#surely a score cannot change THAT MUCH from ONE QUESTION

[phosphorus-noodles]

staring down my chemistry professor he regraded one (1) question on the last midterm and my score went from 89 to 51 that better not be real that better be a glitch in the website because if that's real i'm literally going to cry

[sharksupermacy]

k. (pt2.)

k. (pt2.) - jihyo x idol! reader

synopsis: part 2 of k.

genre: angst?, communications actually????, yes ik your response would never fly in asia, mentions of soojin (DO NOT THROW HATE ON HER), swearing, 1.1k words pt1. pt.3

the reason was simple. you had gotten a good enough score on your CSAT to be able to go to any university you desired. So you had set your heart on attending Seoul National University for a M.D. of psychiatry. Maybe it was your desire to know why jihyo had made the decision to break up with you without your approval, or maybe you just wanted to find another way to make people smile. whatever the case, you still got accepted to SNU program in psychiatry.

psychiatry was fun aside from the endless nights of studying, writing papers, and consuming energy drinks. it was still your first year when you started selling some of your songs to JYP for money and when cube entertainment reached out to you.

the email that changed your future again read as follows:

dear y/l/n y/n,

we hope this email finds you well. we were wondering if you were willing to participate in our new upcoming girl group project. although we cannot tell you the names of other members at this time, we can confirm that this will be a seven-member girl group. we heard wonderful things about you from other trainees and entertainment, and we would love to have you on board this project. If you wish to know further details about this group, please come in soon, as this is a limited-time offer.

futher thanks,

cube entertainment staff

you had a dilemma. as much as you wanted to live a normal life as a psychiatrist helping people, something inside you was yearning to take this opportunity to debut. after all, it was what you had trained for over 4 years at JYP for. two hours later, you had reached your final decision. taking up your laptop, you typed out a simple response to the cube team, forever changing the future you had laid out for yourself.

when is the closest available appointment

sincerely,

y/l/n y/n

sent.

time skip (abt a year)

you weren't going to lie that the past years had been brutual being put through evaluation after evaluation, but hey. you had six awesome girls to rely on, and better yet, you had a name to call all of yourselves. (G)I-dle. man, what a name soyeon came up with, and better yet it fit all seven of you very well. it was worth every ache to just debut with this group... i wonder if this is what jihyo felt when she made her debut. you and soyeon even made a song together that ended up on the album, which was kinda cool. 

as soon as you knew it MAMA's rolled around, and you knew that your group excitement couldn't be contained when your arms started hurting from being smacked on the arm so many times by yuqi who was beside you when the news came. as the leader and soojin tried to calm the two youngers down, you were with minnie, and miyeon where a question that threw you off so much was asked innocently by miyeon, "do you think twice will be there?" 

she looked at you, knowing that you were a JYP entertainment trainee who probably knew the most, if twice were going to be there. after all, you guys must have been friends. you responded, scratching the back of your neck a little, and tried to say in a nonchalant way "i'm not sure, but they probably will be there since it's MAMA's."

the older nodded and went back on her phone; however, minnie looked at you for a second, taking note of your unusual response to miyeon. then going back onto her phone, you, on the other hand, were sweating buckets, thinking of maybe seeing your ex at the award show. you still haven't unblocked her number, or any of twice for that matter... but then the thought hit you. 

you haven't unblocked any of twice yet... maybe you should unblock one. you felt bad for dragging all of your and her friends into the messy part of your relationship. debating between the latter, you ended up unblocking one person, mina. you weren't exactly close with her, but you saw the text kept ringing one by one. 216 messages. 125 missed calls. HOLY FUCK- you thought. you didn't even talk to the girl that much, and the last one was on your debut date, May 2 2018.

peguin minguin: happy debut date! hope you're will do well!!! i'm cheering you on!! fighting!!

you bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears from reading the message, before excusing yourself to the bathroom. typing the response to mina. 

traingle goof: thanks mina! I hope your yes and yes promotions are going well!!! i'll be cheering from the sidelines for you!! fighting!!!

returning back to your room after sending that message, trying to help soyeon and soojin calm the youngers down.

mina pov: 

it was another tireless day of promotion, and with our schedule being so packed by JYP, i was ready to just straight out pass out on to the bed.  a thought passed by me to check my phone just in case anything important happened or someone texted me. while scrolling through the notifications quickly, something caught my eye, traingle goof , no way. i screamed causing jeongyeon and nayeon to run quickly to me. jeongyeon gave me the good look up and down and nayeon well she was tired and asking what i was screaming about. i showed them the text. "no fucking way," nayeon says while being hit by jeonyeon who didn't see. 

however, the face on jeongyeon face when she saw the message was priceless; her jaw dropped wide open. she grumbled out a reply, "i don't understand why she would contact you out of all people. she wasn't really that close to you."

i understood her logic for thinking that way, and sure, we weren't really close, but we still understood each other. hell, they were closer than i ever was. i walked over to sana, who seemed to have almost just slept, until i shook her a bit and showed her the messages. she shot up almost immediately, asking me in japanese if the message i showed her was fake. she started texting y/n again, asking if she had unblocked her again. no response. then she turned back to me, asking if i could text her. so i typed out a simple response to y/n

penguin menguin: thank you! are you and your group going to MAMA this year? maybe the j-line and 2yeon could meet up with you guys!

a response was sent. now all she had to do was wait. little does she know that a figure saw a flash of mina screen when walking by.

a/n ok why is this actually like taking more than 2 parts than i thought it would be i promise it will be 3 chapters manifesting it will be. anyways yea MISAMO STREAM IK THEY'RE PROMTIONS PERIOD IS OVER BUT LIKE PLS THIER ALBUM IS LITTERALLY SO PERFECT

[james-stark-the-writer]

terrible news, i tried to watch the Friendly Space Ninja Riverdale finale video again and i think i've pinpointed my problem with his videos, specifically the Riverdale ones but also just his general approach to media criticism, it's just the terrible wave of "objective criticism" we had on youtube with shitheads like Mauler but framed as just a more subjective opinion and it tries to pretend like that makes it any better, which it doesn't, like it really doesn't, because the underlying assumption that there is only one way to tell any type of story is just such a terrible thing for art but also he just fundamentally doesn't understand what type of art Riverdale is and there's just such a sheer lack of even attempting to treat it as a serious piece of art because the assumption is already that because popular consensus is that it sucks (the critical consensus has actually been consistently fucking great, you could just go look at the Rotten Tomatoes scores or even check out the legacy section on Riverdale's Wikipedia page), that means it automatically is trash, it never gets the opportunity to fight for itself because it's never given the chance to be thought of as a piece of art. it's an insistence that writing is the only way to analyze an audio-visual medium and like sure, writing doesn't "age" the same way other elements might, but audiences do age and change and evolve, media criticism does too, there's a reason people appreciate the Star Wars prequels more now than they ever did at release because we understand different ways of appreciating art now beyond the base insistence that conventionally "good" writing is the only thing to aim for (the prequels are actually well written but let's not get into THAT rn), that doesn't make the prequels "bad," it just means the prequels are different. i find the whole good/bad paradigm pretty suffocating in the first place but this is just so exhausting and i cannot believe that I've just managed to articulate it bc it seems shockingly obvious in retrospect.

also the video in question is just like factually wrong multiple times, he flat out admits he skips a lot of the season but then complains that the season doesn't make sense when he's jumping in at a random point, he complains that the previous seasons are meaningless but it's like has he forgotten that the audience doesn't forget stuff even if the characters have (and they even get their memories back in a thematically important and resonant moment the defines who the characters want to be so it's not really even entirely sound criticism) and that the show is intentionally trying to do interesting parallels and reversals of the stuff we've seen before, it's like commenting on itself because season 7 is a nostalgic look back at what the comics have been and what the show started from, and about the nostalgic feelings of that time and their appeal contrasted with the brutal truths of the reality of the situation, like this is just basic art criticism, i'm not even like trying to defend the season, like i don't even like season 7 that much, i think it's one of the more boring seasons and it ranks towards the middle for me, but like this is not like deep criticism where you're thinking and analyzing a lot, this is just seeing what the plot of the episodes is and what they're trying to communicate, it's just really irritating how fucking exhausting the objective criticism shit is but it's actually even more grating when you don't pretend to be superior about it because it makes it seem like you're not even bold enough to stand by your opinions and actually embrace the implication present in the shit you are saying, like it's just cowardice, honestly. but anyway, glad i figured it out, because it was honestly irritating me that i couldn't articulate why i didn't like those videos beyond just them being wrong about Riverdale on like a factual level and him just not understanding what it's trying to say as a piece of art.

the point of this isn't to say that i think he's making these arguments in bad faith or anything, i do think these are genuinely opinions he holds, and they are valid opinions for him to hold, i'm not saying they're invalid, you can prefer one aspect of a piece of media over other aspects because it's more important to you, that's okay, i'm just saying they're misinformed takes and generally display a shocking lack of imagination and respect for art and no desire to broaden his horizons.

anyway, if you actually want to understand the appeal of Riverdale, go through the Riverdale tag on my blog for my own analysis (but here's somewhere to get started), or if you want videos, the Super Eyepatchwolf video is pretty good, i still disagree with it a lot but at least the man tries to understand why people like the show and he even gets some part of the appeal, and we are going to get 4 5-hour videos from Lily Simpson over the next few months so i'm looking forward to those, bc Lily generally tends to at least understand the appeal of the stuff she talks about, and the title of the first video ("the captivating madness of Riverdale" [though i don't love the use of "madness"]) is already enough to make me feel like somebody kinda gets it and hopefully it'll be more coherent actual art analysis.

