It's all thanks to you."

"I helped a little. It was all you, Yeonjun."

"Actually, I only won in the end because you were a Nu Tau Zeta member that helped double my points along with gaining secret bonus points."

"Ah, so now you know I'm part of a sorority."

He smiled, but was still left wondering what other things she kept hidden in general.

"I know it's none of my business, but I feel like there's a lot of things I still don't know about you."

"But isn't that better though?" Chaeyeon remarked not looking at him.

"The less you know, the less you are aware of things."

"Why do I have a feeling that there's another meaning to those words when its coming from you, Chae?"

Yeonjun looked at her with a curious look just as she turned to face him with a small smile.

"You're thinking too much, Yeonjun."

"I don't think I am. I feel like you've been hiding yourself from me or at least trying to keep yourself distant for some reason."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, but I would like to get to know you better."

"Isn't what we have good enough?"

"But what if I want more?"

Chayeon stopped walking with Yeonjun doing the same and they faced one another while she cast him a curious yet cautious glance.

"Why?"

"Why what?" He asked, confused.

"Why do you want more? Why do you wanna get to know me better? Why are you suddenly interested in my life? Why?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I have feelings for you?" Yeonjun answered with his own question instead.

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Yes, I am."

"Choi Yeonjun." Chaeyeon used his full name as a warning while Yeonjun did the same thing to mess with her.

"Lim Chaeyeon."

She narrowed her eyes at him with him shooting her a playful one.

"Out of all the girls and maybe guys in this school and your life, why me?"

"Honestly, I don't know, but here we are and all I know is that I like you and I would like to take our relationship to the next level."

"You do know that if we don't work out our friendship is ruined, right?"

"Chaeyeon, meeting you was fate. Becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control."

"Gosh, you're such a dork. I can't believe you would use that on me." 

Chaeyeon playfully punched his shoulder when she heard those words fall out of his mouth with Yeonjun laughing sheepishly.

"Okay, maybe I picked up a few things, but I really do mean them."

"Seriously though, love is a little too strong right now. We're just gonna go with like, okay?"

"So does that mean you also like me, too?"

"Well, I never actually thought about it beyond that or anything." Chaeyeon coyly responded as Yeonjun rolled his eyes knowingly.

"Nayoung was right. You really do like playing hard to get."

"I do not."

She then narrowed her eyes at him.

"You should not listen to Nayoung. She likes messing with me."

"Oh, yeah?" He answered with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he neared her and brought his face closer to Chaeyeon's.

"I started noticing all of your little signs yesterday that Nayoung pointed out to me when she told me, but thought it was just your introverted self at work."

He smiled wider.

"But now I'm beginning to think otherwise."

Chaeyeon slightly pushed him away while taking a step back herself to put some distance between them.

"Whatever, Yeonjun. Is this the only reason you asked me to meet you at one in the morning so you can clarify my feelings for you?"

"Partially." He answered with a chuckle before continuing.

"But I was hoping you'll actually say yes in being my date for the banquet."

"What if your fans kill me when they find out about us or whatever. I'ma die at the hands of some stupid girls that only like you superficially."

Yeonjun started laughing and Chaeyeon punched him again.

"Seriously, Yeonjun, it's not a laughing matter. I'm being serious about my future life here if we actually get together."

"I know, Chae, I know."

He calmed down from laughing before reaching a hand out to pull her body against his.

"And I'll be here to protect you."

"Couldn't you've just said that without pulling me against you?" She asked him while becoming aware of their close proximity.

"No, then I wouldn't be able to do this easily."

"Do w-"

Yeonjun pressed his lips against Chaeyeon's, silencing her in mid-sentence. When he pulled away, breaking the kiss, her first response was to slap his chest after regaining her senses back and he laughed.

"I can't believe Nayoung basically told you about my kissing preferences." Chaeyeon stated while feeling all sorts of emotions building up inside her and she didn't know which one to express more.

"Well she did tell me that I would have to make the first move since you would continue to run away from it."

"Of course she would."

"Anyways, now that I got the elusive Lim Chaeyeon to myself, you think she'll open up to me more now?"

"I dunno. She has a mind of her own, but I'll ask and get back to you as soon as possible on what she says."

Chaeyeon smiled after calming down the feelings inside of her.

"Although she does say and think that you're cute though."

Yeonjun gave her a look and she giggled at his reaction while hooking their arms together and leading them to walk aimlessly once more in a random direction after taking another sip of her bubble tea drink.

"C'mon. Let's just take it slow for now. It's too early to process all of this. We can deal with this when it's later in the afternoon or something."

"How about an official date?"

Yeonjun offered as Chaeyeon side-eyed him with a playful smile gracing her lips.

"How about no?"

"I respect your decision, but you're really not making this easier to take it a step further."

Chaeyeon chuckled as she took a sip. Yeonjun still didn't give up.

"I'll show you that it'll be worth it in the end, Chaeyeon."

"Okay, Yeonjun, and I'll try my best to be more open with you as best as I can."

"It's a start."

Yeonjun grinned happily as Chaeyeon smiled with a shake of her head.

"Yeah, it is."

[coraxaviary]

Sister-in-Arms | CHAPTER 1: Toccoa, GA

(Part I, Run the Gauntlet)

Summary: June arrives at Camp Toccoa. 

Word Count: 5.8K 

AO3 | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Author’s Note: Welcome to my main fic. This is the start of a long journey. I am proud of this fic, and I hope you like it. If you have any questions, refer to my first post or shoot me a question. Once I get about five chapters out, I’ll start posting on AO3.

Warnings: None

Taglist: @keoghans​ @papercinders​ (ask to be added)

.

June Hazel Diedtrich stood at the depot in Toccoa, Georgia, wondering how she’d gotten there so soon.

Cars rushed by; buses passed and young men crowded the corners of the plaza, supply trucks being loaded and unloaded. More than a few men in uniform were about the area, their jackets and pants creased and tucked, berets cocked at a slight angle. The town was rushed, hot, and dusty, but bursting at the seams with a dynamic energy: the energy of hope, and dually the uncomfortable undercurrent of lingering expectation. 

Most of the men would eventually ship out. Maybe it would be months, or even years. But it was going to happen, and with combat came the unavoidable reality of pain and death that were the bounty of war. 

June gripped the handles of her suitcase tighter, eyeing the military men, most her age or only slightly older. They looked energetic and diligent. Spirits were high. And yet the feeling of a held breath remained.

Such was the nature of a nation at war. The Japanese had made sure of that.

June took a deep breath of the Southern air, the dry smell of red dust drifting from the ground. A few pigeons pecked errantly at the dirt, and some flock birds chittered overhead from rooftop to rooftop. A car horn honked; someone shouted in return. Boxes and crates knocked together.

She craned her head, looking for a taxi. She didn’t expect many: Toccoa was a sort of backwater area except for the military presence that brought in a lot of soldiers and trucked-in supplies. She’d have to wait for the bus.

Some other women milled about. June figured at least some of them might know the bus schedule, and she approached one woman dressed similarly to her – in a light cotton shirt and a knee-length skirt – and cleared her throat. 

“Excuse me, would you happen to know the bus schedule?” June asked, already feeling lost in the new environment. 

The other woman turned around. She was blonde, tall, and her red lips curved into a pleasant expression. 

“Sure. There’s a bus coming in a few minutes, heading out to the base,” she said with a mildly Southern twang. “Where are you headed?”

June exhaled, relieved that there was a bus. “I’m trying to get to the base, too.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, um…” she trailed off. 

“June. June Diedtrich,” June supplied. 

“Nice to meet you, June. I’m Bea,” she responded cheerily. 

“Likewise,” June said, adjusting her sliding grip on her suitcase handle as her palms started to sweat in the hot Georgia air. 

“You know, it’s always nice to see a new face around here,” Bea said, smoothing down a piece of hair that had come free from its pin. “Sometimes it gets a little old seeing the same few people.” She glanced quickly at June, and added, “Working up at the base is nice and rewarding, because we’re helping the war effort. Never bad work, I’ll assure you.”

June breathed a brief laugh. “I’m sure it’s that way,” she said, not sure how to relate to the woman who most likely assumed June was there for secretary work. “Good all the same.”

“I wouldn’t want to scare you off on your first day,” Bea said. “Typing isn’t bad overall.”

June watched Bea’s face, careful not to encourage any new questions about her position. She was sure it was coming, though, and she prepared for how to answer inquiries about the place she was stationed. Bea was going to ask sooner or later. 

“Are you a typist?” Bea asked innocently, and June straightened, breathing deeply. 

“No, I’m not,” she said, not sure how to respond. “I’m not working in the office.”

Bea looked at her curiously. “Nurse? I didn’t take you for the nursing type, but I suppose we could take on more nurses. The men are always getting injured out there, God knows how.”

June looked at Bea, careful not to interrupt, trying to find a way to explain that no, she was not going to be a nurse. She was not going to shuttle papers, pound a typewriter, or drive jeeps – half of which women were rarely permitted to do. She would not be a WAC or a WASP or a WAVES woman or another ridiculous acronym, though God knew they were needed too.

Bea kept talking, and June took that as a good sign. 

“... last week, another one came in with a broken leg. And that was after he’d been denying that he needed to get it fixed, can you believe it? The nurses down at the aid station must get at least three sprained ankles a day, the way it would seem.” June understood then that Bea was an avid talker. “There ain’t much scrapping, between the boys, you know, but there are some mysterious injuries that the nurses gotta figure out. Gosh, how does a guy get all those bruises?” she finished, looking to June for some kind of acknowledgement. 

June coughed into her sleeve hollowly, to stall for time, and then got out a weak, “I wouldn’t know.” Which wasn’t exactly true because James taught her to sock a guy in the eye – and knee a guy in the balls – but June didn’t know a broken arm from a dislocated elbow. “I’m not a nurse,” she said.

“Oh, then where are you? Do you drive?” Bea asked, clearly confused. “Have you not been assigned yet? Because then I’d think you’d just be a typist like me,” she said nonchalantly. She picked a fold out of her skirt and let it fall back against her legs. “Do you know yet?” she asked, blue eyes searching June’s face.

“I’m―” June started, when the bus pulled in, in front of the depot. She glanced at Bea. “It’s complicated.”

“I can handle complicated,” she said brightly. “My dad is a biology professor down at Emory.” The bus came and the women began filing inside one at a time. “I mean, he talks about very complicated things,” she said, connecting her anecdote to the conversation. “You can tell me once we’re seated.”

June stood in line with Bea, trying to come up with a way to explain. Despite her preparation for Toccoa, both mentally and physically, June somehow neglected to prepare a predetermined statement on why she was there. She’d glossed over it, probably assuming that she’d just be inducted into the barracks fairly quickly without much prelude. With the road to Toccoa looming in front of her, June was forced to reconsider how optimistic that thought had been. 