[vladdyissues]

I LOVE reading your and other people's headcanons on your blog. It's fascinating how many different and amazing interpretations there are of Vlad’s and Danny's relationship. So I thought I could share something too. I was wondering: If pompous pep had a theme or soundtrack, what would their relationship sound like? If you could compose something for them, what would the ideal musical piece look like based on your own headcanons? (regardless of genre and instrument) Due to the different depictions of Pompep, there are countless possibilities for answering this question, which is what makes the whole thing so interesting. I’m not a musician, but I try to describe how I would imagine their dynamic as a theme. I’m a sucker for dark, twisted, and toxic pompep with a lot of miscommunication, power imbalance, and unhealthy relationship dynamics. Their theme would start as a combination of their human themes. Vlad’s song would be quiet, with an unsettling undertone, reflecting his loneliness and longing for love. Danny’s theme—vibrant and playful—would perfectly fill in the “missing” parts in Vlad's tune, creating a nearly perfect harmony. However, as their relationship continues, their ghost halves cause dissonance. Plasmius, whose theme embodies Vlad’s greed, hedonism, hunger for power, and obsessions, would slowly corrupt and manipulate the piece, creating a powerful, melodramatic twist and change of pace. Phantom's moral dilemma would also seep into the theme. He can’t accept that despite their relationship, Vlad cannot and does not want to free himself from his "villainous" behavior. The climax would be messy, dramatic, and devastating. Both half-alive and the only ones of their kind, dancing in a destructive waltz between the borders of the mortal realm and the gates of death as their cores consume each other.

I never gave much thought to an original musical score written for solo Pompep, but this is a great question! As I read your ask I found myself agreeing very much with your descriptions (which were beautiful, by the way, and very accurate, in my opinion). Though I think that Danny's theme wouldn't be solely bright and playful, considering that he's also experienced a lot of teenage angst—bullies, academic disappointment, anger, etc—as well as life-altering consequences of being fried to a half-dead state by his parents' portal. There would be some bittersweet notes in there for sure, perhaps similar in melody to Vlad's theme? Or maybe a segue that joins the great opuses of their lives together. Because that is the one thing they have in common, isn't it? Tragic accidents that altered their lives forever. Turned them into the only two of their kind, just like you said. A beautiful, sorrowful symphony 🎼

[yellowkitkieran]

In My Plans (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: NSFW! Kieran tries to break things off when he gets news of his transfer, but you refuse to let him.

"I'm going to Spain."

Though you're good at hiding your emotions, the pain that flickers across your face is unmissable. It is there and gone, replaced by a bright, genuine smile by the time Kieran has blinked. 

"Baby that's great! You'll get tons of playing time, and you won't have to worry about getting called up for scotland. You'll be a shoe in! They won't be able to say no when they see you scoring more goals than any left back in the prem."

Your hands settle on Kieran's chest, though the gesture provides none of the usual comfort. His stomach has become home to a roiling ocean, complete with thunderclouds and boisterous waves. He's contemplated this all week, trying to decide the best course of action. Spain isn't just a short train ride away like Newcastle would have been. Spain requires a plane, and multiple free days for you to dedicate to visiting him. With so much on your plate already between finishing your degree and hunting for the perfect place to start your career, Kieran can't be selfish. He cannot expect you to set aside what precious little free time you have for him. He cannot, in good conscience, ask you to move with him either. So in his mind, there's only one option. 

Kieran takes your hands in his, cool against his clammy palms. Despite the lack of options, Kieran doesn't want to do this. It will hurt you both, but in the end he believes it to be the right thing to do. So he kisses each of your fingertips one by one, purposely avoiding the question he is sure to find in your eyes. But per usual, you know him too well. His silence speaks volumes, practically screaming his discomfort. You read his mind, plucking the thought from his head and giving it a life by voicing it. 

"I'm not leaving you." 

Kieran sighs, dropping his hands to rest on your waist. Even now, on the brink of losing you forever, he is powerless to keep from touching you. You are his comfort, his person, the one he wishes to be with forever. It's a shame that it has to end this way, but it's best for you in the long run. 

"A full season is a long time to ask you to wait for me-"

"I don't care," you interrupt, firm and unyielding. "You're in my plans Kieran- I know your gaffer let you down when he said that but… you know I won't. I'll follow through. I'm not gonna run away just because I can't see you every day. I love you too much for that. Do you really think I would give this up so easily? That I wouldn't fight for us?" 

The hurt carried on your words is nearly too much for him to bear. "I cannae ask you to wait here for me. I'll be in Spain, you'll be here for school… it's not fair to ask you to wait. I think it's best for us both if we don't drag this out.."

If he's being honest, Kieran has been waiting for this moment. When he's dated in the past, his partners have always left when things got hard. Distance like this isn't something many people are willing to overlook, even in the face of once-in-a-lifetime love. 

"Kieran-" 

"Look, I dinnae ken when I'll be able to come visit, and I know you won't let me fly you out every weekend-"

"Kieran."

He powers on, ignoring your chastising eyes as his hands begin to tremble. "It's too far. It's too long. We can't- I won't let this wreck you, I won't be responsible for that. Maybe if you're single when I get home, we could see about trying again but I don't expect you to be." His world is irreversibly changing and he doesn't like it. He likes the idea of causing you pain even less, though. 

"Kieran. Stop." 

Kieran's eyes are wild like that of a frightened deer. He flinches when your hands come up to his jaw, then settle on either side of his neck. Pulse frantic beneath your fingertips, Kieran searches for any reassurance in your face. He is wound tighter than a cornered lion, set to lash out at anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. 

When your lips meet Kieran's brow, he nearly sobs. "I don't want anyone else." His body shakes when your mouth slowly makes its way down the bridge of his nose, and he lets a tear fall when your kiss soothes his soul. "I want my Kieran, my bold, witty Scotsman and no one else." It's a ghost of a kiss, nothing more than a quiet promise, but it is enough. "Distance doesn't scare me, we can make it work. But losing you? That's terrifying. My worst nightmare." When your fingers thread into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, all of Kieran's fears leave with his exhale. 

"I'm staying," you murmur, holding his gaze when he finally looks up. "I can look after the house for you, sleep here a few nights a week… It'll be nice to be in a place with so many memories when I miss you." Kieran draws strength from your unwavering voice. "I'll keep things clean, make sure it's not so dusty that your allergies act up when you come home to visit." 

Kieran uses his grip on your waist to pull you into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs. Your weight comforts him like it always has, the same way a weighted blanket helps some with their anxiety.  You use the pads of your thumbs to collect the moisture on his cheeks before giving him a proper kiss, one that Kieran finds the energy to return by tilting his head up to meet yours. 

"I love you." Kieran tucks his head in the crook of your neck, arms like a vice around your waist. He's afraid if he lets go, you'll realize your mistake. He is terrified that you might change your mind and walk out his front door without a second thought. He needs you, probably more than you realize. He shouldn't be so attached after only six months, but losing you would feel like playing with a missing limb. 

"And I love you Kieran, so so much. I love you so much that if I wasn't in my last semester, knee deep in my dissertation, I'd drop out and follow you to Spain."

"I wouldn't let you." Kieran shakes his head, nose rubbing your neck as he does so. The sensitivity causes you to squirm, rewarding him with a whiff of your peony and rose perfume. It's the one he picked out for you a few weeks ago, the glass bottle engraved with your name and the date of your anniversary. He loves the way it smells on you, complimenting your shampoo and creating his own personal bouquet that he'd gladly enjoy every day. 

Your voice drops to a conspirators whisper, your breath hot on his ear. "I'd quit in secret darling. You wouldn't know it until I showed up at your doorstep in Spain with everything I owned in two cases."

"Two cases? That's all you'd need?" 

"I'm a light packer." Your cheeks rests atop his head and Kieran feels the last of his fear drain from his overworked muscles. "Mostly it would be the shirts I've stolen from you and some photos in one case, and the other would be filled with books and trinkets. I don't need much to survive, aside from you."

Not for the first time, Kieran is eternally grateful for how adept you are at switching off his brain. When he finds himself on a proverbial ledge, you're the one he wants to have to talk him down. When he feels the weight in his boots, you're the one that reminds him to take them off and shake them out. Your voice is the only one that can quiet the 'what ifs' in his head, leaving behind a garden of promises to be redeemed in the future. 

It might be a purr that Kieran lets out when you card your fingers in his hair again. Whatever it is, it's something born of unfiltered gratitude. Never has he loved someone as hard as he's loved you. He didn't dare dream that someone could love him with the same intensity, let alone someone as perfect for him as you. Kieran could conquer the world with you at his side, his rightful queen who cradles his heart in her hands. 

Kieran feels your cheek lift with a smile when his lips trail over your shoulder, left exposed by the well-worn neck of the shirt you stole from him. He rests his forehead on your damp skin, wanting nothing more than to melt into you until he becomes nothing more than a part of you. 

"I love you." Though he's muttered the words a dozen times in the last hour alone, it still doesn't feel like nearly enough. He wants the seriousness of his love to strike you like cupid's arrow, the heart shaped scar forever serving as a reminder of the man who will one day make you his wife. 

"You keep saying that…" your arm encircles his head, keeping his mouth on your skin. "Why don't you take me up to bed and show me how much you love me, Key?"

Kieran doesn't need to be told twice. Strong fingers dig into your thighs as he lifts you up, reaching the stairs in three long strides. He takes them two at a time, not eager to find his own pleasure but eager to help you find yours. Tonight will be about you and only you, and proving himself worthy of your unwavering love. It won't hurt to give you something to think about while he's gone, either. 

Flicking the lights off as he enters, Kieran sets you in the center of his bed with a tenderness you've come to love. With previous lovers you found yourself craving things hard and fast, wanting it to be over as quickly as possible. But with Kieran? You'd beg for hours with him, each artfully placed kiss or drag of his fingers against your skin leaving you with an insatiable craving for more. 

Your head tips back when Kieran lowers his mouth to your throat, his downy lips leaving shining kisses on your heated skin. You're already desperate for him, desperate to touch and be touched by this god of a man. You know he'll be especially soft tonight after his earlier vulnerability, and somehow that only turns you on more. 

"I love you," he murmurs, accent impossibly thicker than the last time he said it. His brown doe eyes see straight through you, penetrating right to your soul. Something tugs in your chest, heightening your desire and stoking the fire in your gut.  

Sliding your fingers in Kieran's hair, you tug hard until he gets the idea and kisses you properly. It starts soft, nothing more than a peck, but the second his tongue darts over your lips you open for him, wanting him to explore your mouth until he's mapped every bare inch of you. His tongue doesn't fight yours but moves in tandem, complimenting you in the most basic and intimate way possible.

Your leg develops a mind of its own, hitching over Kieran's hip to beg him to come closer. He relents, allowing his hips to press against yours while you helplessly squirm under him. You need something, anything, to ease the ache that has already started in your core. 

Kieran correctly interprets the way you claw at his shirt to mean you want it off. You're left slack jawed when he throws the fabric aside, his bare chest on full display for you. Soft, teasing touches are your weapon of choice as you trace each dip and curve of muscle that makes up Kieran- your Kieran. The only man you ever wish to see this way. 

When your hand reaches the button of his jeans, Kieran's hand circles your wrist to stop you. "Not me- just you." 

Oh, you're in for a long night.

Liquid fire melts you from the inside out when Kieran eases you out of your bottoms and kisses his way down your abdomen. His hot breath ghosts over your folds, already slick with your arousal. 

"I love you so-" Kieran flicks his tongue over your bud, eliciting a moan from deep in your chest, "fucking-" another, harder this time, "much." When Kieran sucks lightly on your clit, your vision explodes with black dots. He's barely done anything at all and you're already whining, his name dropping from your lips like dew as he spreads your juices with his tongue. 

Kieran's chin shines nearly as much as his glazed eyes when he pulls away for air. "Taste so fucking sweet baby- I'll never get sick of it."

"Probably taste even better mixed with your cu-" You gasp when Kieran surprises you by plunging two fingers into you. He pumps them in the perfect rhythm, attuned to your body and what you enjoy. You watch, eyelids heavy, as Kieran sucks on his tongue, then opens his mouth and lets his spit spread over your cunt. 

Your incoherent moans take the shape of his name. 'Kieran' is the only thing you manage to babble out as he fucks you with his fingers, curling them to drag across your gspot with each pass. 

As the seconds tick by, your spine begins to arch. When Kieran adds a third finger you nearly explode- perfectly stretched and wonderfully fitted with just the slightest bite of pain from the fullness. Kieran moans against you himself when you sink your nails into his shoulders, begging for him to be impossibly closer. Muscle ripples under your fingers as he works his own in and out of you, searching for the release he knows you're teetering on. 

You're right there, right-

Kieran's free hand snakes up your stomach to toy with your breast, pinching and squeezing your nipple. That last push of pleasure is all you need to ascend. Mouth open in a silent scream, you unravel around Kieran, his fingers continuing to fuck you through your high as you struggle to breathe. They go still when you suck in air, filling your lungs with sweet, salty scented oxygen as you start to come down. 

Kieran leaves his fingers where they are, kissing the insides of your thighs while you come to. Your heart races for a fair few minutes, though eventually you find enough of your wits to smile at what just went on.

"I that think-" You shake your head, words jumbling in the aftermath of your release. "I think that proves how much you love me. God, Kieran- you're perfect."

You whine when Kieran withdraws his fingers. That whine quickly turns into a moan when he licks them clean, cheeks hollowed to lap up every last bit of you that remains. "I don't think it does… we're gonna need three more rounds at least before I believe it."

And really, who are you to deny him?

"Better get to work then Tierney," you grin, settling back on the pillows and spreading your legs further, "Because the sun is setting. Tick tock."

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

After telling everyone that it is fine if Shoma decides to retire because the most important thing is his happiness, I find myself worrying about it. Does the same thing happen to you? What I think about is right and what I feel are totally different.

I am not sure I am yet in a mindset where I can give you a coherent answer but...

First Shoma did not make any final decision yet at this moment so...

I am constantly changing my mind and feeling about a possible retirement 😅 So yes what I feel and what I know are definitetly two different things and constantly change even 😅

For me personally it's not a question that I want him to continue just for very selfish reasons. Yet the most important thing is that he can retire on his own terms and if he is happy I will be happy too. But it doesn't mean I would not love to see him achieve a happiness in competition too bc I feel like he could not really achieve that this season completely.

On one hand I think it's fine if Shoma retires now bc I feel like he knows he has nothing to prove anymore. He has two world titles, multiple Olympic medals, more medals to his name than most skaters can ever dream of and he is older than the current generation of top skaters like Yuma, Ilia and Adam and I don't feel like medals or titles were this important to himself anyway. So in a way I think he already found some kind of settlement and happiness with what he achieved. And also in a way I don't want to see him being constantly lowballed next season to the others and make him maybe retire bc he feels like he is not wanted anymore and I feel like he had sometimes thought about that with how NHK went and he could not get the scores he would have deserved. So in a way I don't want him to keep up with the circus...

BUT

Shoma also has still so much more to give. And his presence would be missed dearly for the sport that is becoming more than ever to be just about quads. So someone who sets a good example that you can do both is needed. And also this "bad" skate cannot be the end of such brilliant career. It cannot just happen the same way it went for Yuzu 😭 I cannot both lose them the same way. I also don't feel like Shoma has yet figured out what he wants from his future so he can also keep going 😅

I feel like Shoma's recent interview from Worlds does not tend to retirement more than before. So I really think he didn't decide on continuing or not himself at all. What I get is that he has no regrets from this Worlds and that he is not unhappy about being 4th but I don't think he is satisfied with the free skate either. He accepts it and is aware that competing against Ilia is almost impossible with this tech but it didn't sound like he wouldn't want to try to have his own approach.

I think it will really come down to how he weighs his options for the future and what ppl around him say to him. He values the opinions of his team, Marin and his family.

The unfortunate part about himself being unsure is that we probably won't have a final annoucement about any of it for a few months and that's keeping me nervous for a long time and I don't know how to handle this...

[emotionalhotdog]

Why the Little Nightmares 2 ending is (kinda) flawed

Opinion. but the Little Nightmares two story was not as good as the first one.

Like, don’t get me wrong. It’s a phenomenal game, with great gameplay mechanics and a fantastic score. The design is eye melting and Tarsier Studios really weaved care and love into the game. The story isn’t even that bad - it’s just the ending I have a problem with.

Why did Six drop Mono?

Like, genuinely. What was her motive? This kid just risked his life many times just to get this? I guess there are a few theories, with Six being aggravated that Mono destroyed her music box, the one thing that brought her comfort in the darkest of places and situations. It could also be that it was the Black/Signal tower manipulated her, or she lost a bit of her soul when captured by the Thin Man and thus her compassion and empathy with it that would drive her to make such a decision. Maybe she would even realise that Mono, her seeing his face fully now, eclipsed by no hat, was the Thin Man. Any, all, or none of these reasons could be true.

But the action itself is confusing - if Six really is as cold and calculated as the fandom perceived her to be, wouldn’t she just use Mono as a means of survival, ditching him only when she had no other use for him or was unable to save him from a monster? Why does she, with the opportunity to lift him up, while they’re in crazy danger (with the Black Tower collapsing and such) decide to leave him behind? And not only that, but look him in the eyes while she dangles him above a yawning abyss?

The thing is, there’s no real answer to what Six’s motives were. It feels more like it’s meant for shock value, and not to serve as an ending.

And then it gets worse.

Mono survives the fall. You, reeling from betrayal and with nowhere else to go, find a chair within the Tower. And, slowly, you grow up from a child to a teenager, to an adult, then, finally, the best age, Thin Man.

This opens another can of worms, introducing the time loop theory (which frankly, I don’t like very much) and the idea that Mono was chasing… himself…

This could explain why Mono and the Thin Man’s powers are alike, and that the Thin Man was trying to ‘save’ his younger version of himself from being betrayed by his best (and probably only) friend. But that begs the question, how did the Thin Man escape the Black Tower? I thought the whole point was that he was trapped there, with the Tower feeding off his soul of whatever.

Honestly, the best part of the ending is the music. End Of The Hall perfectly captures not only Mono’s feelings, but the rising tension and the passage of time. It’s one of my utmost favourite tracks of all time.

But, back to the ending, and my final thoughts about it. When I think about it a bit more, it just seems like the Devs ran out of ideas when it came to the story, and decided to write a shock ending, to keep people speculating. Personally, I don’t like it when stuff like this happens.

So, let me propose an alternative ending.