She moved through the bus silently, sitting down mutely beside Bea, and when all the women were on, the bus started to drive down the road. June felt more than a few curious looks to her, the newcomer. 

“Well,” June started. Bea looked at her expectantly. “It’s hard to explain,” she said, betraying a little frustration on her face. 

“Aw, honey, are you trying to get a job near a husband or something? I hadn’t pegged you for the already-married type, but with a face like that, I’d be married outta school too,” Bea said.

“I’m here to join the Army,” June said quietly. 

Bea looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, girl, but the Women’s Army Corps doesn’t have much of a presence at camp, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Bea shifted, placing her bag on her lap. “You sure you’re in the right place?”

June pressed her lips together. “Mm, no. Not the WAC. The Army. The Paratroopers, to be exact.” The truth, she found, was best in some situations.

Bea squinted, trying to make sense of the statement. “You’re stationed with the Paratroopers? What, writing papers?” She half-laughed, expecting something out of June. 

June cringed internally. “No, I’m going to be billeted with the men, training. Basic training. At least, that’s the plan. After that, I’m trying to become a combat paratrooper.” It was hard for June to say at this point for some reason, but she pushed out the words with diligence, as if putting them out into the world for the first time would make them more true. Her future had never seemed more remote, though. She wished she could explain more, but the words didn't exist. It was a simple statement. “It’s the plan,” she ended, not knowing what else to say. One shoulder lifted in a shrug.

Bea blinked at her, and leaned back in her seat with eyebrows knitted together for a few long seconds. 

June looked concernedly at Bea, trying to gauge her reaction. Damn, if everyone reacted this way, June was going to have a hard year. Even worse, June realized, if she had this hard of a time telling people why she was here, it would be even harder than she expected. 

Pale grass blurred under the blue sky outside the windows. Sparse fences passed by, and then the rare supply truck or car. A tree appeared every moment or two, and June watched it all flow together after some time trying to clamp onto the image of the clouds or the birds. It was better to just watch from afar and see the colors blend.

“So, you want to do a man’s job?” Bea said slowly. 

June nodded.

Bea failed to say something multiple times, starting and stopping before settling on a phrase. “Why?” she got out. 

June saw confusion in Bea’s eyes. She searched for judgement, but there was none yet, mercifully so. 

“I want to make something of myself.”

That was what June’s father and younger brother had said when she was admitted into West Point. She was making something of herself, they’d said, and June took the phrase to heart. She was doing it alone, herself, and for her only. It turned into a mantra. She’d made something of herself yet: a girl from an apartment above a small grocery, smack-dab in the middle of the middle class, vying for a spot among the political and the academia. This time, she was aiming for a spot that many men didn’t even achieve. The paratroopers had one of the highest wash-out rates in the nation. She’d make it, just like she made it to West Point and out in three years. She’d do it, and make something of herself.

She’d do it, and maybe die trying.

Bea shifted somewhat uncomfortably, fiddling with her hands in her lap. June looked out the window, not as fidgety as before she’d explained, but still pulling at her fingers incessantly. 

“Why didn’t you want to be a WAC? It’s safer. As a woman, you know, you should be doing more appropriate things. The men fight. And we do our own fighting away from the front lines, but it’s just not holding a gun.” Bea’s voice was starting to rise in indignation.

June looked down, then decided to straighten and face Bea. This was June’s decision, and it had been approved by the military. She was going regardless of what Bea thought.

“How is this even possible?” spluttered Bea, in disbelief. “Who let you? And why do you feel the need to–to do something like this?”

June sighed, fearing the reaction. “I sent correspondences to the military base and some other branches. I got support from my local politicians. I suppose the West Point degree didn’t hurt,” she said, trying for some levity. 

Bea still looked concerned and scandalized. “West Point? You don’t mean–” Bea looked intently at June’s face. “You don’t mean you’re one of them?”

“The graduates this year?” June offered, neutrally.

Bea nodded, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I graduated with the class of ‘42. This month of June, actually.”

Bea wore the same expression on her face, half confused and half dismayed. June told herself that minds changed slowly. People like Bea were in the majority. Most Americans found any challenge to their status-quo unbearable. She was just like June’s mother when she’d been admitted.

And because Mom was against it, so was Sharon.

June had a very distinct memory of Sharon trying to talk her out of it.

“Mom doesn’t like it, you know,” she’d said, a frown on her face. “She says it’s ridiculous. Just go to University of California or something. You wouldn’t even have to go that far.” 

June told herself that she’d consider Cal. Her family had even visited – many of the young people from their area went there and it seemed like a natural progression for a girl like June. She didn’t like it – not because of the area or the attitude emanating from the school, but because for some reason, she’d already had her heart set on West Point. Assuming she got in. 

When June left for West Point, Mom cried and Sharon grudgingly gave her a hug. She left with a pit in her stomach. Leaving for Toccoa had created a similar reaction. 

“Stay safe,” her mother had said, probably hoping Toccoa would refuse June from the start, despite their promise in the letter to consider June’s military-style education. Sharon probably thought June would wash out. It was an elite division with high drop-out rates, after all. Paratroopers.

Paratroopers. The word was unfamiliar and sounded wrong. She figured the concept of dropping from the sky was in itself, wrong. Humans had figured out how to fly close to the sun and now they were falling voluntarily, too. 

June wasn’t really sure she could do it. This wasn’t West Point, where intellectual and memorization skills could supplement your success if your other scores were lacking. This was the Army. It was physical. It was about survival and combat. She couldn’t just be there, passive, and study at night to play catch-up. She had to take her future into her own hands, once again. 

It didn’t matter if she thought she could do it. It only mattered if she did it. 

And here she was, having a hard time explaining her situation to an amateur typist, God forbid her struggle when she got up to base.

June checked her watch. They were going to get there soon. 

Bea looked into June’s eyes suddenly. “I knew I saw you somewhere else. The newspapers…” she muttered, looking as if she didn’t know what else to say despite being full of questions. 

“I know it would be a lot less audacious of me to just stay on the home front.” June said, waiting for the storm. “That’s what people have already told me. You wouldn’t be the first.”

Bea furrowed her eyebrows again, taking in the grass and trees out the window. “No,” she said quietly, suddenly uncharacteristic. “No, I won’t say that.” She sat in silence for a while, and something came up on the horizon: a peaked hill, poking up from the trees and bushes, ringed with clouds and sitting against a blue sky. “Times are changing,” she said, shifting to look once again back at June. “You seem like a nice girl. I don’t think you’ll make it. You’ll drop out in a week or two, tops,” she said, shrugging, then paused. “But in the instance that you somehow make it, you’ll have done a great thing, female or not.”

June didn’t know what to say. No one had said anything like that to her. Be it with wonder or disgust, people who knew her story would always look at her with a sort of alien strangeness.

The bus was entering the base, and gates loomed in front of them. Wooden structures started to appear along the path, and men became more and more common along the path. The bus finally broke through the fading trees and the base was spread out before them: half paved, half dirt, with wood and brush and trucks everywhere. And the sheer volume of young men, all in uniform, all making their way to a specific destination. Each soldier here was here to train. 

June intended to become just like the men.

She’d almost forgotten about Bea beside her, and there was a brief touch on June’s hand as Bea got up to walk towards the front of the bus. 

“Wait,” June said. Bea turned around, expression unreadable. June couldn’t figure out whether Bea had concluded that she disliked her, but it didn’t matter. “I’ll see you,” she decided to say, the statement impersonal but not too remote, because in the back of her mind, June genuinely hoped she’d see Bea around base. She’d soon have no friends and have to start all over.

Bea gave her a half-smile. “You’ll know where to find me.”

And with that, June was the last woman on the bus. She made her way out in a daze, memorizing the leather of the seats with her fingers as she stepped out into the hot sun, the sounds of the base flowing over her. 

June stared up at the sky, trying to gather her thoughts. She was here to be like the other men. A girl named June couldn’t make this trip to the finish, unscathed. But maybe a soldier named Diedtrich could. 

She was here to fight, to learn to kill the enemy – to advance the mission of democracy throughout the quickly darkening age. The task of the U.S. Army was something huge and something glorious. 

If June’s nation was embarking on the greatest mission of faith and attrition on God’s good world, she wanted in. She wanted in, bad.

And here she was, with the hardest part far ahead.

♤

She found herself gawking at the place. The other women scattered quickly after leaving the bus, reporting for their jobs in various directions. June was left standing in the dust, taking in the huge hill rising above the camp, drowning in blue sky and flanked by hastily built wooden buildings.

A few groups of men – platoons – jogged past, running around the base. The pop-bang of rifle fire drifted distantly from somewhere to June’s north. Some yelling voices floated over the din of engines and footsteps.

A man came walking briskly out from a corner of one of the offices, in his service greens. He immediately spotted June and made a beeline towards her, dodging a passing truck. He came closer, and June noted the triple chevron on his shoulder and kept a smile to herself, preparation already paying off. Sergeant, she thought. He was dark blonde, of medium build, and tall. As he arrived in front of her, he slowed.

“Sergeant John Coates,” he said, extending a hand to her. June took it and gave a firm handshake. 

After a moment of indecision, June decided in a beat to introduce herself the civilian way. “June Diedtrich, sir,” she said with a smile. 

He nodded, already leaning around to take June’s suitcase. She pulled away. “That’s not necessary, but thank you,” she said hastily.

“Alright,” he said brightly, not looking put off. “I’m going to take you to Colonel Sink.” He turned away, starting up a cement path pointing away from the road.

June hauled her suitcase along, switching hands, and followed quickly after the Sergeant. Her heels clacked noticeably against the ground as she picked up speed in comparison to Coates’s boots. They were jump boots: the pride of parachutists and the envy of non-paratrooper infantrymen. June tore her eyes from Coates’s uniform when he spoke, suddenly aware that she was staring.

“So, you’re here to join the Army,” Coates commented, from a few paces ahead. June blinked in surprise. She figured no one would know other than Sink and some upper-division ranking officers. There was no way to tell, except for her suitcase, which wasn’t really an obvious indicator in itself. 

“Yes, I am, sir,” June said. 

“Interesting thing, a woman wanting to fight and all,” he said, voice curiously devoid of judgement. People always had to comment on the idea, and June expected nothing less of Coates, even if he seemed courteous at first glance.

“I think so, sir,” she responded cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always did. People always had something to say about her outlandish ideas.

The two were passed by another jogging platoon in silence. June felt the weight of their curious stares, probably sizing her up as another new nurse or secretary to try and take out to the movies. 

More buildings passed. June looked out over the field to her right, a large expanse of flat green grass, which had a primitive track lining the perimeter, and forest beyond that, fading into a gradient of thin trees and ground cover. There were rows upon rows of barracks between her and the field – wooden row houses, long and narrow with square windows and thin walls. Some of them were covered with tarp fittings over the roofs and sides. June thought of winter in those poorly-insulated boxes and wondered how the men stayed warm. 