Say the two get closer and closer to the exit, with Mono ahead, and the Tower crumbling around them. Mono reaches out his hand for Six to take, and she accepts the invitation. As they make it to the exit, a particularly large piece of debris falls on Mono, trapping him in the Tower. Six wants to help him, but he sort of signals to her to keep going. She reluctantly leaves, and thus, he dies, watching as she leaves while he cannot.

Is it anticlimactic? Sure. This ending doesn’t really explain a lot of in-game events, such as the nightmare at the beginning, the existence of the Thin Man, and Mono’s powers. But this ending was kind of fun to write, even if it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I could never make a game like Little Nightmares one or two, and really, the story of both games are both intricately made and packed with details and genuine love for what was being made. One ‘bad’ ending won’t change how much I love this franchise.

Anyway, this post is way too long. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[maximumcheese]

Playing Cards - They Stand Shoulder to Shoulder 2

Location: ES

Hiiro: I told you that…I had a talk with Tenshouin-senpai before our conversation on the phone in the rose garden, right?

Mayoi: Yes. On the car ride home…You had told us that you were in the office reading fan letters.

Hiiro: It was a confusing, unclear series of questions and answers. However, from that moment on, I really began to care.

How will I meet my fans’ expectations? How should I grant Tenshouin-senpai’s wishes? What is an idol, even?

I was told to think a lot about it, and I’ve been really thinking about until today but—

In the end, I wasn’t able to answer that question for myself. On reflection, since I was a little kid, nothing has changed.

Tatsumi: Since you were a little kid?

Hiiro: Even at that time, I would always keep thinking about what Nii-san had asked me.

At that time, I had an answer in mind, more-or-less but—

Because I didn’t want to disappoint him by saying the wrong thing, so I thought that I just wanted to think about it more carefully.

Because, if you cannot give the right answer, it’s the same as being unable to fulfill your duty. It’s only meaningful to answer the question when you have the right answer, right?

Aira: Yeah? But it’s not a problem on a test, it’s just a question, right?

It’s not like a test at school where you get a score, so isn’t it harder to give an answer that fits perfectly?

It’d make me happy to hear your thoughts on just that, Hiro-kun.

I look at you, who can do anything, and there’s times where I think to myself “What the hell is guy?” and get super frustrated.

If even Hiro-kun is worrying and thinking like this, I can see that we’re really just the similar in that way.

Hiiro: …hm. I wish I could have a flexible way of thinking like you, Aira.

This time around though, I understood that both back then and now, I’m only brooding about, and that I have no confidence in the conclusion I reached. I felt like I didn’t grow.

Tatsumi: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

While you are bold enough to take action, on the other hand, you are also capable of holding your ground to make a careful judgment—

Hiiro-san, isn’t it possible that your virtue to thoughtfully react to questions has stayed the same since you were a child?

Mayoi: That’s right. And you have had a lot of growth, too.

Compared to when we first met, you’ve grown dramatically in singing, dancing, and movements. If you can take my word for it, I can guarantee that.

Being a person who doesn’t know much about idols, I’m amazed at the amount of growth you’ve accomplished over just one summer.

Even if you’re not similar to the others, we can work on the parts that you feel inexperienced at from this point on. Because we will help you as much as you need…♪

Aira: Senpais, you’re very parent-like when you say that.[1]

Hiiro: Was that just a haiku? No, if you don’t use the seasonal word, isn’t it considered a senryu haiku?[2]

Aira: No, I’m not reciting a poem…

Hiiro: Fufu. Thank you all for really talking with me a lot.

If only I could have answered with self-confidence. If only I could have been able to take action for Alkaloid, with my own judgment…

I feel very guilty for the crisis that I have caused to everyone, and I will reflect upon my actions.

To know that I have comrades who are close to me, it’s very reassuring. I feel more light-hearted now.

Mayoi: We are happy to see your smile, too, Hiiro-san…♪

Tatsumi & Aira: ……♪

Hiiro: Like Mayoi-senpai said, I was able to grow a lot.

I’ve come to learn the common sense of the city, and of course, there are countless things I’ve gained since becoming an idol…For me too, I’m sure I figured out a couple of things, too.

I’ll think more optimistically from here on again. For a clear answer to Tenshouin-senpai, and what I can do for Alkaloid.

Tatsumi: That’s right. There is nothing that you have to face by yourself, Hiiro-san.

The fact that a good result is required of Alkaloid, it’s a problem that affects the entire unit.

Sooner or later, regardless of who started it, we would have something to confront.

Aira: I think if I had started it, and if Tenshouin-senpai had come at me like that…To be honest, it’s a scary thought.

That’s why it’s great that Hiro-kun thinks through everything and speaks up about it properly ♪ You’re fine! Have some self-confidence!

Hiiro: It’s a bit of a strange feeling to get praised by you, Aira.

Aira: Hah~? I’m trying to cheer you up here!

Tatsumi: There, there. It’s embarrassing to get praised by Aira-san, isn’t it, Hiiro-san?

Aira: Eh~? Then choose that kind of language from the start.

Mayoi: ………

Hiiro: Why are you so quiet, Mayoi-senpai?

Mayoi: While I was listening to your pleasant conversation I…I began to think again.

I thought about what I’d like to try with Alkaloid, and what I’d like to act on.

Hiiro: Did anything come to mind?

Mayoi: No…

Nothing comes to mind, so I’ve started to wonder what we can do to get something we can call a good result, and also remove the obstacles in the way of our objectives.

To put it simply, to win some sort of award. But in reality, to become so popular that you’ll have a schedule where you’re counting down by the minute—

It’s the height of being an idol…It’s not like we ourselves covet the status of being popular figures.

Aira: We're the younger generation. Yeah, we’re not really hungry for power. 

I mean, have you ever thought of aiming to become one of ES' Big 3?! Honestly, I haven’t.

Tatsumi: The Big 3….Hm. If popularity ranking is visualized on the foundation of a clear, numerical value of L$, it may be an appropriate indicator of authority within ES.

Aira: But numbers aren’t everything, right?

Even for a term like “top idol”, everyone has different criteria for what makes someone at the top.

In my case, I call someone a top idol when I can point at them and call them great but…

How well they sell, their ability, popularity...Financial power? It's not like the top idols in every sphere are all the same

Mayoi: Yeah. Even after this much deliberate thinking, there’s no way that we can just come up with something so suddenly, after all…

Tatsumi: The realization seems to be setting in that viewing things from an ordinary perspective will not do—For both close goals, and far goals

Hiiro: ….That’s right but. It’s just one thing, but something came to mind for me.

Aira: Huh, when?

Hiiro: Less of being something that I want to do, it’s more of something that came to mind.

It’d be a job for everyone in Alkaloid, and not only can we act on it at once, but I have a feeling that we would rake in some good experience.

I was told it was a happening on a large scale…We should be able to get good results from it.

Aira: W-Wait a sec. Don’t leave me hanging, hurry up and tell us.

Hiiro: —Yes.

Let’s do a live. With Alkaloid, let’s participate in Underland.

In Japanese, what Aira says here is a 5-7-5 syllable pattern, which is a haiku

A senryu haiku is a type of haiku that is usually a dark comedy about human fallacies

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[f1]

F1 cannot intervene to make championship more competitive Domenicali | RaceFans Round-up

In the round-up: Formula 1 CEO Stefano Domenicali says Red Bull deserve their success and the series won’t make changes to help their rivals become more competitive. In brief Budget cap will close up the competition – Domenicali Red Bull have won all five races so far this year, including four one-twos, and only lost one of the last 15 rounds. Domenicali insists it isn’t a foregone conclusion they will win the championship again, but ruled out making any changes aimed it making the season more competitive. “This year, we need to say the truth: Red Bull did a better job than the others, it’s a fact,” he said at an event run by the Financial Times. “But I would be imprudent to say the championship is finished. “We cannot intervene in the performance of the teams. I am sure what we did in terms of financial regulations will help to minimise the gap on the technical side.” Tsunoda hopeful for AlphaTauri’s “big update” Most if not all the F1 teams are expected to bring updates for this weekend’s Emilia Romagna Grand Prix. Yuki Tsunoda, who has scored both of AlphaTauri’s points so far this year, wants to see big gains from theirs. “We’re going to have hopefully a big update [at] Imola,” he said in response to a question from RaceFans. “So hopefully that will work well.” Now in his third year as an F1 driver, Tsunoda says he has raised his performance this year and is getting more from his car than he used to. “The driver needs to extract performance as much as possible from the car,” he said. “So it’s good that I am able to definitely extract the performance every race, more than last year, which is good. I have to keep [going] like this.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

[absolindiatg]

How to Solve Your Cibil Score Dispute?

Every person who has applied for a loan or is considering doing so has to be informed of their Free Cibil Score as well as Credit Information Report. This report's importance to the approval of your loan cannot be overstated. Although many are aware of this, most of us do not realise that your CIBIL score doesn't really determine whether or not your loan will be accepted.

The importance of the Free Cibil Score Check as well as report in the loan application process is something that we are all very much aware of. Because of this, it is imperative that our cibil report be in order. The tiniest of data will determine whether or not our loan application is accepted. Let's examine the methods used to address the conflicts that individuals have brought. When you Cibil Score Check Free and your score is quite lower than you anticipated, there is obviously nothing you can do (apart than paying for the report). However, you can take a close look to determine the cause of a poor credit score and check to make sure that the information is accurate at the same time.

A Cibil dispute may be brought up if:

Your name, birth date, social security number, or residence address are incorrectly entered.

Your bank account details, which includes information on past loan status, last payment date, remaining balance, and other similar specifics, may be questioned.

Your account details and your private information are inconsistent.

If your account is displaying information more than once.

Make sure you are certain that an error has been committed in your credit report already when you raise a dispute. Let's now examine the overall procedure used to resolve a cibil-related issue.

Step 1: File a complaint online using the official website.

Step 2: Write down the reference number that is listed on your application.

Step 3: Based on the dispute type, a decision is made. For clarification, if necessary, a financial institution referenced in your report may be contacted.

Step 4: The lending institution responds to the request by stating whether the disagreement is legitimate or not. Depending on which, the original data will need to be modified.

Step 5: Paisabazaar Cibil Score Free incorporates the adjustments, issues a new report, and updates the customer.

These types of conflicts can take anywhere from 30 to 45 days to resolve in total. The benefit of resolving these problems is that they result in a lasting change that is unquestionably for the better and not just a temporary clearing of your records. Therefore, do not even you think it makes sense to be aware of the specifics of resolving concerns with your credit report so that you may move forward with the loan procedure without difficulty? It's crucial to realise that if My Cibil Score is below the cut-off set by banks, nothing or no one can assist you; only the aforementioned difficulties can be brought up.

[kararisa]

marigold promises

— 05. enigma [☕︎ = 0.7k words]

It's been years since the last time you and Albedo compared scores like this.

Both of you were young when he first brought up the idea. Comparing scores would give you both something to work towards, a number to beat. A simple yet effective solution.

The two of you have always been competitive when it comes to academics, even when you were children. But the two of you used to work together to grasp the subject matter, helping each other if there was something the other didn't understand — nothing as cutthroat as how the two of you are now, hellbent on upstaging the other.

The playful competitiveness you had in the past was different. Now it's rooted in wanting, needing, to outdo the other.

Over time his glares have mellowed out, your words losing their hostility. Yet still he is an enigma to you, an unanswerable question; showing you kindness in one moment and then teasing you in the next. Top one won't just be handed to you, so you can't afford to let your guard down. He's not the boy you once knew, not anymore.

These past few weeks, you've struck a mutual understanding with Albedo. At least you think you have. No mentions of your past, of gold-tinted skies as you ran through an overgrown garden, of late nights watching the stars while studying for your finals. Both of you know better than to be distracted by sentimentality.

So you didn't exactly know how to feel when he brought up wanting to compare scores with you again.

Albedo waits for you by the doorway as the rest of your class files out of the lecture hall, dismissed early by your professor. He greets you with a nod as he walks up to you, quiz in hand. A part of you cannot help but hope that he misses this as much as you do.

"I hope you're ready to lose, Cupcake."

The teasing lilt in his voice makes your blood boil, "You wish, Sunshine."

You couldn't help but be proud of yourself for how you did in the quiz — a '104%' written in red ink on the upper right corner of your paper. A careless mistake had cost you one point but the bonus question definitely helped. Surely it's enough to beat whatever score he has.

The two of you countdown and show off your scores to the other at the same time.

A 105% greets you. Mocks you.

"104. Not bad, Cupcake. That's a pretty good score," he says. 

"Don't even start. I only got one mistake," you say.

"I mean it. It's not every day someone gets a score above 100."

"And it's not every day that you of all people get a higher score than me."

He smirks as he leans closer, his face mere inches from yours, "You should count on it to happen more often." His words don’t lose their edge, your glare unwavering.

A moment later, he leans back and tucks his quiz back into his bag, "If you don't have anything else to say, I'll be off. We should do this again."

You don't respond as he leaves.

A stupid, careless mistake — that’s all it was. So why does it sting so much? Logically you know there will always be another chance to get a higher score than him, but why does he always have to dash every victory you get to the dirt? His intelligence has always been effortless; he never needed to put much effort into studying, always better at understanding the concepts that flew over your head. You were smart, but not smart enough for your liking. It would always take you countless nights of studying just to catch up to him.

Time and time again you have been in his shadow. Others would always compare you to him and while you never held it against him, it didn’t stop resentment from brewing. He was the one person who understood you, who grew up with you. Then he just left. Does he still respect you or does he simply view you as an obstacle to first rank?

You cast your feelings aside and make your way toward the library. There's still a lot of work left to do, and time stops for no one.

— previous || masterlist || next

summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.

author's notes: our first written chapter ^^ ngl i'm a bit nervous as to how this will be received but oh well. i've been swamped by hw this week but hopefully it won't get in the way of future updates too much.

featured song: People I Don't Like by UPSAHL

taglist (i): @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx @aiikalvr @yaefics @ch35hir3 @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns @sweetbunnybunbun @dee-zbignuts @redactedhimbo @yurstepm0m @fanfictwarrior @fuyaa @saoiirsee @ireallylikehamsters @elfxiao @cloudxemoji @kitsuvil @orionicchaos @blurr3db3rry @semi-orangeapple @kunikuzushiit @atlatcaheart @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @jewelscara @lost-wicked-artist @kairxse @elysiasbae @eurekatanya @ruicantread @tatiratty @zannivrs @mikismusings @sunoo-bby @astolary

— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn't highlighted it means i can't tag you.

[comicaurora]

Do you find questions about lroe and logistics annoying? How do you draw the line between 'thinking the story is cool and wanting to know how something works' and 'trying to poke holes in the story to feel better about themselves'?

TLDR: It doesn't annoy me, but I do ignore anything that I don't think would produce an interesting answer. There is no line, but I do have thoughts.

I think a lot of media analysis and criticism centers on an invisible variable that is often overlooked, and that variable is "what standard are we holding this story to?"

Media criticism often described as "bad faith" tends to hold stories to standards like real-world physics, shot continuity or other small-scale and potentially irrelevant metrics that have nothing to do with the story's plot, morals, stated goals or overall themes, and will instead - as you put it - poke holes in the story in an apparent attempt to feel smart or score points. This criticism isn't asking how well the story is succeeding at telling itself, it's finding things to complain about by whatever metric is most convenient for that.

This isn't limited to media criticism. In fact, it's the same underlying structure behind almost all forms of bullying. There is nobody perfect enough to be completely uncriticizable, and there is no story that cannot be picked apart with an uncharitable enough angle. If your goal is to pick something or someone apart, you can always find a reason. And a story that's perfect from one angle can be shredded a hundred different ways from a million other angles.

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but one difficulty people encounter when writing any form of representation, for instance, is the existence of opposing stereotypes. If you write a female lead who's demure and gentle, she's playing to a feminine stereotype - that's a criticism point. If you write one who's brash and strong, oopsies, you're tacitly indicating that she can't be a protagonist without ditching her traditionally feminine qualities, thus indicating those qualities are bad! Criticism point. No matter what kind of character you write, you can be criticized for the stereotypes they fulfill and criticized for the stereotypes they defy. There is no way to write a character who cannot be criticized, and it's especially visible for characters in heavily stereotyped demographics.

And there are forms of representation or allegory that work for one thing but are terrible if interpreted as something else, once again producing angles of attack that you can be criticized for. Suppose you have a character whose arc is fundamentally about learning to accept themselves for who they are rather than changing themselves for the approval of others. This can be read as a positive and self-affirming arc for all sorts of identities, but if you reach, you can also read this as advocating against things like transitioning. And on the flip side, if you tell a story about someone changing themselves to be happy, it can be read as a toxic message for people struggling to accept themselves for who they are.

Because of this, it is impossible to write any sort of story that cannot be criticized, and it is unhelpful to act like a story that can be criticized is automatically in some way deficient or morally bad. If you find the right angle, anything can be criticized or deemed problematic in completely legitimate ways. Not enough of this, too much of that, what we got wasn't what I wanted, etc etc.

"Can I find a reason to criticize this" is an unhelpful and often unpleasant mindset. The answer is always yes, but it has the twofold impact of making the permacritic rather unpleasant to talk to (constant negative reinforcement will do that, see the "bullying" thing above) and making it very difficult for the permacritic to actually engage with media in any sort of helpful way. This school of criticism does not ask "what standard should I be holding this media to?" Without controlling for that variable, the criticism is just a lot of complaining.

When criticizing, I think it's very important to maintain focus on that question of the standard you're holding the story to, and the underlying corollary, "what is the story trying to be - and is it succeeding?"

I've seen media criticism that boils down to "this is not the story I wanted it to be." Valuable information, but not a helpful criticism to level at the story itself. Rather than taking the story at face value and judging it on its own merits, it holds it to the standard of a different story. This is where you get things like fix-it fanfics where people change the story to fit what they wanted to see. While I don't have a personal objection to this - fans can do what they want, and if someone wants to see a specific story I think one of the best things they can do is realize that and make that story - I think I'd personally steer clear of it. One of the joys of consuming media is seeing stories I'd never personally be able to think of, and holding all those stories to the standards of my own limited creativity feels like a good way to guarantee that I never grow and improve as a writer.

But if we hold a story to the standards of itself, there's still plenty of criticism to be had! And this is, I think, where valuable criticism lies. If we can figure out what a story is trying to do, we can determine how well it succeeds or fails. If a character is supposed to be overwhelmed with grief but the performance feels shallow and poor, that gives us a solid point of criticism - the story is failing to convince us of its own point, "this character is sad." If a fight scene is supposed to be frenetic and brutal but the editing is so frantic that we can't make out any of the coherent movement, the cinematography is disrupting our ability to buy that this is a serious, perilous fight scene.