“Look,  I just want to tell you one thing before you go in,” Coates said suddenly, rounding a corner and facing her. June straightened again. “Colonel Sink may have let you in, but he’s not a nice man,” Coates said, looking slightly down at June, who was a good deal shorter. His tone was not harsh, but it seemed to be genuinely honest. “You’re here for a unique reason. I know that you are aware you will have to prove yourself more than any other man here.”

June looked seriously at him. “I know, sir. You have no idea how well I know.” She immediately reconsidered her statement. Was it too disrespectful? She searched his face. He didn’t look particularly upset. She told herself not to push it.

He nodded, looking at her sidelong without malice. “You will know if you didn’t before,” he said lowly. “I don’t envy your position, Private.”

June looked up, startled. This was the first time she’d been acknowledged as a military person, let alone a hopeful. 

Private Diedtrich. She would have smiled to herself if not for a wave of overwhelming nervousness as she looked at the door that would lead to Sink. Coates broke eye contact and rose back up to full height. 

“Colonel Sink is in here,” he said, holding open a door and following June into the building. 

Inside, the air was cooler, but still warm. A narrow hallway led down the building to the left, and office doors – some shut, some open – punctuated the wood wall every few feet. June stepped aside to let Coates pass, and she followed him down the corridor to the last door on the right. Coates knocked. 

“Come in,” a voice drifted out from the room. Coates nudged open the door and held it open for June, who slipped past him into Colonel Sink’s office.

The office was filled with light from the window behind Sink, who rose from his chair at the sight of June entering the office. June heard the shift of fabric behind her as Coates stood at attention, and after another brief moment of panicked debate, she too snapped her heels together and raised her right arm in salute, feeling a little strange doing it in her civilian clothing: skirt, lipstick, pin curls, and all.

The Colonel looked at June for a few seconds with an unreadable look, then back at Coates. 

“As you were,” he said in a strong, slightly nasal voice. He had gray hair and a composed mannerism. 

June heard Coates’s uniform shift again, and a half-second later, she relaxed her arm, not wanting to be found incompetent. She was feeling out-of-place already. Knowing how to salute and drill and address officers in the book was different than when the Colonel of Camp Toccoa was standing right in front of her. 

Would he offer his hand for shaking? Was she supposed to take it and shake once or twice? Thankfully, Sink didn’t offer a handshake, but instead dismissed Coates with a brief wave. 

“Sergeant Coates, please wait outside,” he said, and then turning to June, he pointed to a chair in front of the desk. “Have a seat, young lady,” he said, and June obediently pulled out the chair and sat down, setting her suitcase down next to her. The thought that Sink hadn’t called her Private briefly flashed through her mind, but June’s thoughts were so jumbled that she pushed the useless observation out of her mind and tried to breathe deeply to calm down her rapidly beating heart.

Sink sat down in his chair across from June and folded his hands, looking at her, the beams of noontime sun slatting through the blinds in the window and giving Sink a backlit glow. June met his eyes straight on, challenging him to make any assumptions before he talked to her first. 

This was the man to impress. If anyone, it was Sink. He could throw her out of the camp right then if he wanted to. June was no Congressman’s daughter, no relative of a high-ranking official. Sink had the right to deny her requests immediately without repercussions, and they both knew. 

Yet Sink had been the one  – the only one – to answer June’s request, asking her to come on base to begin training that September. That had to mean he had some sort of hope for her when the others didn’t. It had to. Right?

Sink’s letter promised her a shot. It might have been a shot in the dark, but June took it.

“June Diedtrich. We finally meet,” Sink said, leaning back in his chair. 

June nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said steadily. Sink laughed, probably at her stiffness, or maybe at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. 

“Well, let’s get into it,” he said with an air of business, turning to a few papers on his desk and laying one on top of another. He had a particular habit of enunciating syllables and drawing them out in a Carolina accent. It reminded June of her grandfather, though she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to make that comparison.

“In your letter you stated that you specifically wanted to join the Army. Not the WACs, or other female divisions,” Sink said, looking fleetingly at the mentioned letter and back at June. “You do realize how strange and frankly abstract an idea like this is, June?”

June kept her face stoic, but she felt a cold flash of nervousness. “Yes, sir.”

Sink scanned the rest of the letter and put it back down. “Your request has been approved by the top brass, as you already know,” he said, drumming a finger on the table and leaning back once more. “This is something that has never happened. Not once in the history of the United States Armed Forces has a female actually entered front-line combat,” Sink said with an air of finality.

She nodded, not knowing what else to say. A growing fearful anticipation of rejection grew in her mind, and she shifted in the chair uncomfortably. She reasoned with herself: why would Sink kick her out now? She’d taken a train all the way from California to get here. Sink seemed to be a man of practicality. She told herself she was being ridiculous by having anything to fear, but her own voice of logic was drowned out by anxiety.

Their correspondence had been constant, but June still knew nothing was ever concrete with such a tenuous plan relying on scant approval. Was Sink preparing to drop her right here and now? Was that why he’d kept Coates outside the office, so she could be driven back into town? June’s heart sank, even though she knew in her mind that she’d been approved to this position. 

“You’re a high school valedictorian, West Point graduate, and women’s distance running champion. You have political contacts all over the country in top positions, a secure home in San Francisco, and job prospects open everywhere because of your degree. You’re smart. You’re also a woman. You have the option,” Sink said, clearing his throat and leaning forward, “of completely ignoring the war as someone who will not be affected by any possible future drafts. In fact, there will be more jobs for you when men start draining out of the country by the millions.”

June watched his face, trying to follow his logic. 

“So, when I ask this, answer me honestly, because I want to know,” he said. “Why are you here?”

Bea had asked June the same thing on the bus but curiously, it seemed different when the words were coming from the mouth of a distinguished Colonel, sitting here with June’s fate in his hands. She twisted a finger in her lap and stopped herself, knowing Sink could see.

“You could be in danger if you wanted, Diedtrich,” Sink said. “You could fly a plane. You could make yourself useful by manufacturing artillery shells.” He snorted. “Hell, you could even haul ass to Europe and do some fighting yourself without being–” he waved an arm around, one side of his mouth lifting below his moustache in a scowl, “restricted by the organization of the U.S. Army. God knows we haven’t been as welcoming as some Holland revolutionaries could be on the other side of the world.”

June pressed her lips together, thinking. “I’m not bilingual, sir,” she started, and Sink laughed for a moment, his stony exterior breaking for just that second. “I don’t have a pilot's license. I don’t want to work in a factory, sir,” she forged on, wondering if her use of sir was too frequent. No matter – it was better to sprinkle in too many than too few. “I feel love for my country, this great nation I was born into. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave. And if I am daring enough to count myself to be among the free and the brave, then I intend to take up arms and fight for it too.” 

Colonel Sink had asked why. Why was she here? She paused just for a few seconds. 

“And if not for Europe or the free people of the Pacific, I want to fight for my country. The United States of America.”

Sink looked down at the papers without reading them, up at the ceiling, and then back at June, exhaling. Then he nodded. “That’s exactly why every other man is here,” he said. “I’m glad you feel so strongly about our country. But I’ll ask you this.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Are you prepared to watch your comrades die? To have the cloud of death and blood all around you as you pack yourself into trenches, waiting for the artillery to tear some poor boy’s arm off? To be hit by the blood and guts of the man next to you, deafened by gunfire and blinded by flares?”

June swallowed, trying to picture the carnage, knowing it was a reality that was all too near, men torn limb from limb just across the sea.

“The taste of ash and metal doesn’t leave your mouth. And if you yourself get hit in battle, sometimes it’s a mercy to not have to watch your brothers bleed out in front of you or get their helmet shot through with some German machine gun,” Sink concluded. “If you ever get through the training and somehow make it into battle, can your female mind and soul bear it?”

June stared into the distance, trying to imagine it – a familiar mental choreography she’d replayed again and again for months, trying to picture the mud and screams and rivers of red. She’d watched war films when she could, but she had a premonition the worst was never shown. She’d known veterans from the Great War, hollow and haggard, missing limbs or parts of their skin or sections of their face. Burns. Amputations. Bullet wounds. Broken arms that never healed. Big scars that were never named, but pointed to some greater wound inside their soul. Empty eyes.

June hoped she’d never get to that point. Empty-eyed was the worst that you could become.

“I know it, sir,” June said, knowing it was a woeful lie. “In the event that I am eventually deployed overseas, I am prepared for it.”

Sink grimaced. “You will never be prepared. You do not know. But I have faith that you are willing to learn what it takes to become a brother-in-arms.” He paused. “Sister-in-arms.”

June nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You are not one of them yet,” Sink said, pointing over his shoulder into the window, framing a scene of men doing drills, running, and standing at attention. “You may never be one of them. You have to make them understand, Diedtrich. You must make them. No one else will do it for you.” A brief shake of his head. “But the battle for now is not to make friends. You will earn their respect by your actions, your fortitude, and your resilience, something each man must do. And now you are a woman attempting the same thing. If they accept you,” he said, “and that is a big if, you will do it by surviving Toccoa. There is no shortcut. You either shape up or wash out, same as the others, West Point degree be damned.”

June’s eyes narrowed slightly, hating that her degree was probably going to be held over her the whole time she was here, if she lasted longer than a few days. She hated being told about her own education, because she was reminded of how she’d been given exceptions that made her class graduate in three short years. 

If she ever earned something, it would be her place in the Paratroopers.

“I cannot stress this enough, Diedtrich,” Sink said. “You must earn this. The Army men will not be easily convinced of your competence unless you demonstrate it.”

June nodded firmly, face hardening. “I will try my best, sir.”

Colonel Sink looked as if he was going to try to say something else, but then decided against it. “Well, Private Diedtrich, I wish you the best, but that’s all I can do. Welcome to U.S. Army training,” he said, rising from his chair. “The Basic Training exam is in a few weeks. I’ll see you then.”

June stood up quickly too, and Sink offered a hand for a shake. June gave him her firmest handshake, and Sink nodded at her. 

“Survive this, and you make history,” Sink said, face serious.

June felt the unsaid implication hang in the air. 

Fail, and you’re just another drop-out.

June didn’t intend to fail. She’d weather this, just like she had weathered her other obstacles. This time, the obstacle was called Toccoa. And maybe – just maybe – she’d eventually face down the forces of Europe.

.

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Thirteen - Love Me (If That’s What You Wanna Do)

Just like the mornings prior, the light streaming in through the large windows in Matty’s bright house woke her up. However, unlike the mornings prior, the tangle of arms and legs, the arm around her stomach, the soft snoring in her ear and the curly hair tickling her cheek were a welcome new addition. Her eyes took a brief moment to adjust to the room around her. It was nice not being jetlagged, or hungover, it meant that she had enough braincells functioning to accurately recall the events of last night. She shuffled slightly, moving to grab her phone from the bedside table to check the time, only to feel Matty’s arm tighten around her and pull her back into the middle of the bed.

“Stay in bed.” He mumbled; the tone of his voice thick with sleep.

“I thought you had stuff that you’re meant to do today?” She questioned, letting him keep her there anyway.

“Don’t care. Want to stay here with you.” He answered. She already felt that heart-warming feeling spreading through her chest after remembering how last night had gone, and he was very easily amplifying it tenfold with such a simple comment. 

“When did you get so sappy?” She muttered as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

“I will be as sappy as I damn well want.” He laughed as he squeezed his arms around her, trailing kisses from her cheek to her lips. Fucking hell. How did she ever think that she stood a chance to not fall prey to his charm?

Which pulled her mind back to how they’d left things last night. “So…” She cleared her throat anxiously. “Uh, when did you wanna talk?” It seemed best in her mind to just get it over with.

“Whenever you’re ready to.” He shrugged.

She paused for a few seconds. “Now?” She suggested.

He let out a deep sigh, ending it in a yawn as he rolled over, stretching his arms above his head. “Let’s head downstairs, then.” He nodded. “We can chat over breakfast.”

They made their way downstairs, Y/N/N taking a seat at the small outdoor table as she watched him potter about the kitchen. He hummed quietly to himself as he searched the cupboards for something basic for the two of them to eat. The contented atmosphere around him was plain to see. It was nice seeing him at ease when he was frequently so tightly wound or on edge about something.

  He sat down at the table, setting a mug down in front of her as he cradled his own tea in his hands. As he stared down into his cup, he tried to carefully picked his words. Where to begin? “I guess I should start with: I’m sorry about the bet. It er, got a bit out of hand, I suppose.”

“No kidding?” She replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her drink. He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that before pulling himself back on track.

“It started as just messin’ about. I liked your company and you gave me a run for my money. I didn’t know what I wanted out of what we had because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I thought…” He swallowed hard, hating that he had to admit the next part. “I thought that I just liked having you around because you helped me deal with my thoughts when they were… getting difficult. I told you that things run smoother for me with company, but I truly struggle without my friends. I wouldn’t have been able to get clean - stay clean, if it weren’t for them. I rely on them massively. When you came along, it was easy for me to shift some of that emotional reliance onto you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” She frowned. Had she known that was the case, she would’ve been able to offer some assistance through his rough patches rather than watching him suffer in silence.

“Because I thought if I told you that I felt dependent on you to stay in a good headspace, you wouldn’t wanna be around me anymore. It’s hardly charming to hear that I don’t function properly alone.” He answered truthfully. “In my best efforts to avoid confronting that, I did everything I could to keep you around without being open about why. And the bet seemed like a good way to do that. If I kept dragging it out, it gave me an excuse to stay in your life.” He elaborated.

“Matty, you didn’t need an excuse-”

“Yeah, I know that now, Y/N/N.” He grinned. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty. As it so turned out, anyway, that wasn’t why I was so hell bent on keeping you around.” He pointed out as he took a swig of his tea.

  “So…” He stared down at the hole in his jeans, picking at it absent-mindedly. “I ignored my motivations behind what we had for a long time, and gradually they changed without me noticing. It wasn’t until George talked some sense into me after tour ended that I realised why I’d been doin’ it.” She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Because I was into you, too.” He clarified with a roll of his eyes.

“You see? See how it fucking feels to have someone make you say it?” She laughed as she shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I said I was sorry, all right?” He chuckled. “I only realised it while you were away working at that show.”

“Is that what that voicemail was about?” She asked in surprise as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“Uh, kinda. More so what the call the next day was about. And why I asked you to come out here. Once I was aware of it, I finally had to do what you’d been bugging me about since we’ve met and actually work out what I wanted.” He said with a short laugh. “I wanted to tell you, I knew that much. But the rest I needed a bit of help with.”

  “And that brings us to the difficult bit that you didn’t want to confront: what happens after all this is said and done.” He added as he stood up and walked over to his coffee table. He opened the drawer on the side of it, pulling out a stack of papers. Glancing at the cover quickly to double check that he’d definitely grabbed the right thing, he made his way back to the outdoor table. “Because I know that us being into each other doesn’t mean much if I end up on tour for the majority of the year.” He flipped through the pages anxiously, choosing his words wisely before he spoke. “I want you to come and be the director of our merch.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. What? “It’s, erm, it’s a real job. Not something daft I made up like the Rome merch gig. You’d be in charge of our whole merchandising operation: organising stock levels, contracting out the merch jobs to the venues as we tour, making sure that they set it up correctly and that sales are lining up. Sam and I would still be designing our stuff, but you’d do pretty much all the rest. I know you don’t like sitting around doin’ nothing, so it’s proper work. You’d pretty much have to live on the road with us, have downtime when we record or have downtime ourselves. But, um, you don’t have to decide now.” He handed her the thick wad of paper. “This is the contract. Read it over, make sure you know what the job is. And don’t say yes because of me. The offer isn’t anything to do with me, it’s The 1975 exclusive. It was George’s idea actually, it didn’t even come from me.” He laughed lightly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck. Ah, that explained their secret conversation yesterday. “But I don’t want you to say yes because you think I want you to. Which is not to say that I don’t want you to, it’s just…” He let out a deep sigh as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. “Whether you say yes to the job or not, it doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change any of my opinions. And if you say yes, anything that happens between us, good or bad or nothing, it doesn’t affect the job, yeah?” He had too many things on the list in his head to try and convey that he was starting to worry that his point wasn’t coming across coherently.

  She stared down at the papers in her hands as she mulled over the offer. “This is incredibly generous, but I don’t want to be taking someone else’s job away from them.” She said as she went to pass them back. He just pushed it back into her grip.

“You’re not.” He assured. “Previously this is something that Jamie or I did. It’s about time we delegated, so if you don’t take the job it will be offered to someone else.” As he spoke, the sound of his ringtone started filling the air around them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. Realistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Ah, shit… That’s Hann.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. There was still so much more that he wanted to say.

“Are you running late?” She asked.

He nodded. “I gotta go meet the guys at the studio. I’ll be back in a bit. Read the contract, see what you think. Jamie said you can have a week to think about it before he looks for another person to fill the position.” He explained as he made his way inside, throwing a jacket over his shoulders. “There’s a spare key on top of the fridge if you need to duck out.” He shouted as he headed towards the front door. A quick goodbye was thrown over his shoulder, before the heavy door was pulled shut, and she was left by herself to digest all of this information.

  She migrated back inside to sit on the couch as she flipped through the contract. He was right about it being a proper job offer. Everything was listed in these sheets of paper, from the amount of hours she should be expecting to work down to how she would have to filter any posts online about the band. The pay was… more than adequate. There were even clauses in there about the contract not locking her into any long-term agreements, she was free to leave when she wanted. It was a tempting proposition. She loved doing merch work, and she’d been doing it on and off for over a decade now. It made sense to take a leap into something more permanent than just taking jobs as they were offered to her during peak touring season. Controlling a whole merch operation for an entire band would be an interesting challenge to tackle, a rewarding one she suspected. But this was much bigger than just a job. It would mean uprooting her life at home, committing to a life on the road. And as much as he said that it didn’t, it did mean committing to Matty to a degree. Whether that was in the sense of a relationship or not, it meant that he was going to become a permanent fixture in her life. Was she certain she wanted that? She’d had less than twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that her feelings were actually reciprocated. And did he actually want that? It was a while of her looking at the pages before Allen came to find her; the big dog padding into the living room and watching her with curiosity. She read and re-read certain clauses as he jumped up on the couch and rested his head in her lap, trying to find something that would either seal the deal or break it. But in the end, it was her decision to make. She had to weigh up the pros and cons and decide what was going to give the best outcome.

  * * *

 Matty made it to the studio a bit breathless, having half jogged there in an effort to not be too late. They were meeting with someone to sort out the pressing of the album on vinyl, and the meeting had started fifteen minutes ago. He exchanged a few quick greetings with the people mingling around the front of the building before making his way down to the back room where he knew the rest of his band would be waiting for him.

“So sorry!” He blurted out as he stepped into the room. “Time got away from me this morning.”

“Not like you to be late.” George stated, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Matty could hear the teasing tone underlying his voice.

“Yes, well…” He tried to think of a witty comeback as he shrugged his jacket off. But he found himself coming up empty.

“Are they the same clothes that you were wearing yesterday?” Ross questioned, eager to jump onto this bandwagon.

“Did you sleep in those?” Adam chimed in.

Matty sat there in silence, running a few responses through his head. None of them were going to get him out of this. “So, we need to get Notes out as soon as possible,” He started, opting to change the topic instead. George sniggered a laugh under his breath.

  The meeting went well. They organised that the vinyl could be out in a few months once they were ready to go ahead with the final master of the album. A few last administration bits and pieces were confirmed. They lined up their next few social media posts and when they would be posted. Things were really starting to come together. Once it was just the band left in the room, Matty finally felt the stress release from his shoulders. He knew he was about to receive a hard time from his mates, but at least now he wasn’t gonna have to let strangers in on his personal life. 

“Why were you actually running late?” George asked eventually. “Did you finally talk to her?”

The smile he was trying to conceal gave him away before he could even start talking, earning a chorus of approving noises from his friends. He waited until they’d calmed down for a second before he spoke. “Yeah, we’re on the same page now.” Matty nodded. “And I was going over the contract when you rang.” He added, gesturing towards Adam.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, man.” He apologised.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I left it with her so she had a chance to read it.”

  “And?” George urged.

“And what?” The lead singer frowned in confusion.

“Are you guys together now or what?” He clarified.

“Oh, erm, well…” Matty started hesitantly. He hadn’t had the chance to get to that bit this morning.

George let out a loud groan in annoyance. “You still didn’t ask?”

“I didn’t want her to feel weird about it! Throwing the job offer and that at her in one morning seemed like too much. I just told her that it didn’t matter if we were or weren’t, the position was separate to all that.” He explained. Adam nodded in agreement. “I was gonna get to that part once she knew if she wanted to join the team or not.”

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer then.” Ross said with a nod towards the door. “Go see what she has to say.”

 * * *

  The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard the front door lock click open. Allen instantly jumped off the couch next to her to bound towards the sound of the noise, and she heard Matty greeting his dog eagerly before seeing him step into the living area.

“Sorry, I tried to get out as quickly as I could.” He said, kicking his shoes off.

“How was the meeting?” She asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her.