This is why I think authorial intent is a very valuable factor in criticism. It isn't the only factor, but it gives us something very solid to measure against. When we're asking "what is the story trying to do?" and we find a comprehensive, clear answer to that, we can follow up with our subjective judgment "how well did it do that, and how and why?" This is the kind of vivisection that tells us how the story is really put together and lets us learn from it.

Without the question "what is the story trying to do," all our criticism is completely unhelpful from an artistic perspective. Does it matter that a scene doesn't conform to the laws of physics? Only if the scene is supposed to conform to the laws of physics! Does it matter if a background prop moves between takes? Only if the prop is important! What lessons can we learn from scattershot complaining that aims to find something wrong with every single frame of a story? We learn nothing, because even if every single "error" was "fixed", this school of criticism could find the exact same number of problems on a second pass. Any artist could tell you that perfection is unattainable and a work can always be criticized. The only people who think "I found something wrong" is an exceptionally clever observation are generally not artists, and typically don't volunteer helpful feedback for artists.

So to get back to your actual question, I think it's pretty easy to tell when someone is approaching your story from a place of affection or curiosity and when someone's just looking to score points off you or take out their personal frustrations on the closest target. There's no hard line because the difference isn't in the critical process, it's in the underlying approach. A bad-faith criticism can stumble on a solid point once in a while, but the critic still won't gain or give anything valuable from the experience. They're just racking up points.

[introloves]

jax....i would like to discuss alpha!meian claiming omega!reader when she comes around the other msby alphas like i cannot get it off my brain!! i just think he would mark you in the most possessive ways GDOHEHEKS

alpha! meian + a.b.o dynamics + possessiveness + jealousy + marking + scenting +clothing ripping + public sex (locker room) + sweaty sex + knotting + creampie + accidental exhibitionism + f! reader

— word count; approx 1.4k

the routine after a heavy game like this is usually detonated by heavy glances from meian. you’re signaled to stick close right after games- he knows the thick heat of mostly alphas hangs heavy in the air, knows that even though you belong with him, to him, the heavy pang of jealousy is still there.

there’s games where it's easier, where the scores aren’t as tied as they are now, days where him and his team win and it's no time at all before he takes you home, sweat lined face pressing against your neck while his massive form curls down onto you.

he says it's easier for his scent to stick right after a game, maybe it's the endorphins and pheromones pumping through his body, consciously streaming out heavy and warning notes of his smell, an intimidation tactic that he usually wins.

meian is just so… big and strong, he’s the poster child of what an alpha should be, of what a fertile, loving, caring, protective alpha is.

all those characteristics melt down into one capable man that has you to take care of now, he’s proud to have you and sometimes that translates into jealousy- like now.

he could have sworn you were right next to him, needing your body close to him after such an intense game.

it's pure luck for everyone else that he's so tall, not needing to barrel through bodies in order to find you. there’s that tight ball of anger forming when he sees the backs of bokuto and atsumu, hands outstretched to receive water bottles they probably asked for, but that’s not your job.

with three steps, he’s on them both, thick hand- red and heated from all the spike’s he's deflected clamping down around the napes of their necks- he can see and smell the way they bristle with the contact, ready to fight before his own scent lays heavy over them, settling back down into meek little pups, knowing to bow down to the older and stronger alpha.

“why are you askin’ her for water?” he questions lowly, eyes pinned on you- no anger there while he gazes down at you, just pure love and want. his voice is a deep rumble, however, clearly displeased.

“t-the trainers busy!” atsumu balks, and you look at him with wide eyes, usually it's best for them to stay quiet and let him run his course, but atsumu is still pumped up from the victory.

you look back up at meian and your own knees go weak with his lowly growl, watch as they try and get away, but the hands digging into their backs only further push them down- it’s an embarrassing act, everyone surrounding them intently reacting to an alpha that strong make a brazen act of dominance.

they both kneel easily, bowing their heads, only letting up when he walks to you- bending down and kissing your precious, now pouty mouth- cupping a heated face with his big, rough hands.

“time to go?” you question sweetly, enough so that he calms down- grinning deeply against your mouth before nodding, his cock already swelling with the promise behind your carefully covered intentions.

because as much as he needs to take claim, you're the one who always initiates it, batting lashes at him with every glance towards you in the stands, soft hands curling hard into his jersey when he runs to you and scoops you up- it's all there, the need for your big, strong man.

he decides that this time around he’s the one who simply cant wait, tugging your hands through the halls of the gym, careful to not hurt you- but walking with authority and his chest puffed out in pride.

there’s a soft look to his eyes while he sits down on the bench of the locker room, thick thighs splayed out beneath his silky looking black uniform- still gleaming with sweat.

the harsh glare from beaming lights just makes him look so good, it's easy to fit your body against his own, already throbbing with just feeling his half hard cock against you.

roaming hands find themselves splayed over your back in support and slowly inching up your neck to hold there, all the while nosing along the pulse point in your neck, tongue so thick and wet licking lines to the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

he relishes with every whine tumbling forth from your lips, whining already and wiggling so cutely- you smell good, changing into an overwhelming, mouthwatering scent that makes his mouth water and cock jump harshly.

“s-shugo, please!” you gasp, his teeth slowly grazing over your shoulder, making sure the side of his still sweaty face runs along the side he’d just licked at.

it’s his job to listen well to your pleads, quickly tugging his cock from his uniform, standing upright with how hard he is, swollen at the base with his thick knot, painting your tummy with precum that you whine should be inside you.

he chuckles with how greedy his precious girl is, nodding in agreement, watching your eyes widen when his hands reach down to your ass, blunt nails digging into the roundness of it- all before catching the material and tearing you free for him.

your mind all but blanks with the display of impatience, barely able to register the way he picks you up off his thighs and onto his cock, pulling you down so good the swell of his knot lays tight against your throbbing cunt.

there’s no build up, not when his mind is this overrun with the dizzying, wet heat of your cunt, barely letting him breathe.

hands eagerly gripping your side to pick you up, settling just the swollen tip of his red cock inside, watching with lidded and a predatory gaze pinned to you, watching and hearing you hiccup as he impales you down on his cock over and over.

the pleasure of him using you like this so very apparent to your already teary eyes, unfocused, wandering to his eyes and down to his lips over and over.

it doesn't take long at all for you to cum, legs pinching, squeezing around his hips in order to have him relent just a little while you cum all over him, heated gushing cum of yours painting the swollen base of his cock so well- running down to messily cover the wiry hair there as well.

this is when you look sweetest, head tipped back, swollen, battered walls nearly squeezing his still throbbing cock into you.

it's also when he thinks it's easier to pull you down, shoving the tight swollen knot into the still pulsing into your cunt, hand coming up to pull your spasming body down, wanting to feel your stretched, soaked, puffy lips against his balls.

leaning to seal a messy, and clumsy kiss to your panting mouth, wanting to swallow down any and all whines, small screams finally tumbling forth when you feel the stretch of him.

watery eyes just pinched tight, feeling the grumble of a lowly howl when his cock swells- spilling cum up your battered walls, his knot securely sealing any of it inside.

the locker room sways when your eyes finally open, eyes wide while he stretches you with his cum.

it feels so thick- his knot, thick cum, hand still pulling you nice and tight to him you can barely breathe.

there’s nothing said, he knows you take him well- you’re made for his cock, made to satiate the burning need swirling deep in his stomach. leaning down to plant his forehead onto your own, he coos at your still dumbed out expression.

“my good girl, sweet baby.” meian pants, fingers securely digging into your side- tongue reaching out to lick at your feverish skin, catching your cheek- corner of your mouth in a soothing motion.

there's nothing else you can focus on when you're like this, shaking while the throbbing knot settled deep inside you, the one he’s shoved in keeps you nice and still.

he keeps you like this, minutes ticking by before it finally deflates, licks increasing in frustration, when his hot cum leaks down onto him.

your own body weak to his movements, letting him care for you like he knows.

there’s the presence of his team standing outside the room, he knows this- can smell it, but they'll just have to wait until he cleans you up to change. sharp ears picking up the sound of increased panting.

him being balls deep inside you- there’s no jealousy this time, only an unbridled pride when he realizes they all heard how well an alpha fucks his baby.

[tennessoui]

“Honestly, just stop it.” for the 4 word prompt ? maybe a little omega obi and alpha ani?

mid not totally okay to just make it what ever?

!!! hey yes of course!!! this is set in the same universe as "you be the tightrope, i'll be the safety net" (side note i cannot believe how popular this fic has become and i'm so happy to watch it climb and grow and be enjoyed.......we LOVE a bitchy obi-wan, as is our right)

(from this prompt fill)

(1k)

It hadn’t taken much effort on Obi-Wan’s part to score an invitation to Anakin’s 10 year high school reunion.

He’d found the invitation in the trash, carefully ripped into eighths, and taped it back together while the pasta water boiled merrily on the stove and the twins laughed at each other across the dining room table.

If Anakin really hadn’t wanted him to find it, he would have shredded the entire letter so it was impossible for Obi-Wan to read.

He loves his husband though, so he waits until Anakin gets home from work to bring it up, resisting the impulse to RSVP before he talks to the alpha at all.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t do anything underhanded. He is, after all, invested in a singular outcome, one he knows Anakin will protest for a handful of very good reasons. So while the beef stroganoff is bubbling on the stove, five minutes before his alpha usually gets home, Obi-Wan goes to their room and changes into a short shirt, one that just shows the swell of his pregnant tummy. He’s almost five months along now, and if he’s learned anything from the twins and the past four months, it’s that Anakin can’t stand to say no to any of his requests while he’s carrying his children.