“Good, yeah.” He said with a nod. “We sorted out a few last things with Notes so it should be right to go soon.” He eyed the papers sitting on the table. “So, uh… how did you get on with the contract?” He asked, clearly anxious about her answer.

“It’s very… thorough.” She chuckled.

“George wrote it up with Jamie to make sure that all the legalities were covered and you had an out if ever you wanted one. We of all people know how rough this sort of lifestyle can be.” He should probably stop talking about the downsides of the job if he ever hoped for her to want to accept it.

“I went over it a couple of times, the job itself seems great.  The only things that worried me were having to relocate my existing life at home to commit to living on the road with you lot. I don’t know if I could cram my life into a suitcase. And I’ve never handled something as major as this. There’s a lot to learn, with pretty high stakes involved and I’m sure I’ll be being thrown straight into the deep end.” She sighed, feeling the sense of dread at fucking it all up sitting at the back of her mind.

  “However, despite of all of that, I’d like to take the job.” She grinned. He couldn’t help but match her smile as a wave of relief washed over him. When she’d started talking about the negatives, he was sure that it was going to lead to her turning the offer down.

“Welcome to the team.” He said, holding his hand out to her for a handshake. She laughed lightly before shaking it. “We’ll have to head down tomorrow to get all this finalised and tell the guys.” The excitement shone in his eyes.

“I look forward to it.” She replied.

“That just leaves one last question, then.” He continued, wanting to keep the ball rolling.

“Hm?”

“What did you want to do about us?” He asked as he tried to maintain his usual confident bravado, at least until this conversation was over.

  “Ah, yeah… about that…” She sighed. His hours out of the house had also given her a lot of time to consider what she wanted out of all this - out of him. “Matty, you are quite possibly the most egotistical and arrogant person that I’ve ever met. You are relentless when you’re right, and just as difficult when you’re wrong.” These were things that he was already well aware of, but he couldn’t help the pang of hurt in his chest at having to hear them again. “And yet, for whatever reason, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” She huffed. What? “Which might be because despite the incredibly annoying traits that you possess, you also possess many redeeming ones. You’re passionate and kind and endlessly talented.” He could feel his cheeks warming slightly at her words. “You go to the ends of the earth for the people that you care for. You’re smart and funny and fuck. I don’t think I could continue ignoring my feelings for you, even if I did want to.” She admitted as she ran a hand down her face in frustration. “Even at my most blindly stubborn, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I committed to being around you more than I already am. Especially after everything that’s happened since I got here.”

He considered what she was saying carefully. “What did you want our next step to be, love?” He asked, wanting to leave the ball in her court and not push her into anything. 

“I’d be keen to give a serious relationship a try if you were.” She answered bluntly. He let out a triumphant laugh. “Don’t get too cocky now that you managed to win me over.” She cautioned him, but her smile betrayed the warning in her words.

“Too late. That ship has long since sailed.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

  She hugged him back just as tight, glad to finally have it all out in the open. It was probably going to be a bumpy road ahead, with a million setbacks and challenges. But she was pretty excited to be facing those things with Matty by her side.

“To think, you got yourself into all this mess with a troubled musician just because you didn’t know how to reprint a t-shirt.” He scoffed as he pulled back. She could hear the joking tone in his voice, but the incessant need to correct him still bubbled to the surface.

“That is not at all what happened.” She argued.

“I’m fairly sure it is.” He nodded. “Pretty sure that I walked in there, you needed me for help with the shirts and then you begged me to hang out with you more.” He lied.

“I’m certain that you are the one who bothered me to hang out with you more.” She shot back. The smirk on his face made it pretty clear that she’d just taken the bait. Again. “Stop being such a twat.” She laughed.

“You make it way too easy.” He replied with a chuckle before leaning down to kiss her.

 Last Chapter

Next Chapter

[apathycarestostudy]

Hey there! Ive been following your blog for some time now and i think its time for some advice. So, im having my exams this and the following week. The things is, due to the whole quarantine stuff, those exams Last about 4-5 or even 24 hours, so I don't really see the point on memorizing the whole stuff. Ive tried saying to myself that "sooner or later i'll be needing th info", but really, i know that it's not the case. do you know any wya to make my dumb ass to get to work?

Hello hello! Thanks for following, I’m glad I can help! This is pretty opportune, since I was just told that one of my course’s final exam is going to be an open book 24 hour long ‘exam’. It’s one of those core courses for chemical engineering, and I was just planning on grinding this week, but as soon as they announced that, I celebrated and started listing all the reasons why I don’t need to study anymore:

- I’m drowning in assignments they’ve been giving us to compensate for this special time.

- I have other, much harder courses I haven’t touched since the start of the semester. I can’t afford to waste time on this.

- It’s open book ??? 24 hours ?? It’s like homework with a bigger consequence.

- I’m lazy.

- I can always brush up on it some other time, in the far future.

- I’ll survive - I’m honestly just trying to get through this semester as smoothly as I can.

But I know, deep down, that I’m just trying to convince myself why it’s okay to let it hang. Truly, the only reason why I’m letting it go is I’m lazy. I’m not spending every waking hour just tirelessly studying or doing something productive or hell, even doing something. I’m letting the current take me wherever. Maybe you’re feeling the same. It doesn’t help when our teachers / professors aren’t engaging as well, or like I’ve mentioned, being given shit to do in order to keep us busy. Since we feel like we’re doing more than we should, we don’t need to put in effort for things that don’t breed tangible consequence.

So. Now what?

We recall why we’re here. If you’re not sure, pull out a piece of paper and write down why are you studying. Why are you taking this course. Why are you going to school (from home). What is your goal. Why do you even care?

After you’ve established your vision, you gotta list what’s stopping you. I take back what I said up there - yes I can be lazy, but I’m also a chronic worrier with severe impostor syndrome. I can list at least ten reasons why I’m behind and failing already, even though I’m caught up on more than half of my courses and I have a decent grasp on my assignments. I’m the type to achieve results as soon as I set my mind on it, because my worrying causes me to overthink, but I won’t give myself even a second to congratulate or reward myself - I’ll just start rattling off all the things I’m failing at. That’s my issue. My over thinking is hindering me.

I can’t speak for your hindrance because you haven’t really mentioned it, but I suggest you fine tune this coming advice for people like me and you’re basically there. For worriers, you have to (again) bust out a pen and paper and list off all the things that are ‘going wrong’, i.e. what’s plaguing you, and then give yourself a moment before you read through it. Now, go through each one and try to debunk it with valid reasoning and let that fester in your thoughts for a moment before moving on to the next. I highlight valid reasoning because you just can’t go “NO U” to your worries - you gotta address them.

Now that we have our vision and our hindrance, time to get to cracking. Also, pro tip, keep your sheets close by. Whenever you catch yourself slipping, read your vision sheet, and if you start acting up, update your hindrance sheet. If you journal, you can keep it in there.

Moving back to the ask - my best advice to your dumb ass and my dumb ass is be 100% honest with yourself. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being detrimental and 1 being practice questions, how important is this course? By importance, consider if it’ll affect your performance somewhere in the future through actual application, or by being a starting point for another course. There’s nothing worse than starting a new course with a motivated disposition only to realize that it jumps off from a course you know jack about. Now you have to waste time re-learning the old shit and you hate the new shit. So be honest. For me, that open book 24 hour ‘exam’ is a 6, and only because I’m in my sixth semester and so my last year’ll be research projects / thesis and industrial visits. Maybe a course or three that’re open book. It’s an important course, but it won’t affect me until laaaater.

Now, if all this hasn’t pushed you enough to do something, then do the bare minimum. Do enough that’ll satisfy you. It can be only memorizing the review and skimming through the rest, which is what I’m doing, instead of going all out and making study notes and summaries and shit. Because it’s hard not going to classes and expecting top performance, but you can do it. In the end, you’re putting in time and money for this shit, so remember that. You’re paying to sit around and avoid your responsibilities. You’re paying to take this opportunity for granted. You’re paying to be lax with your decisions. You’re paying for just existing. Is it fun living off the backs of people paying meaningful shit for you to continue to pay to do nothing?

I know it’s harsh, and it can be hard, but you got a whole day. If it’s too overwhelming, take it one day at a time. Prove that you’re paying for it yourself to yourself, if anything.

(I went in all of a sudden, sorry about that. I’m in your position so I went off like I’d go off with myself, but I hope this helped in some way.)

I’m open to you - or anybody - messaging me if you wanna talk. I like talking to people more than talking at them lol. Stay safe, and let’s make the most out of this special time!

[roommatesandwiches]

Movie Night

For context: This WIP is set in The Consequences Of A Magic Sandwich, a series (with currently only one fic) based off that 'demon sandwiches' thread; Reader is a human that pals around with demons and serves them sandwiches when they come visit. It's supposed to be Vox-centric, but I somehow ended up writing about other demons more. (this one is set a bit after Reader's met Vox for the first time)

I wanted to write a one-shot of Reader hanging out with the VVV but realized I had zero idea how to write proper dialogue, especially with characters I'm not all that familiar with. I chickened, basically, because we have little to no information what all of their personalities are, but this came out decent enough so I thought I'd share.

Viv mentioned that all of the stuff in Hell are 'off-brand', and the following is kinda how I interpret the meaning of that as well as Velvet and Valentino's personalities while we still know little about them.

-----

The ice cubes clink as they touch the bottom of the glasses. Following after them is your fresh, homemade lemonade that you pour carefully from the jug. You then pop the straws into the glasses before carrying the tray over to the table where your demonic guests are sitting. Valentino is casually eating a sandwich, his eyes glued to his hot-pink phone, while Velvet is wolfing down your cookies one after the other like a homeless person who hadn't eaten in weeks. You place the tray down and the demoness immediately snatches a glass at the speed of light and knocks it back like a shot of vodka, ignoring the straw entirely. Her haste is rewarded with the ice spilling out and onto her face, some bouncing down her chest to her lap. "Slow down," you tell her as you hand her a napkin. "It's not going anywhere." "I know, but your food is just so good!" she draws out the words, and your worry that she'd get brain freeze disappears as she continues to be just as chipper as ever. Do demons not get brain freeze? Maybe she's just too hyped up to notice. Do demons get adrenaline rushes? You consider asking, but Velvet's stuffing her face with cookies again and Valentino is distracted. "Thank you," you say and you take a sip of your own glass of lemonade through the straw. You turn to the taller demon across from you, effectively catching his attention with your gaze. "You're not texting one of your workers, are you?" The pimp is quiet for a moment. "...'Course not." he says, but he puts his phone down. You sigh disappointedly, earning an annoyed look from him that you brush off easily.

"No working when you're here, remember?" you say. "This is a place for demons to relax. If you wanted to work over sandwiches you can do that in Hell." He frowns at your mothering, crossing his lower pair of arms poutily. "Fine, fine." He finishes his sandwich and finally takes his glass and brings the straw to his lips. He takes a sip and his eyes widen. "Dang, baby! This is f*cking delicious!" It tastes pretty average to you. "Don't you have lemons in Hell?" "Kinda?" Velvet made a face. "They taste gross. Everything tastes gross." "We have lemons, they're just... Off-brand," You raise an eyebrow. Off-brand lemons? "Just like everything else down there. We've got all the food and all the products you have up here but they're all sh*tty as f*ck." So that's why they like your food so much. It's not really great, it's just leaps and bounds better than the food in Hell. Velvet sighs and leans into her palm. You wonder if the brain freeze finally caught up to her. "Yeah... Even the Oreos are terrible." She suddenly perks up again and gasps sharply. She leans into you, filling your vision with her face. "Do you have—?!" "Oreos?" You push her back a bit by the shoulders as you try to remember. "I'll go check." You get up and make your way upstairs. Behind you, Velvet squeals and hits Valentino's arm excitedly. You hear the pimp say, "Calm down, Vel." but he sounds a bit excited, too. You go into your room and look into your snack drawer. After pushing aside a package of candies you spot a blue Oreo package hidden within and pull it out of the drawer. You grab some scissors before you bring it downstairs and show it to the demons triumphantly. They visibly brighten at the sight of it and won't stop looking at it in awe even as you cut it open. You hand them each a pack and they waste no time in tearing them open. They each toss a cookie into their mouths and simultaneously moan with delight as they bite into it. "So... So good," Valentino says with his mouth still full. Some drool drips down his chin and your fingers twitch with the urge to wipe it with a napkin. Velvet crams the other two Oreos into her mouth without even swallowing the first one and gets crumbs all over her dress and your tablecloth. Valentino at least takes his time to savour the sweet, sugary goodness. The demoness next to him reaches for another packet but you pull it out of her reach. She pouts like a puppy but you remain firm. "If you eat them all there won't be any left for other demons," is your reasoning, but really you don't want them to eat too much and get sick. You know how terrible that feeling is. Besides, you mother them enough as it is. "Just buy more." Velvet whines, making grabby motions with both her hands. "I'm not made of money," you say. Valentino opens his mouth so you add, "I can only get promoted so many times." "Actually, what I was going to say was that you could get a better job. We can easily make that happen, baby. You've just gotta ask." He winks and snaps his fingers with a flourish. "Thanks, but I like my current job," you say with a polite smile. "It's not the best pay, but it pays good and I like doing it." "Suit yourself, then." the pimp sighs and takes another Oreo. "I mean, with the extra money you could get some better clothes," Velvet comments, glancing at your outfit. You furrow your brows at her and she shrugs. "A change could be nice." "My clothes are perfectly fine as long as they fit me." you state with finality. "There's nothing wrong with looking good, sugar." You cast Valentino a look at that. "Not that you don't look good, I'm just saying that you could look better." "Well, I don't care about looking better. I like how I look right now." When clothes shopping, you usually just get whatever you think looks good, comfortable and is affordable. You've never really thought about how good anything looks on you and you don't really have any regard for style and brands. It was less of a hassle that way. "Are the clothes in Hell off-brand, too?" you wonder aloud. "Oh yeah, totally," Velvet says as she snaps a picture of the Oreo pack with her 'Hellphone'. She picks at the fabric of her dress. "A lot of the stuff for sale are tacky as Hell. If you want good clothes, you gotta make them yourself or pay really good money." "All my clothes are custom made and cost more than your house." Valentino adds. He gestures with all four of his arms and you easily understand why that could be. A lot of people in Hell probably didn't care to make clothes that accommodated demons that are shaped less like average humans. "That sucks." "It's Hell, babe," Valentino shrugs. "Everything sucks." "Even movies?" you question. "Yeah. Well," the pimp smirks. "Not our movies." Oh right. They make porn. You're not into that stuff, but you understand how some people are. All to their own. "Drugs don't pay for themselves!" Velvet laughs hysterically before adding, "We sell drugs too." Well, no wonder they were so stinking rich and high up Hell's hierarchy. Sure, power played a part, but down in Hell stuff like porn and drugs are likely really high in demand, you'd think. Velvet suddenly gasps again and turns to you with wide eyes. "O. M. G. Do you have—" Drugs? "—Movies?!" You look at her quizzically. "Of course I do—" "Ohmygoshohmygosh!" She's practically vibrating with excitement and her pupils dilate to the extreme. She's so excited that you're afraid that she might explode and get blood all over your dining room. Her claws snag on your shirt as she pulls you close. "Can we borrow them?!" You're about to say "Yes." when you second-guess it. You close your mouth and take a moment to think about it, prying Velvet's hands off of you as you did. "I... Don't know." you end up saying. Honestly, you don't doubt that she'd slit your throat and snatch up all your DVDs (or just steal them without going through the trouble of killing you) if you said "No." Velvet grins maniacally, giggling. "Don't trust us with your movies, huh? Haha! I wouldn't either!" "How about a movie night?" Valentino suggests. You look up at him and you swear his eyes are sparkling with excitement at his own idea. "Instead of borrowing them, let's watch them all here!" He grins expectantly at you and you suspect that he expects you to hate the idea, but surprisingly, you don't. Having a movie night with some demons isn't a bad idea. It'd be just like having a movie night with humans, but demons. It's been a long time since you've had a movie night with anyone, anyway, so it'll be nice. "That sounds fun," you say truthfully and Valentino frowns. "I can prepare the snacks, but oh—Don't you guys have work, though?" "We already have a night set aside for movies!" Velvet pipes up. "Ooh, Vox's gonna love it!" That makes you pause. "Vox?" "Um, yeah! We can't have a movie night without Vox!" she says as if it's the most obvious thing. "The point of movie night is so that we can hang out, duh."

(That's pretty much it. Thanks for reading y'all.)

[jungshookz]

Okay okay let's say college ta Jimin and y/n are studying in his office and he decides that TODAY he will take his shot or whatever. So he says okay today we aren't gonna use jelly beans and then y/n then what and then Jimin is like you'll find out when you finish this chapter and he gives her a kith uwu please

→ pairing: park jimin x reader

→ genre: university!au, ta!jimin!!!!!! the cutest ta in the entire world!!!! FLUFF

→ wordcount: 1.9k

→ note: oh my god i love him :-((((( also u guys get to learn about a real-life exoplanet so my blog is not just a place for entertainment but it is also a place for education!!!!!! jungshookz university bitch!!!!!!!!

(gif isn’t mine!)

“okay, so- tell me about gliese 436 b.” jimin leans in to snap your textbook shut and he can’t help but smile fondly when you push your bottom lip out in a teeny pout “c’mon, i know you know this.”

“you don’t know that i know this.”

“i do know that you know that you know this.”

“but how do you know that i know that you know-“ you pause and try to recollect your thoughts “wait that didn’t seem right-“

“c’mOn get to it tell me about gliese 436 b!!!” jimin reaches over to poke your arm with his pen and you smack his hand away before turning in your seat a little so you can face him

“gliese 436 b is… a neptune sized exoplanet orbiting the red dwarf gliese 436. it has a small, rocky core… the middle layer of it is water compressed into solid form… and the outside layer of it is made of hydrogen and… some kind of gas.” jimin’s eyes flicker up from his notebook and he purses his lips

“what kind of gas?”

you clear your throat

what kind of gas

what kind of gas

what kind of gas

what kind of gas 

usually you’re good at finessing your way out of tricky situations

“..,,.laughing gas”

obviously this is not one of those situations

jimin kisses his teeth and shakes his head “that’s another one for me, i guess!”

“waIT-” 

he digs his hand into the baggie of gummy bears and pops one into his mouth and you let out a literal whinE because you haven’t gotten a gummy bear at aLL this study session

and jimin does this thing where he like overexaggerates how good the gummy bears are which makes you want them even more 

“but i got like most of the facts right!!!!!!” 

“i need you to get all of the facts right. and then i’ll see if you deserve a gummy bear or not.”

“that is so not fair. you weren’t like this at the beginning, y’know”

“that’s because you were dumber at the beginning-“

“hey!”

“-and now you’re smarter, so i’ve upped my standards.” jimin peeks into the bag “you better get the next question right because there are only two red gummy bears left and i know they’re your favourite…”

“you wouldn’t dare finish the strawberry ones.” you gawk at him and jimin shrugs innocently

b-buT

you lOVE the strawberry ones

the potential threat of jimin eating all of the strawberry gummy bears lights a fire under your aSS and you sit up attentively 

“fine! give me the next question. we’re almost at the end of the chapter anyway.”

jimin flips to the next page in his notebook and he pauses slightly

“if you get this question right… i will reward you with something sweeter than a gummy bear.” he clears his throat and you raise your brow in confusion

“what could possibly be sweeter than a gummy bear?”

“you’ll find out after i finish testing you on this chapter!”

“..,.but we always use gummy bears”

jimin gives you a pointed look and you raise your hands up in defense “alriGht alright fine”

so

here’s the deal

you n jimin have been hanging out a lot

like a LOT

you’re always coming to see him during office hours and even after office hours

sometimes he waits for you to finish your classes for the day and he treats you to a coffee and a muffin at the little french cafe a few blocks off campus

sometimes he comes n hangs out at your place

the two of you will binge watch something on netflix

order some pizza

somehOW jimin always sneaks in some studying but u don’t mind :-))

you’d say you’re in a pretty comfortable place with him right now

of course

you won’t lie

you still have a huge fat crush on jimin but u will never admit that to him because you think you’d be moRe than humiliated if he found out and was like oOhH yikes u know what i don’t feel that way about you

joon and kook and tae have all tried convincing you to just give in to your feelings and tell jimin about your burning red love that is a billion times hotter than the sun (kook’s words) for him but every time they bring it up you immediately change the subject

you just!!! don’t want to talk about how every time jimin says hi to you your heart skips a beat and how every time he smiles at you little cartoon hearts start bopping around your head and how every time he says your name your stomach flips n flops everywhere 

you don’T want to talk about that!!

so for now you’re just having a good time

and you think jimin’s having a good time hanging out with you

at least you hope he is

“describe the orbital characteristics of gliese 436 b.”

okay okay

you know this

you goT this

you narrow your eyes at jimin “is the prize going to be worth me answering this question?”