Typical alpha.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin calls as soon as he gets home. “Leia, Luke?”

Like they’d be anywhere else besides waiting for him to come back to them, Obi-Wan thinks with a roll of his eyes as he re-enters the living area of their apartment.

Anakin hasn’t even taken off his shoes or dropped his bag to the ground before he flies to him, kissing over his face and then down to nuzzle into his stomach and press a kiss against the bump of their baby.

“Hello, darling,” Obi-Wan says. Quite normally, in his opinion. So normally, in his opinion, that he even continues. “How was your day, Alpha?”

Anakin stops, lips pressed against the swell of his stomach. Damn, Obi-Wan thinks to himself. Of course the alpha who’s known him since he was a child would also realize something is up, baby be damned.

“Fine,” Anakin says, taking a step back with one last devastating sweep of his hand over the baby bump. “Why?” 

Obi-Wan should probably be insulted that the alpha thinks he needs to have an ulterior motive in order to ask him about his day. He should, but he doesn’t. Anakin is, after all, absolutely correct.

“Mine was fine as well,” Obi-Wan informs him, pulling away from the alpha’s hold and picking Luke up in order to bounce him in his arms—partially because it’s been far too long since he held his child, and partially because surely the image of himself with child and with a child—Anakin’s child—will only serve him well.

The alpha, so smart and so clever, narrows his eyes, even as he steps forward to kiss Luke on his tiny forehead. “Honestly, just stop it, baby. Obi-Wan. I can smell it. You want something.”

Obi-Wan changes strategies again, lifting the child into Anakin’s arms so he can pick up Leia. “I do,” he tells him as truthfully as his alpha has requested. Unable to help himself, he places a kiss to his daughter’s cheek before resting the two-year old against his hip.

“What?” Anakin asks him. His tone is the same tone he always uses to ask this sort of question: like he’d give anything to him that he could possibly ask for, provided that he wants it.

For a second, Obi-Wan is so overcome with sheer love for his Anakin that he is struck speechless. He nuzzles against his nose instead. 

“I saw the invitation,” he finally brings himself to say, leaning back against the counter. “To your high school reunion. Ten years, Anakin. It’s a big deal.”

“It’s not,” Anakin says immediately, just as he knew he would. And a second later, “and how did you even see that? I tore it up.”

“I have my ways,” Obi-Wan replies mysteriously, imperiously---as if he still doesn’t have kitchen scraps of vegetables that he’d thrown into the garbage before he’d seen a scrap of the flyer and dug beneath the mess to rescue--- beneath his nails. “We should go.”

Anakin scoffs. “Why on earth would we go?”

“Because you’ve never once in your life turned down the chance to talk about the twins,” Obi-Wan offers immediately. “Because we have another child on the way. Because I love you and the more people I can tell that I love you the better. The best.”

“Obi-Wan, I think if I responded to that RSVP and told them I was taking a plus one, they’d bar me from entrance. Remember the wedding? Look, knowing that school, the same people who were in that bridal party are putting on the reunion. We literally got kicked out of the reception if you don’t remember. I had to pay fifty credits for dry cleaning for some woman’s coat because it had cum on it.”

“We have a joint bank account,” Obi-Wan waves this away. “At most it was 25/25.”

“Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan frowns, and his arms wrap tighter around Leia, who coos and pats at his bearded cheek. “I…” he trails off. His scent reaches out to Anakin’s, whose own tangles with his immediately. “I keep thinking about what your old friend said. Padmé. She said, when you were dancing, that she knew that you’d never be married to an asshole like me. And I just…can’t forget that. You are. And we’re so happy. I love you. I want another chance to show it. That I love you.”

Anakin hesitates. Anakin loves to know that Obi-Wan loves him. Anakin takes so much pride and joy in the fact that Obi-Wan loves him, as if he hasn’t been loving him since he was seven years old.

“Will you be nicer this time?” His alpha asks. He puts his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist and pulls him tight against him, and Obi-Wan knows all over again that he could be the biggest dick in the world and Anakin would still love him.

“Absolutely,” Obi-Wan lies, stretching up to kiss the corner of his alpha’s mouth. “Shall I RSVP then?”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”

You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.

“Really, Joon? Sports?”

Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.

“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”

You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.

“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.

“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.

“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.

“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”

“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.

“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.

“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”

You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.

“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”

You tilt your head.

“He’s protesting too much,” you say.

“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”

“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”

“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.

“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”

“You’re not going to actually believe—”

“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.

Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.

“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.

Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.

“That changed your mind?”

“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.

“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”

Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.

Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.

And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.

You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.

It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.

“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”

“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.

That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.

“Um. Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”

You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.

“That’s… a good point, actually.”

“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)

“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”

He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.

“Yeah, I do— I do that.”

Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.

Jungkook is shy.

“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.

“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.

“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.

“I think it works.”

“You think what works?”

Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.

You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.

“He says I hate basketball.”

“But that would imply you care about basketball.”

“Exactly.”

“And you don’t.”

“I know.”

“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”

Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.

That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.

“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”

Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.

“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.

There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.

“I’m a literature major, by the way.”

“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.

“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.

“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.

You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.

You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.

You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.

You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.

You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.

You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.

So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.

Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.

“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”

You blink at him.

“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”

“Does it matter?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.

“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”

“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”

“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.

“I really don’t,” you shrug.

He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.

Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.

“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”

“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”

He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.

“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

Jungkook gives you an anxious look.

“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”

He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.

“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.

The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.

“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.

You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.

“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”

“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”

“Then I’m probably going.”

Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.

“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”

For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.

“That’s nice,” he comments.

“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.

“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”

Great. People.

“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.

It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.

“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”

“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”

He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.

But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.

Jungkook isn’t going to change that.

You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.

You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.

Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.

You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.

“(Y/N)!”

You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.

Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.

He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.

“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”

He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.

“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”

“Do you have a closet somewhere?”

Jungkook blinks.

“A closet?”

“Yeah.”

There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.

“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”

“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”

He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.

And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.

Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”

He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”

Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.

“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”

You frown.

“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.

“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”

You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to.

Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.

“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.

“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”

It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.

“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”

“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”

“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”

You think they will. You hope they will. They should.

“You would understand.”

It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.

Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.

You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.

“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”

You hear what sounds like a choked sob.

“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.

“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”

He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.

Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.

“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.

“I usually mean what I say.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.

He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.

So you stay.

“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ‘did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.

“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.

“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.

That leaves only you.

“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.

“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.

“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”

That’s a lie.

“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”

Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.

“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.

That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.

“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”

“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”

“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”

You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.

“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”

“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.

“No you don’t, you—”

“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”

Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.

“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.

“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”

Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.

But they’ve noticed.

Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.

The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.

You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.

“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”

It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.

“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.

“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.

It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.

But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.

“My ex said I worked too much.”

He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.

You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.

“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”

“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”

“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”

That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.

“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.

“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.

“That’s what Taehyung said.”

“Taehyung’s right.”

Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.

You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.

Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”

Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.

“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.

You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”

“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.

“No, but—”

“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”

That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.

“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”

“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”

“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”

Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.

“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.

“Fine.”

He grins widely.

“I just beat you at maths.”

“You didn’t beat me, I—”

“I just beat you at maths!”

You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.

Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.

That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.

Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.

As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.

“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.

You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.

“A stop?” you repeat.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”

You sigh. But you follow.

As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.

By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.

“C’mon,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me show you, okay?”

You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.

You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.

You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.

“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.

You would rather die.

But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.

“You can get closer than that,” he says.

You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.

“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”

“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”

He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.

You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.

“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”

He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.

Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.

“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Of course, you take pity on him.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.

Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.

You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.

In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.

You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.

The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.

Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.

Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.

Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.

After that, he’s unstoppable.

He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.

The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.

Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.

“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.

You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.

“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.

Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.

And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.

You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—

Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.

“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”

It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.

Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.

“Thanks,” he still says.

His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.

Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.

You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I—”

“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”

This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.

“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”

“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”

This is terrible.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.

You hate this.

It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.

You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.

Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.

The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.

You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.

But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.

The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.

And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.

You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.

But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.

So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.

You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.

Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.

You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.

God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.

With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.

You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.

You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—

Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.

It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.

The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.

“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.

“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.

It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.

“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”

“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”

“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.

“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”

People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.

“It’s midnight,” you say.

“Five!”

You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.

“Four!”

Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.

“Three!”

It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.

“Two!”

Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“One!”

You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.

“Happy new year!”

You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!

The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.

“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.

Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.

You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.

Fuck that.

It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.

You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.

You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.

You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.

You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.

“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”

You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.

“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”

“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.

“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.

“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.

You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.

“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.

“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”

“No,” Taehyung says.

You blink.

“No?”

“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”

You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.

“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”

“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”

You’re not sure why, but fine.

“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?

Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.

“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.

When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.

“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”

He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?

“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.

So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.

Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.

God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?

At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.

Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.

But only a little.

You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.

And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.

“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”

You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.

“Do you mind if I sit here?“

“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—

“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”

You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.

“Of course you can,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.

You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.

It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.

And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.

God. You can be so stupid some times.

Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.

He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.

“You have to come to the next game.”

“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”

“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”

“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”

“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”

“Jungkook?”

“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”

“Because we might lose.”

“And I’m supposed to change that how?”

“You owe me, remember?”