“that’s for me to know and you to find out.” jimin hums nonchalantly and flips to the next page of his notebook

you let out a breath

orbital characteristics of gliese 436 b

“okay… one orbit around the star takes about two days and 15.5 hours. gliese 436 b’s orbit is likely misaligned with its star’s rotation.” you pause to give yourself a chance to think

your tongue pokes out in concentration as you think hard and jimin uwu’s internally at the sight

he lets out a little sigh and props his elbow up on the desk before leaning on his knuckles

u r a cutie pie :-///

in fact

you are SUCH a cutie pie that jimin has decided that today is the day he’s finally going to make a move and ask u out or do something that implies that he has feelings for you lol

he’s like

98% sure that you like him???

the other day during his lunch break with yoongi

the older boy told him that when he was explaining a question to you he couldn’t help but notice that you kept looking over at the front as if you were waiting for jimin to come over to help you out instead

and because yoongi is naturally kind of a nosy person

one day he just flat out asked you if you thought jimin was cute and that sent you into a panic almost immediately (”well like- i mean, y’know, if you think that type of person is attractive- i guess i- i don’t wanna saY he’s noT cute but like-”) 

so yes

yoongi has pretty strong evidence backing up his opinion that you like jimin vERY much

“-to have maintained its eccentricity over time requires that it be accompanied by another planet.”

he concocted this plan a week ago after a particularly late study session

you fell asleep at his desk and since you are a vEry deep sleeper there was no way you were going to wake up to walk all the way back

so jimin planned to piggy back you back to the dorm but your arms kept slipping and you were basically bonELESS and jello-like when he tried to pull you onto his back

and so he ended up having to pick you up bridal style which was fine

and halfway through the walk you nuzzled into the crook of jimin’s neck and told him he’d make a great snuggle buddy (you were half-asleep and super delirious so he’s pretty sure you have no recollection of saying that)

and right then and there jimin swore he could’ve exploded into a trillion stars

maybe he’s 99% sure that you like him

he knows he’s 100% sure that he likes you

so he hopes his plan works

“did i get it???” you wave your hand in front of jimin’s face and he snaps out of it quickly

“what?”

“all the characteristics. did i get them all?” you point to his notebook and jimin looks at the notes he’s scribbled down for this particular question

“uh, yeah! …hey, yeah, you did! look at that! you got them all!!” jimin grins excitedly and you clasp your hands together and bounce up and down in your seat a little

“so! where’s my prize??” you stick your hands out instinctively and jimin shakes his head and reaches out to push your hands back so that they sit on your lap

he sets his notebook aside and wipes his hands on his jeans

jimin clears his throat and shifts in his seat “ya gotta close your eyes for this one”

you purse your lips

huh

“…u gonna stab me?”

“wha- nO i’m not going to stab you you dummy just close your eyes”

“alright but i don’t know if what you have will be beTTer than gummy bears” you tease before closing your eyes

oOH

mAYBE

maybe jimin got you one of those HUGE gummy bears

like the ones you can only order online

you will most definitely devour that in less than an hour if he actually got one for you

and how much are those things anyway??

jimin swallows thickly as he stares at you

the two of you are sitting face to face

all he has to do is lean in and-

okay maybe this isn’t a good idea

what if he’s just crazy and you don’t actually like him like that

shit

well now you’re expecting a prize and he has nothing to give to you

“y/n, i…”

“hEy you better give me my dang prize soon because i’m starting to freak myself out a little here-“ you lean in and place your hands on jimin’s kneecaps before giving them a squeeze

jimin’s eyes widen because you are suddenly a loT closer to him than you were a second ago

“oh thank goD you’re still here.” you snort “for a second i thought you just up and left-“

jimin leans in and presses his lips against yours in a quick little smooch and your eyes immediately pop right open

wha-

oh-

did he just-

dID JIMIN JUST-

DID YOU JUST GET A KISS FROM PARK JIMIN

holy shit

holy SHIT

okokokokaoakoayaoaka calm down

it’s fine

you’re cool

it’s good

we’re chill

JOkakHKJHGDKF

you blink owlishly at him and then u feel your entire face beginning to flaME up

your hands feel like they’re glued on his kneecaps

he totally just-

“did you just kiss me?” you breathe out

the two of you are still centimetres away from each other but no one’s making a move to back off

jimin blinks back at you

“,..,,.i just realised that if u didn’t like that you’re probably going to report me for sexual harassment but let me expLAIN-“

“question.” you hold a finger up to shut jimin up

ok

you don’t seem to be angry so maybe he’s in the clear

“…yes?” he tugs at the collar of his shirt nervously

“would you consider using this technique again? because i.,. suddenly feel very motivated to read like ten more chapters.”

“would you accept this technique over gummy bears?”

“…we gon have to talk ‘bout that one.”

(spoiler alert jimin ends up using the kith technique anD the gummy bears to motivate you and you’ve never studied harder in your entire life)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

masterlist

[ayankun]

Sooooooooooooo can we talk about SPN S6?

Ok so Eric Kripke had a five year plan, and that worked out somehow and then the show kept going.  And I’ll be honest, the whole “gotta save Sam from himself even though he’s basically fine all the time and isn’t actually a risk even though everyone keeps saying he is” storyline was dragging and I was looking forward to this arc finally wrapping up so we could discuss something else.

Be careful what you wish for, right?  I wanted serialization and when I got it, I wanted to go back to the episodic stuff.  I wanted to finish this story and start the next, but now that it’s started I ... I’m hoping the next ten seasons aren’t as awkward as this season’s been so far. :/

IDK.  S1-5 are dated in their own ways, and I was insanely curious as to how busting into the 2010s was going to affect the style of the show, especially as the decade progressed, but -- WOW I wasn’t expecting it to go full CW dreck overnight.

And it’s not just the storylines (which have been unfocused and meandering so far (I’m on ep 6)), but the whole production quality took a hit.  I can understand how changing up the chain of command at the top can trickle down, but should changing showrunners mean that you bring different cameras to different locations, and when you splice the scene together it looks like it comes from two different shows?  There seems to be more studio work, too, with crappy studio equipment, and all the evocative “Americana” backwoods of BC has been traded for and compressed into downtown Vancouver. 

What happened to the budget?  Wasn’t this show at the top of its class at the time?  Did they not trust the change over and told them to make do?  Did the whole network just downgrade overnight?  Arrow won’t be on the air for another two years, and I’m already well familiar with the overall production quality for this network from there on out.  So am I burdened with foresight?  Is SPN doomed to ride out another ten years as a vapid vehicle for ads like everything in the Flarrowverse will do?

Ok so look.  Back to storylines, and back to overall style.  I’m having a hard time describing, even to myself, what this bad taste is, because it’s the sum of its parts.  So where, specifically, are the differences?  Storylines -- no, let me correct myself, I mean to discuss structure.  S1 blew me away because the monster of the week plots were just glorified MacGuffins upon which character work could be safely installed.  And the character work was so good!  Sam and Dean, on the road!  Chasing mysteries!  Saving folks!  Having so many daddy issues!!!  Having each other’s backs until that one time where they keep never having each other’s backs until they suddenly do again?!!  Who cared about whether you can trust a crossroads demon, or who Michael was going to wear to prom??  NOT ME.  Just string enough cause and effect together to support the weight of those sad tortured repressed looks Dean can’t stop giving Sam.  Please.  That’s all I need.  Keep giving me enough narrative runway to let Sam go wild with his SAINTLIKE patience as he tries and fails and tries again to convince his stupid brother that the weight of the world can be split between two pairs of shoulders.

Where is this connection, in S6 so far?  We had a whole episode about Bobby, and I will not be shy to say I skipped through most of it.  No offense to Bobby (and none to Jensen, who evidently directed it), because obvs this story has opened up so much since S1 and the surviving supporting characters don’t mean nothing, BUT.  But.  You can’t even reward me with a little Sam and Dean bonding moment for all that?

Oh, right.  This season isn’t about Sam and Dean.  It’s about Dean.  Dean is the main character now, and heaven help me he’s been the main character since somewhere back in S5.  This is a story about Dean, the survivor, who is shackled not only with survivor’s guilt but guilt about having the thing he always wanted AS WELL AS guilt about not knowing how to do that thing right.  I’m fine with this, for the record.  I want to see Dean’s emotional trauma.  That is literally what I’m all about.  But ... where is Sam in this dilemma?  What part does he play?

I read ahead a little, and I know that some of Sam’s not-Samness is literally part of the plot, so I’m acknowledging that it’s there on purpose and not a horrible mistake.  As of this last ep, this season is clearly setting the stage for Dean vs Sam, and not in a brotherly way.  In a “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Sam is the Big Bad of the Season and I bet the next 15 episodes will be similarly strained” way.  It’s that different kind of storyline I asked for, but didn’t want.  Dean can’t engage with Sam in the same way as before, so I can’t engage with Dean (engaging with Sam) at all.

Also, I know there’s no law that says villains have to be likable, but Samuel Campbell isn’t just unlikable, he’s un-engagingly so.  Even if there’s some kind of 11th hour twist and he’s not some kind of mega evil, they’re not shy about leading you down the road where he is that ultimate adversary to overcome.  I mean, I’m being told not to like him, and he’s honestly not characterized as someone I’d like anyway, so I just end up putting all my “meh >:/ “ feels onto not just the character but his narrative reason for existence.  I want this to be a different story (one that I like), but it’s not, and he’s in it because it’s not, therefore the story he’s in is a bad one (that I don’t like).

And I’m still not sure how to express the way the mise en scène screams “CW bitchezzzzz!!!” whereas before it just politely stated “This is Supernatural, a show from the late 2000s on network television.”  This undefinable shift in cinematic tone really rubs me the wrong way and I can’t even discern what the shift is!!!!!!!!!

Also the poor hapless nobodies in the monster of the week episodes seemed to be framed differently.  More intimately?  Like they were real people having a bad day.  So far S6 nobodies really feel like nobodies.  ALSO, TANGENT, there was a particular fine line to the comedy in S1-5 which has become just ... simultaneously garish but also flat in S6 so far.  Compare Pestilence wiping exorcist goop off his face with a subtly outlandish sound effect to, idk, Jared and Jensen lifelessly needling Twilight.

ok so that takes me to my last thought.  We spend five seasons wondering and worrying and panicking about what some demon blood is going to do to Sam, but now in S6 Dean can just be a vampire for like, half an episode and that’s fine.  There’s no gravitas.  No weight.  No stakes (sorry, that’s a pun we’ll just have to live with).  And no payoff!  Sam’s POV is not on the table anymore, for narrative reasons.  He’s not allowed to open himself up for the audience to get a crack at what’s going on in that big ol’ noggin.  So we’re stuck on the outside, with Dean, alone, and that’s the opposite of what I ever wanted to see.

(sorry this literally only just hit me as I was going to post -- where is the rock?  Better question: where is the foundation this show spent five years laying?)

[arianakristine]

@skagengiirl So, this has actually been sitting around in a word document since about 2015 (what I meant by cheating a bit). I’ve taken pieces of the ideas for other stories, but I hope you will enjoy anyway :)

Title: Girl Talk Summary: The Wonder That’s Keeping the Stars Apart collection. A few months after everything settles, a party is held at Granny’s. And Red has a question that’s been bugging her for a while. Some Frankenwolf mentioned.

*

*

“Emma,” a voice calls. She looks up to see Ruby stumbling toward her, her drink sloshing around her glass precariously but not spilling. “There’s my godchild!”

Emma winces, but lets the woman hug her awkwardly in her seat. Ruby falls back into another chair clumsily, giggling all the while.

“You’re such a light-weight, Ruby!” Emma teases, denying the way her own voice came out in a cursive. She can barely hear over the din of people talking and music playing. Granny’s looked more like a bar than a dinner currently, but everyone looked in a good mood.

Ruby takes a sip of the cola-colored liquor and chances a glance behind her. “Emmy, you gotta tell me –“

“Uh, uh, no way, no Emmy. Nix it,” Emma corrects firmly. She points at her directly. “Emma’s short enough, no nicknames needed.”

Ruby cackles. “Fine! Though I’m sure you and your hubby have plenty for each other.”

Her eyes darken as she seeks out Graham from across the room. His hand is curled around the neck of a beer bottle, chatting amicably with David and Archie. He is grinning, that dimpled smile that sends heat straight to the core of her. She sucks in a bit of a breath. “Not my husband … not yet, Ruby,” she corrects. Then she blinks. She must’ve had a couple more whiskeys than she should have, to imply something like that. She turns back to Ruby sharply, but the damage has already been done.

“Are you guys engaged?!” she asks in a stage whisper, her eyes widening.

“Hush, no, we’re not!” she says as she bats at her. “We’re not even really talking about it.”

Unfortunately, even an inebriated Ruby can pick up on the things she’s saying. “’Not really talking about it’? Does that mean you’ve kind of talked about it?”

Emma’s nose crinkles. “God, Ruby, really?” she sighs. She peeks back up at Graham. She can see the way the muscles of his back move through his shirt as he gestures. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, his hands in plain view. She pictures a band around his left ring finger, trying hard to ignore the pleasant tingle that curls up her spine at the thought. “We only really mentioned it once we saw each other again. We’re not talking marriage for real.”

“Bree’s what, almost six months old? What’s the delay?” she asks, her bright eyes trained on hers as she twists a cherry stem between her teeth.

She huffs a sigh. “Nothing, it’s just … we weren’t really together together before he … you know. We’re taking our time.”

Ruby’s brow arches. “You guys have a kid. You’re true love. But marriage is a rush?”

She waves her hand, and then takes a thick swallow of the honeyed whiskey. “We’re doing fine right now; why worry about getting married.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her manhattan. “Whatever. Anyway, what I was saying before: I gotta know something that has been bugging me for ages,” she gushes dramatically.

Emma gestures. “Shoot.”

Ruby’s gaze turns playful. “How in the hell did you wind up pregnant in the first place? I’ve been trying to pinpoint the timeframe.”

Emma grimaces. “Ruby! Seriously?”

Ruby nods enthusiastically. “Yes, seriously! Now, was it after the dart incident? You guys were pretty heated; did you guys have like some angry sex against the cruiser or something?”

Emma gapes at her, slightly insulted. “No! We didn’t have angry sex!”

Ruby presses further, the alcohol making her bolder. “Not angry sex? Did the tension just bubble over and he took you in the middle of the parking lot or something?”

“Ruby!” she hisses. “No! We didn’t have sex that night.”

Ruby is pensive. “Hmm, not that night, then? Was it before? Was that why you were avoiding him when you found out about him and Regina?” she asks.

“Ruby!” she moans out. She takes a gulp of her whiskey, downing it cleanly. “No. Not then, not before then.”

Ruby’s expression turns stunned, training on her in sympathy. It takes Emma a second to realize she just basically told her the day it happened. The same day he died. “Emma, it was that day? Oh, I’m so sorry. Tell me you at least had time to enjoy it.”

Emma buries her face in her hands. “Just enough,” she grouses.

The other woman’s face spreads into a wicked grin. “So, it was good?”

Emma scowls, her first reaction being just to straight tell her off and exclaim that she would never tell Ruby something like that.

Then, it hits her. Ruby’s a friend. A friend like she’s never had. Sure, Mary Margaret and she are fantastic friends, but it hasn’t been the same since the curse broke. They’re family, and things run smoothly like that and they are still closer. But it’s not like it is with friends; not like late nights in the bunks at foster homes or half-whispered convos between girls in coffee shops. She can’t exactly talk to her mother about how good her boyfriend is in bed.

To gather strength, she pulls the open bottle of whiskey from the counter behind them and pours a shot that she downs immediately. She pushes the bottle towards the other woman in invitation. “God, Ruby, you couldn’t have imagined how good,” she finally admits.

Ruby pours over the ice left of her drink and grins impishly. “Girl, we’ve all imagined it,” she says with a wink. “I mean, his looks haven’t exactly gone unnoticed in this tiny town, or even in that massive forest before.”

Emma feels something creep up inside her that feels suspiciously like pride. She pours another glass and smiles into her drink. “He’s even better out of uniform,” she says, feeling decidedly playful.

Ruby’s eyes widen slightly. She opens her mouth to reply when Victor plops down in the chair next to her, pulling her close with arm. “So, Ladies, what are we discussing on this fine evening?” he slurs dramatically.

Ruby frowns. “Girl talk, Victor.”

Victor pouts. “Am I not allowed in on girl talk? Ruby, I will have you know that I am very in touch with my feminine side.” He whips his hair back and then leans into Ruby, smiling widely.

Even though Emma still holds a bit of a grudge against the doctor even months of reconciliation later, she has to stifle her laugh against the rim of her glass. The man is a funny drunk.

Ruby presses a teasing kiss against his lips, just barely brushing them. “Be that as it may, this is private, mister. You may get a reward if you leave now.”

Victor locks eyes with Emma’s and raises a brow suggestively. “Then I should be off. Have fun, lovelies.”

Once he leaves, Emma smirks at Ruby. “So, how’s that going?”

Ruby waves her hand as if pushing away the implication. “Just someone I’m testing. Not making a big deal out of it.”

She laughs. “Testing? Haven’t you been ‘testing’ for two months now?”

Ruby snorts indelicately and raises her cup, the ice tinkling around the glass. “We’ve been dating for two months. I’ve been ‘testing’ for the past week.”

The girls giggle together, and Emma has a sharp feeling of poignancy. She’s never had this kind of friendship with anyone, amicable and teasing without being heavy with other emotion. She finds herself enjoying it. “And? He is …?”

She looks up thoughtfully, tapping a finger on her lips. “Acceptable,” she finally spouts. “A solid 8 out of 10. Room for improvement.” She picks a fleck of polish off her bright red nails. “Proportionate.”

Emma glances up at Graham again, almost shyly. Not-so-sober eyes trace the lines of his body, heat flicking in her as her memory looks past the clothing. She looks back at Ruby. “Not so proportionate. In my favor.”

Ruby gives a noise of approval. “Mazel Tov,” she quips with a coy nod.

Emma takes a sip of her drink, feeling a blush creep up her neck. “God, I must be drunk.”

Ruby grins. “Well, while we’re at it – how did it happen? Y’know, the first time?”

Emma purses her lips, considering. “Quid pro quo?” she asks.

Ruby nods enthusiastically. “Deal. I’ll even go first: we had a real date, you know, dinner, drinks, nice music. He was a perfect gentleman, and we closed down Tony’s. Then went to his place to look at this painting he just got, and once the door closed … well, I just kinda jumped him.”

“Sounds like you waited too long,” Emma chuckles.

Ruby smirks. “And you don’t think you and Graham waited too long?”

Emma rubs her temple. At the time? No. She had been worried that they had rushed things. Hindsight, however, did get her wondering about the what-ifs. “Yeah, well.”

Ruby chuckled and swiped lipstick from around the side of her glass. “So?”

She sighed and pulled her lip through her teeth. She glanced at him once more before meeting her eyes. “I had just had a fist fight with Regina after he broke up with her. He fixed me up, I kissed him, and somehow that ended up with us on the desk.” She grimaces slightly; it sounds subversive in such simple terms.

Ruby’s eyes widen considerably. “On the desk? In the office? Kinky, Emma! I love it!” She seems to think about it a second, shock crossing her face. “Hey, I’ve sat at that desk!”

Emma laughed and pulled up her hair. “Months later, I might add.”

Ruby shook her head with a grin. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at that office the same way ever again.”

“Why would that be?”

Emma doesn’t turn; the voice’s soft rumbling tones, the elongated syllables have alerted her to who exactly is behind her shoulder. She leans into him, and he helps pick up her hair, coiling it into a bun. He easily relaxes into her, the pads of his fingers lightly caressing the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

Ruby is looking at Graham with an openly appreciative glance. Her eyes are steadily focused above the belt, but Emma can see the restraint in the brunette’s eyes. “No reason that you don’t already know, Sheriff,” she teases.

Emma turns her head, pressing her face into his stomach and breathing in his scent. All this talk, the warmth of the liquor in her belly, the smell of him, his nearness … she is suddenly glad she left Brianna with Mary Margaret this evening. “Sorry, Ruby, but I think Graham and I have to go,” she says, giving the woman a pointed look.

Ruby hums an agreement. “We’re not done, just so you know. We’ll talk again tomorrow,” she says with a wink, rising slightly unsteadily in her sky-high heels. “I’ll just find Victor. Have fun, lovebirds.”

Emma stands and rolls into him, her arms crossing behind his neck. She presses a lingering kiss to his lips, which he responds to immediately. “You’ve been watching me again,” he says, a smile in his voice but worry in his eye.

Emma shrugs. “I was just appreciating the view.” She knows what he’s getting at, but this time she wasn’t watching to be sure he wouldn’t disappear.

Graham tightens his arms where they linger at her waist. “We should go home.”

She nods, grabbing her coat. Then, she turns, a different thought on her mind. “Or, we could go to the office. I think I remember something that needs to be fixed over there,” she says huskily.

He raises a brow and pulls her close. “Some desk work you need to finish?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. And I think I need someone to help me jog some memories about the last time the desk was worked on.”

He laughs. “Em, you must be drunk if you’re picking up my sense of humor. Maybe we should just get you to bed.”

She shakes her head, but sways as she takes a step forward, the room spinning slightly, and she wants to groan aloud. “Fine. But tomorrow, we’re going in early.”

He kisses the top of her head. “Let’s get you home, Emma.”

Emma’s seized with the sappiest feeling, and in her inebriated state, lets it come into words. “I’m already there.”

He looks down at her, those dark-blue eyes gleaming. “You’re my home, too, Emma. But let’s also get to a place where we can sleep it off.”

Hugging him, she nods. “The Reason, Graham.”

Slowly, he rubs her back. “The Reason, Emma.” He presses a kiss into her hair, tracing a line down her back.