“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”

“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”

“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”

“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”

“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“Taehyung…”

“Just be there!”

“I will.”

“You better!”

“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”

You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.

You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.

��I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”

But he is.

“You owe me, (Y/N)!”

“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”

“Trust me on that one, okay?”

You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.

“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”

He has the audacity to shrug at that.

“It won’t go bad.”

You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.

The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.

“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.

“It’s fine, I just—”

“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.

Ah. Fuck it.

Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.

It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.

“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.

You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.

“I promise.”

He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.

You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.

“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—

“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.

—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.

“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”

“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”

You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?

“Did you just—”

“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”

And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.

But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.

After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.

You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.

You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.

“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.

“Hey,” you reply.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.

“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—”

“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.

Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.

“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”

“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”

Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.

“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.

You nod.

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.

“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”

Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.

“You can go without me!”

There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.

“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.

“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”

“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”

You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.

“Walk me home?” you ask.

Jungkook finally stops his rambling.

“Are you sure?”

Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.

“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”

And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.

“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”

“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.

He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.

“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”

You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”

It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.

“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”

He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.

He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.

“I should go,” he says.

You hum.

“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”

But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.

“You’re so mean,” he repeats.

This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.

You just don’t think he wants it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.

When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.

“I— Yeah. You should go.”

“You can come up if you want to, you know?”

He hesitates, rolls his lips together.

“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.

You already can’t wait for the next day.

People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.

They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.

What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.

You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.

Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.

You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.

You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.

The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.

“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”

He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.

But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.

“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.

It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.

What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.

For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.

No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.

You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”

“Kind of, but—”

“Let’s find you a quieter place.”

He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”

You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”

You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.

“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

You are.

“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”

You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.

“You really didn’t notice?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”

“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”

“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

That makes you chuckle.

“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”

Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.

“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.

“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”

“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”

The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.

So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.

“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.

“For what?” he asks, breathless.

“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”

“Of course. Any time.”

He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.

“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”

You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.

“You probably should stop, in that case.”

“People are… not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”

He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.

“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”

“Any time.”

The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.

But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.

“And I love you,” you whisper back.

Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.

[tinyyoungblood]

how ab a headcanon where the avengers all take a trip either to disney world or on a disney cruise? i’m a whore for the idea of everyone, especially peter and y/n, just acting like kids again

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

a/n: i like this prompt so much!! i’ve never been to disneyland, but i hope this is accurate enough lol. i also turned this into a vlog bc someone had to record this mess and since it can’t be me, i’m giving filming privileges to bruce

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the avengers in disneyland

everyone is very very excited and the days before they leave pass in a flurry of excitement, but peter has never been to disneyland, so he’s THRILLED beyond means

peter’s jumping up and down while everyone’s loading the van and he keeps asking them if they’re ready for this “life-changing field trip?????”

sam is genuinely afraid that if peter jumps any higher he will bounce off earth, so he grabs peter by the middle and carries him horizontally into the car

steve gave a whole lecture on not getting lost the day before and since tony couldn’t resist it, he is dressed head to toe in neon yellow and grinning cockily

nat steps into the van, sees him, and turns around with her hand over her eyes like she’s been blinded

bruce brings his video camera with him and records everything. first thing they do is hit up a gift shop and it is better than any oscar nominated movie

everything they pick up is subjected to a thorough label reading and some kind of commentary

“steve, show them what you’re getting!!” “slippers” “what kind of slippers” “uh...soft”

thor on the other hand takes it very serious and his commentary ends up being very ~shakespearean~

peter and y/n get matching friendship bracelets for everyone

loki: “i’m not wearing that”

y/n: “that’s alright-“

loki: “no tie it on for me”

bucky wouldn’t have come along if it weren’t for steve and sam, but now he’s taking it upon himself to make sure that everyone stays in good condition so they don’t miss out on training

the whole team gets hourly text messages from him in the group chat

bucky: “There’s a water leak in Mickey’s Toontwon. If any of you slip and hurt yourselves I will kill you.”

y/n: “love you too buck”

(they know it’s his way to express his love for them so every message almost makes them tear up)

loki really wants to go on splash mountain but since he doesn’t want to get his clothes wet, he asks the guards how ~splashy~ splash mountain gets

they don’t take him seriously and it infuriates loki because it’s a perfectly reasonable question but it quickly turns into a passionate argument that holds up the entire line

“I DEMAND TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE RISK OF GETTING WET IS, YOU INCOMPETENT FOO—”

*cue y/n and nat dragging him away while bruce runs after them to zoom in on loki’s pouty glare*

they get him a green rain poncho with black polka dots from one of the gift shops, and he’s still glowering but he puts it on without protest before each ride that involves water

normally the avengers would easily get recognised but since everyone is walking around in costumes, people approach them for several other reasons

thor is just peacefully standing in life, staring at the incredicoaster like it’s the love of his life, when a little kid tugs at his cape

“excuse me sir, why are you so tall?” “good question, why are you so short?” “hmm” “hmm”

they find a micky mouse whac-a-mole and everyone is having Fun but something possesses tony and clint and they are really going for it

tony is a 5 foot tall ball of stress and competitiveness and he is yielding that plastic hammer like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do

clint on the other hand is starting to feel the numbness in his arms

y/n, with sarcasm: “you can do it, clint!”

clint, with spite: “i cannot do it, thanks”

*y/n stares into the camera*

they also make up a rule that if you are in a 5 meters radius of one of the theme park characters, you HAVE to snap a picture with them

steve, who gets constantly shoved nudged by bucky into some character’s path, ends up taking a picture with almost every single disneyland character

at some point, he’s just downright sick of it and there’s a 7 min video of steve zooming across the lot while goofy and woody run after him with wide open arms

bucky is doubled over with laughter in the background while sam is standing beside him and wiping away his own tears

the avengers also buy all the pictures that are taken of them on the rides and even stop at some photo booths so they can send them to wanda and vision who are both vacationing on hawai’i <3

thor, peter, and y/n run themselves ragged and their legs almost give out but they will not stop until they have been on every ride that disneyland has to offer

the others think it’s obnoxious but they follow and join them without hesitation

tony is secretly trembling with fear. doing loops in the air at the speed of light is fine and so is battling aliens, but getting on a rollercoaster ride is just heart-stopping horrifying

it’s not that he doesn’t like rollercoasters, (that man has no self-preservation skills, anything that resembles plummeting to death will be gazed at with big heart eyes) but he just doesn’t trust them

if he didn’t build it or prove it, he doesn’t trust it. period. but the avengers are just so excited and happy that he can’t find it in him to sit out

that quickly results in thor and tony re-enacting very impressive Shouting Contests on each ride without fail

tony is screaming and clinging onto whoever is sitting next to him for dear life because he’s Petrified™️

and thor is screaming, because he’s having The Time Of His Life

he’s feeling the wind in his hair, his heart in his throat, and if he’s not shredding his vocal chords and flinging his limbs around, what’s the point of it all

after 20 different rides, tony is sick of pretending and just trudges through disneyland, the happiest place of earth, like it’s the sole cause of all suffering in the world

nat rejoins the group after she mysteriously disappeared for a moment and her hair is tossed, there’s ash on her face, and half of her clothes are wet

bruce, startled: “where have you been??”

nat, beaming: “there was a ride that spat fire from all sides and people jumped out of nowhere to scare you while the whole place was filled with hot water!!!”

bruce, concerned, zooms in on nat’s excited face

“nat i think you went to hell”

sam is big on merry-go-rounds so he drags everyone with him and while some one them first don’t seem to enjoy it, they change their mind once they see bucky’s little smile

(they go on at least ten more rounds until it starts to get dizzy)

a little girl trips over her princess gown and falls close to where steve is waiting in line, and steve immediately abandons his spot to rush over

bruce zooms in on them bc steve has always been kinda awkward with kids, but here he is, crouching down and comforting that little girl, and it’s so unashamedly soft and sweet

they can’t hear what steve is saying but she’s BEAMING now and even giving him a wobbly courtesy while he claps proudly

bruce turns the camera around and both he and clint are lowkey in TEARS like “why are we crying?? we didn’t even fall down” “i KNOW!!”

nat gets a hold of the camera and she’s on a mission to get the most embarrassing greatest footage possible

“bucky, go stand next to moana” “why?” “it’s moana go stand over there” “but i don’t know-“ “bucky.” *cue bucky, awkwardly standing next to moana while nat grins broadly*

when he’s back with the team, sam just stares at him blank-faced, clearly waiting for bucky to ask why he’s looking at him

eventually bucky caves in with a long sigh

“what” “i can’t believe you don’t know who moana of montunui is. she restored BALANCE to the WORLD. put some RESPECT ON HER NAME”

no one knows why but there’s footage of y/n, thor, tony, and loki strutting up and down in the middle of the lane in minnie mouse plush shoes like it’s a catwalk

sam, bucky, and nat are holding up their fingers to score them while steve is staring at them like he’s analysing their fighting stances

bruce, clint, and peter are standing on the sidelines and cheering them on as they should be

they end their day by digging into an unholy amount of fries that even steve can’t resist because they’ve been walking the whole day

a questionable amount of cotton candy also end ups in their possession and the footage of that is just mostly everyone trying out each other’s cones while the camera is passed between them

soon after, the avengers are back in their van to drive home and bruce zooms in on the row of seats where y/n has her head on peter’s shoulder while the others are also half-lounging on each other, and everyone is asleep <3

* * *

guess what i’m about to say?

stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist