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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

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if I can never give you peace — one || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 6k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Minor Character Death, Guns, kind of dark in general

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The first gunshot takes everyone by surprise. Unsure glances are exchanged all around, “did you guys hear that”, and disbelief is clear as day on people’s faces. There’s no way this would happen here, right? People are mostly aware of the fact that they’re technically working for a mafia leader, but this is the legal side of the business, and this building is in the middle of the town’s business centre. This cannot be happening.

You stay perfectly still, immobile where you were standing. Out of all the people here, you’re the one who is the most involved in the questionable parts of the family’s activities. In fact, you were just about to go up to Mr. X’s floor to discuss said questionable things — in this case, the smuggling of a large cargo of weapons.

The gunshot is still ringing in your ears when it is followed by another one, and then possibly more, but you can’t hear them because chaos erupts all around you.

People get up, start running around, some towards the elevators, some towards the stairs. Your brain tells you those choices are probably bad. If those gunshots are for the Family — and who are you kidding, they are — then whoever is firing them is coming up.

“Don’t use the stairs,” you order, and some people stop to look at you, unsure of what to do. They trust your decisions, to a degree, but you doubt it’s enough in this situation. “They’re probably coming,” you explain, even if three of the employees have already slipped through the door and left, “and I don’t think you should be in front of the elevator when the door opens.”

Blood drains from people’s faces. Downstairs, there are more shots fired. A woman starts to cry. Your brain is going in overdrive, processing everything, trying to come up with the best decision, and yet it doesn’t feel like anything is actually registering.

“You should barricade yourself in a room,” you say. Your voice is eerily calm, even to your ears, and it feels strange to hear it. It’s like a curtain has fallen between you and the world around you. You understand that this situation is terrifying, that you should have a reaction that is not apathy. You just don’t. “I don’t think you’re the main targets here. I’ll be going up to see Mr. X.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” a man shouts. “You just want to leave us here to be canon fodder! You—”

He’s shut up by your bodyguard pulling out a gun of his own.

“I suggest you do what she’s saying,” he orders, voice deep and gravelly.

On top of being armed, Hector is a bear hybrid you hired about a year ago. He’s tall and large, very impressive physically, which is generally enough to discourage any kind of altercation. He’s also a calm and gentle person most of the time. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him hold the gun he carries.

“You should stay here with them,” you tell him. He send you a disconcerted look.

“Are you sure? Even if they’re not the target, you might be.”

The statement shouldn’t take you by surprise. It’s something you should have considered immediately, and it takes you a second to figure out why you haven’t. If you are a target, that means the attacker knows about the workings of the organization. That would mean that they’ve been planning this for a while, and that they’ve simply gone completely under your radar all this time. Which is a lot more worrying to you than anything else.

“Stay,” you insist. When this is over, it will be better if people here think you had their best interest at heart.

If you make it out, that is.

Hector ushers people inside a conference room, and you walk towards the stairs. From there, you hear gunshots better than you did earlier, and you wince at the sound. You’re not used to it. It’s strange, since you’ve been working for the Family for years now, but you’ve very rarely heard people firing guns. You’ve never even had a gun pulled on you. You’d like to think it’s because you’re too careful, or too smart to find yourself in those situations, but the truth is you’ve just never been in situations where that sort of things would happen.

Sure, someone could send a killer for you — they have, actually — and then the carefully crafted net of precautions you’ve woven around yourself would — did — stop them, but you don’t participate in drug deals and you’re rarely out in the street, and that’s where those things happen most of the time.

You glance down. You’re on the fifteenth floor, so you doubt the employees who ignored your warning have made it out yet. You doubt they will, to be honest.

Glancing up, you wonder if you’ll make it to the twentieth before someone catches up with you and, since it’s a useless thing to think about, you begin your ascension. You’re not the most in shape, most of your daily exercise consisting in walking from places to places. That is a lot of walking, and you can do it without getting breathless, but you never take the stairs. Soon, you’re panting, and you’re about to take a break after three floors when you hear new gunshots that make you freeze.

These were in the stairwell. They echo deafeningly, and, for the first time since this all started, fear actually grips you. You swallow, heart beating loudly, and you keep going. You hear some screams, down there, and the horrible sound of flesh — bodies — hitting the floor, and then nothing. You’re sure someone must be climbing up those stairs, but you can’t hear them at all, and that terrifies you. You have no idea how fast they are, how soon they’ll catch up with you, how—

You slam open the door to the last floor. The time is not to discretion, and anyway, whoever is down there is probably coming for the twentieth floor.

The second you walk out, three guns are pointed towards you, and someone is screaming at you to stay where you are. You obey, until Mr. X’s bodyguards identify you. You had told him that hiring hybrids would be a good idea, since they rely more on their heightened senses and tend to have better reflexes, but you’d been ignored, so you had just shrugged it off and followed your own advice.

“Mr. X is inside,” one of the men tells you, pointing at the door, but not moving to take you there. You walk by him, and they all keep their eyes firmly on the stairwell’s door. That makes you assume the elevators don’t work, otherwise they’d have part of their focus on there.

“Mr. X, do we have any idea what— Miss Xanders, I apologize, I hadn’t seen you there.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N),” Anna says. “We really have more important things to concern ourselves with.”

“Do we know who’s attacking us?” you ask, giving your attention back to Mr. Xanders.

Mr. Xanders is an old man, you feel that he was already an old man when you’d joined. He had Anna quite late, when he was nearing his fifties, and he recently celebrated his seventieth birthday. You would know, you organized the party.

He’s looked old for as long as you’ve worked for him, using a walking stick, small eyes hidden behind large glasses, skin marked with wrinkles. But there was always something sharp and smart, cunning, in his eyes. Despite everything, he felt dangerous, and you had never doubted that he was not a man to underestimate.

Right now, though, he looks tired. Exhausted. He’s staring at his laptop screen and shaking his head, utterly confused.

“I can’t recognize anyone,” he says, and your heart misses a beat. Not good, that’s not good at all. “Can you?”

You walk around the desk quickly, examining the view you get from various cameras placed all around the building, and your hands involuntarily clench into fists as you see how dire everything is. On several different floors, men with machine guns are walking around, and you know for a fact they’re not working for you. You can’t see what’s happened to your people in the low-resolution, but you can guess, and your stomach tightens at the thought.

“How is that possible?” you whisper. “How has no one intervened yet?”

You know the police isn’t too keen on coming here, but this is genuinely insane. The only explanation you can think of is that they’ve been paid-off, and again, you don’t know how you wouldn’t have heard about that.

“That’s not what I asked you,” Mr. X says harshly, and you wince, focusing again on the men on the screen. You scan the men again, quickly. Some are wearing masks, but a lot of them are brazenly showing their faces, and that is one more thing that is not good. They should want to make sure no one would recognize them. If they’re confident enough to do that…

“I don’t know them,” you whisper. Some look vaguely familiar, but you just can’t place it, so you’re sure they aren’t big names. You have definitely not been on the look-out for them.

“Dad, we should really go up to the helicopter,” Anna says urgently.

Mr. Xanders hesitates, then nods, getting up in a movement that is slow and clearly painful. You help him out without thinking much about it, holding his arm and giving him his walking stick.

“How will you do that? The elevators aren’t working and the stairs don’t go to the roof.”

“We’ll reactivate the elevators,” Anna explains with a shrug, and you stare at her in disbelief.

“That will mean those people will be able to move freely in the building. I don’t think—”

“They are already moving freely,” Mr. Xanders barks.

“Still—”

Then, a lot of things happen at the same time. You were standing in front of the elevator, Anna calling it with a special key, the bodyguards surrounding you, eyes and weapons still directed at the stairwell door.

The elevator opens with a ding. And the door slams open.

There are gunshots everywhere. You dive to the ground, or maybe you’re pushed down, you’re not too sure. You look up to see two men falling down around you, the third guard ushering Anna and her father in. You try to push yourself to your feet, but the door is already closing. You call out, you can’t hear your own voice, ears ringing from all the noise.

You meet Anna’s eyes, filled with indifference and a complete lack of remorse, and then the door is closed, and you know they’re gone.

And someone, someone who wanted them dead and just killed two men, is in this room with you.

Slowly, oh so slowly, you turn around. As you do, you feel your lower lip starting to tremble, and you sink your teeth into the flesh to stop it. You push yourself on your elbows, and your eyes fall on a man with bleached blonde hair pushed back with a bandana, a round face that makes him look younger than you suspect he is, and a mocking smirk. Once more, you’re struck by the fact that you don’t know him. He’s alone and he took out two trained guards, not to mention the people he must have killed to get there, and you have no clue who he is.

His eyes confuse you, at first, and then you realize it’s their color that is throwing you off, an unnatural yellow, and the slit of his pupils. He’s a hybrid, you understand, and you curse yourself for how slow your brain is at the moment. You don’t have time to wonder if he’s part cat or part snake before he takes a step towards you. Fear grips you, and you consider crawling back, but you force yourself to stay unmoving. You don’t let emotions control you. That’s not who you are.

Instead, you stare at him straight in the eyes, even as you feel tears well up in yours. You’ve never been afraid of death, and yet it seems that you can’t stop your body’s reaction as you understand that this is it. This is how you die, where you die, this is who kills you.

The man crouches down in front of you, and lifts his gun to press the barrel against your forehead. He looks at you like an animal playing with its food. The situation seems to be amusing to him, and you think he is waiting for you to beg. You have no intention of doing that.

“Just make it quick,” you say.

You don’t recognize your own voice. The man’s smile widens, revealing pearly white teeth and a set of fangs. Tears start to roll down your cheeks, and you’re completely unable to stop them. You don’t feel sad or afraid, you just feel empty, but the tears keep falling. Still, you hold the man’s gaze. You won’t beg for your life.

“What if I let you go?” he drawls, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen at the possibility. Then, he laughs, pleased by your reaction, and you’re horrified to find out that this had an effect on you. The treacherous hope you’d just felt makes the reality of your imminent death crushing. A sob escapes you before you can get yourself under control again.

“Please,” you whisper. “Just get it over with.”

A pout forms on his face, and he shrugs. Then, to your surprise, he removes the gun from your forehead. The next thing you feel is the grip of the weapon, violently connecting with your temple, and then you don’t feel anything at all, not even the floor when your head hits it in your fall.

You wake up to the sound of soft, muffled sobs. It takes you a few seconds to piece things together, your head throbbing painfully and your mind in shambles. You lift your head with a groan, trying to take in your surroundings. Your thoughts are slow and you hate it. It makes you feel so vulnerable and defenseless.

Of course, that gets worse when you realize your hands are tied behind your back. That sends a jolt of adrenaline through your body, and you manage to look around you. It seems like you are in some warehouse, which, in your experience, is not a good thing. That’s where executions happen. They’re places that are accident prone, so the presence of blood could be explained easily, and they aren’t inspected that often anyway.

There's another sob beside you, and when you turn to look where it’s coming from, you find Anna, not just tied up but gagged, tears streaming down her cheeks. You assume that means her and her father were caught before they made it to the helicopter. On the other side of her is Mr. X, who seems to be in the same situation as her.

I’m here to be killed, you think. You can’t see another explanation. Mr. X and Anna are definitely here for that reason, so if you’re there with them— it means you’re here to die. You hope it will be quick, like you had asked that man, but you doubt it. If they took you here, it’s probably because they intend to make an example out of you. Intellectually, you don’t blame them. If this is a takeover of the family, they’ll probably need all the intimidation power they can get to keep the situation under control. It’s a ballsy move, certainly, and you would be at least a little impressed if you weren’t thinking about the creative and painful ways they can choose to get rid of you.

“Is she awake?” a voice asks. You turn your head quickly, too quickly, and another groan escapes you as your head painfully reminds you of the blow you just took.

You meet the mocking eyes of the man who knocked you out, before he looks away from you, at a large man you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“He wants to see her.”

The man nods, and then he’s on you in just a few steps, roughly forcing you up, his grip tight around your arm. You groan again as he drags you through the warehouse, to a large black car. You have just the time to think that someone must not want to be seen, if they’re in that, before you’re pushed into it. You lose your balance and land on your knees, and that’s when legs appear in your field of vision. They’re clad in black suit trousers.

You slowly look up. First, you discover elbows resting on spread knees, tattooed hands joined between them. Then there’s an elegant white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, muscular shoulders, a strong jaw, an amused, mocking smile and—

Your mouth drops open. Today is definitely proving to be a trying day for your reputation of never expressing your emotions, no matter the situation.

“Jungkook?” you ask, in disbelief.

Because it’s him. There’s something harsher in his eyes, his hair is longer, dark locks falling down to his jaw, and he’s lost any remaining softness he still had two years ago, when you last saw him, but it’s definitely him. He looks confident, and he’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, clearly knowing that he’s in full control of the situation.

“Hey,” he says. “Wanna take a seat?”

He watches you struggle to get to your feet, something that turns out not to be that easy when your hands are tied behind your back, and doesn’t make a movement to help you. When you manage to sit opposite him, you’re still watching him like you’ve seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?”

You know you should be able to piece things together to get an answer now. The deferential tone the man had when he talked about him earlier, everything that happened since these first gunshots… In another situation, it would be obvious to you. But because it’s Jungkook, you can’t bring yourself to come to the natural conclusion.

Jungkook had an out. He could have left this world behind altogether. So why wouldn’t he?

“Come on, you’re supposed to be smart,” he says, mocking, and his smile is harsh and condescending. “I’m taking over for the Xanders family. I think that should have been pretty clear.”

There’s a moment of silence, a long moment, as he waits for it to sink in. He’s in no hurry.

“But why?”

He shrugs, lean back against the leather seat.

“Because I can. Don’t you wanna why you’re here?”

That… would be a good idea, actually, and you’re bothered by how long it took you to think about it. You’re also bothered by how you lost track of that the second you saw Jungkook. You blame it on the surprise and on the fact that you’ve known him since before you became as— you’d like to say ‘efficient’, but the right word is probably ‘emotionless’. Empty.

“Why am I here?” you ask, frowning. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it outside. It could be that he just wants to gloat, but something tell you he has—

“I have an offer for you,” he says, and then he grins and reveals his teeth. “It’s my way of saying thanks for how generous you were when you gave me five minutes to save my life.”

His tone is so abrasive it almost makes you wince, but you’re already falling back into your normal self. ‘Offer’ is a good thing, it means negotiation, conversation, things you can do, things you’re good at, things you can focus on to block out everything else, like the pain in your head or the guilt that settles in when he describes your actions.

“What offer?”

The grin disappears. He doesn’t seem happy he didn’t get a reaction from you.

“Work for me.”

That… makes sense, you suppose.

“I’m taking over for Mr. X. You know everything around here, and some people say you’re the best there is at what you do.” Then he shrugs, and casually pulls out a gun that you think was tucked in his back pocket. “That, or join him out there. I’m not sure you’ll like the outcome for that though.”

Despite the obvious threat, you can’t help but seriously consider the offer. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that it’s not a good one. Even if he manages to replace Mr. X, you doubt all the people who work for him will obey him. Stabilizing the whole thing will be a titanic task, but that’s not even what worries you — you can appreciate a challenge. No, the issue is that if you switch your allegiance, people will remember it. You will make a lot of enemies, and that doesn’t even include the people who simply will not trust you because you used to work for someone else. It’s a poisoned gift, really, and you’re sure Jungkook knows it.

“How do you plan on making the families follow suit?” you ask with a frown.

He rolls his eyes.

“Do people ever tell you how boring you are?”

They do, actually.

“This is not the only coup happening today. Some people who have already agreed to work for me will get in power. And the others… will take some convincing, but I’m sure they’ll come around.” He gives you a joyless, aggressive smile.

You’re still focused on his first words. You were already so puzzled that you wouldn’t have heard about what’s going on today — about how Jungkook is back in town, about how he’s been planning an entire takeover — but this is on a whole other level.

“How did you do that?” you ask, and when he lifts an eyebrow, you know you didn’t manage to keep your surprise out of your voice.

“Which part?”

“How did I not hear about that? I mean, Mr. X could sneeze and I would have known about it. People couldn’t open speakeasies without getting approved by me first — and they tried more than once.”

Jungkook looks at you, and disbelief passes on his face. This is what gets you? You couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about anything earlier, now you seem barely affected by the fact that he was threatening to kill you, but that caught your interest. Not just that, but you almost look impressed.

Okay, maybe you’re not as boring as he’d said, but you sure are fucking weird.

“We can smell you,” he says, tapping his nose. “It’s not too hard to figure out who you’re in contact with. Just had to make sure to avoid them. There were a few close calls, but we took care of it.” Then he shrugs. “It wasn’t as hard as you think it was. You’re not as cautious around hybrids.”

You stare at him for a while. He starts picking at his suit, looking annoyed by the turn the situation has taken, and you think about what he said. He’s right, you realize. You fucked up here — badly. You should have taken hybrids’ senses into consideration. You’d like to tell yourself that you didn’t think about it because there were no hybrids in high places, in the organization, but that’s not a good excuse. You file the information in your brain. You’ll do better.

“I’ll do it,” you say, and Jungkook glances at you.

“What changed your mind?”

“I’m— curious, I suppose. I’d like to see where this thing is going.”

Jungkook considers taking back his offer. He didn’t know what he thought would happen, but he expected it to be more interesting than this. Instead, you sat there, face as stiff as ever, and now you’re talking about being curious, which sounds wildly out of character, if you ask him. Yoongi’s told him you cried when you thought he was about to kill him, but he doubts it right now. It doesn’t look like anything can get through that thick shell of yours — and even if it did, he doesn’t think there would be a lot underneath it.

But the thing is, he was telling the truth earlier, when he said you were rumored to be the best there was at your job, and Jungkook is nothing if not a perfectionist. He likes to surround himself with the best. Which, unfortunately, means you.

“Suga!” he shouts, opening the door.

The man with the slit pupils jumps in easily, and looks at you with a disapproving twist of his lips.

“I’m not killing her, am I?”

He sounds disappointed.

Jungkook shakes his head in response.

“That’s Suga,” he tells you, pointing at the man. “He’ll explain how we work to you.”

You nod.

“I think he should kill you,” Suga informs you off-handedly, dropping on the seat next to you. “I think you’ll betray us.”

“If she does, I’ll kill her, if she fucks up her job, I’ll kill her, ” Jungkook says, and you have no doubt he means it. “Consider this your five minutes. Let them go, and you won’t have another shot.”

“That’s fine by me,” you say evenly. Betrayal has never been an option for you. You had no loyalty towards Mr. X, but the threat over your family was too big to risk it. And now, with Jungkook— you guess you’ll have to wait and see. You don’t think you’ll betray him, but if things turn sour… You suppose you’re not above it.

Maybe it should worry you, how little you value your own life, but you brush it off quickly. Thinking about it too much could compromise the way you do your job, and you can’t have that.

“So,” Jungkook says, leaning back, eyes watching you carefully. “What do you suggest we do with the Xanders?”

Suga opens his mouth, but Jungkook lifts a hand, signaling that he wants your answer. You wonder if this is some kind of test.

“Killing them would be the best decision,” you say, somewhat reluctantly. You know your decisions in the past, your suggestions, have lead to the death of people, but you’ve rarely been so direct about it. Then again, death is part of the game, when you work this kind of job. Mr. Xanders is about as close to an actual monster as it gets. And Anna… Well, maybe Anna isn’t. You don’t like her, and you absolutely believe that she was happy to enjoy everything that came with what her father did, but she’s not him. Which is a low bar to clear.

“She’s not wrong,” Suga echoes, sounding annoyed.

“Letting them live would be seen as a proof of weakness and they would try to come back. It’s just— a bad idea.”

You can see Jungkook’s jaw tensing. Next to you, Suga starts to make his leg shake. You suppose he has the same kind of bad feeling you do.

“What if we kill Mr. X but not Anna?” he asks, and Suga groans. Jungkook rolls his eyes and develops. “Yoongi, we’re not taking over the legal part of the business. We can just— leave that to her, and not bother about it.”

“We’ll have to figure out something else to launder money,” you say, because that was the main point of that side of things, legal just in name really. That is not your biggest concern, though. “But if you kill her father and not her—”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Yoongi snaps. “She needs to die.”

He’s right. It’s just the smart thing to do.

“People here aren’t impressed by mercy,” you insist, and that’s when you realize you’ve lost that fight already. Jungkook knows it. There’s no way he doesn’t. He’s made his decision, even if it’s a bad one, and trying to change his mind is useless. So you’re quick to jump to the things that need to be done if he lets Anna live. “You need to get her to sign emancipation papers.”

Jungkook tenses suddenly at the suggestion and a low growl comes from his throat as he bares his teeth at you threateningly. Yoongi barely moves, but you see his hand settling on his hip, near his gun, which you guess serves as a reassuring gesture. The car fills with tension, and you swallow. You feel small and defenseless. It’s not that rare a sentiment, but you suddenly become extremely aware of the fact that you’re alone with them, hands still fucking tied behind your back, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do.

“Anna doesn’t own me,” Jungkook snarls.

“Legally she does,” you explain. You’re choosing your words carefully, making sure not to anger him any more, but you’re still staring right at him. “You may have forged an ID or something, but if she lives and she can prove she hasn’t freed you— the consequences will be bad.”

There is a second that feels like an eternity, Jungkook just staring at you, lips now in a tight line, before he shrugs and you can breathe again.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Yoongi groans and sends you a furious glare that you don’t understand. You agreed with him. What did you do to deserve that?

“I’ll take care of Xanders,” Jungkook adds. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Can someone— Can someone untie me?” you ask as they’re moving towards the door.

Jungkook glances at you.

“We’ll see when we come back.”

A grin flashes on his lips when your lips twist into an offended expression, and then he jumps out of the car, followed by Yoongi, and leaves you alone in there.

Fuck.

What an asshole.

Jungkook walks towards his captives with long, confident strides. Yoongi is right behind him, of course, his shadow, the perfect killer. He may disapprove of Jungkook’s plan, if you can even call it that, and he sure doesn’t like how easily you dropped the topic, but he’s still loyal to him. If he fucks up, he’ll clean up after him.

Jungkook savors the moment when Anna’s eyes fall on him. He can tell she recognizes him immediately by the way they widen and how she tries to speak through her gag. It’s been years since the last time he saw her. Much longer than the last time he saw you, which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He’s thought about this so much. A long time ago, he dreamt of her telling him she wanted him back, but over the years, it mostly turned into him finally taking revenge, and he intends to fully savor it now that it’s happening.

He removes the gag from her mouth, and takes an unhealthy pleasure from the way she sobs out, loud and desperate.

“Jungkook, Jungkook, baby, please, please…”

Jungkook only needs to glance at Yoongi for him to set her free, albeit after an annoyed roll of his eyes. The second he does, Anna falls from the chair, right into his arms. Jungkook knows that she’s only trying to save her life, doubts she’s thought of him for more than a split second since he’s disappeared, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to enjoy it.

“Hey baby,” he grins, and he watches as she winces when she sees his sharp teeth. Right, she didn’t see him after that.

Fuck. It’s been a long, long time. She really didn’t give a fuck about him, huh?

And yet he can’t kill her. And yet he knows her bright, pleading eyes, the light weight of her body, the curve of her neck by heart.

“I’m going to need you to do something for me,” he says, voice deep and eyes boring into hers.

She blinks.

“And if I do you won’t— you won’t kill me?”

Jungkook’s opinion of Anna is far less charitable than yours. He thinks she’s an opportunist, will do anything to preserve herself and, sure, she’s not personally involved in her father’s business, but she wouldn’t bat an eye if she was. She likes to play the innocent girl who’s horrified by what’s going on with her family, but she just isn’t. As simple as that.

“Nah. I won’t.”

It doesn’t take long before Anna is kneeling on the floor, writing down what Yoongi is dictating to her, reading from his phone. Jungkook could do it, knows the text by heart, learned it a long time ago when he still hoped for it, but he just stays there immobile instead, watching her at his mercy.

It’s not as nice as he’d imagined.

Finally, she hands him the piece of paper with trembling hands, a small smile forming on her lips as she thinks that her nightmare is over.

Jungkook takes it, reads it over, and nods. Then he pulls his gun out, and Anna’s smile vanishes. Jungkook thrives on her reaction, on the idea that he has complete power over her in that moment. It feels dark and twisted, but fuck, it also feels good.

“But I—”

He shoots and Anna yelps, protecting her ears in reflex.

It takes her a second to realize he wasn’t aiming at her, and relief washes over her, before she understands what it means. She turns around, slowly. And screams.

A clean shot, Jungkook decides, looking at Mr. X. The man had been glaring at him the entire time, and he doubts he would have groveled like Anna had. Now, his blood is splattered on the floor, head thrown back, mouth open, staring at the ceiling with empty, dead eyes. Jungkook doesn’t care when Anna runs to him, sobbing, calling for him, trying to shake him awake.

“We’re going,” Jungkook announces to Yoongi, who finally seems a little less angry with him.

He doesn’t look back at Anna as he walks away.

You rub your wrists, then your shoulders after Yoongi has cut you free. Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, just sits back in the luxurious car. You thought he would look content, happy with himself. He doesn’t.

When the car stops in front of your building, you’re not sure what to do. Part of you still can’t believe he’s letting you live.

“We’ll come and get you tomorrow to get things started,” Jungkook informs you while staring out the window. “You know, you probably should have moved two years ago,” he adds, and for some reason, that really rubs you the wrong way.

“I changed the locks,” you answer, and he grins.

“You still haven’t figured out how I did it, right?”

You frown. You haven’t.

He looks genuinely pleased by that.

“What should I call you?” you ask. “Do you want to be the new Mr. X?”

He growls at the suggestion, but seriously thinks about your question.

“Call me— Call me Mr. Jeon,” he decides spontaneously, without explaining his decision, and you nod. This should help make things more professional, isn’t if this isn’t actually a professional setting.

“Fine, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’re pleased to find that your voice is back to normal, calm and even, not letting anyone know of whatever you’re feeling.

Except Jungkook and Yoongi can probably hear how fast your heart is still beating, but that’s a problem you’ll have to deal with some other time.

You step out, and linger there a second too long, the door open. Finally, you gather the courage to turn around and look at Jungkook.

“Why are you back?”

You mean a lot by that. In the city, sure, but also in that setting. You’d always thought— you’d always thought Jungkook was better than that. You’d always thought he should get the opportunity to get away and he’d be fine. That’s something you can’t shake away, can’t push under the rug.

He couldn’t escape.

He stares at you blankly.

“Where else am I supposed to go?”

Then he leans in and closes the door, and you’re left alone on the pavement.

Tagging list: @chaiwivluv @mintyrae

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #hybrid jungkook #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #can you tell that jungkook isn't okay?#jungkook isn't okay #hope you'll like it!#candywrites

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neverendingdream111 · 4 years ago

Text

GENSHIN IMPACT AS IDOLS

- one of the groups consists of: Zhongli, Childe, Venti, Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya and Albedo

- Zhongli is the leader and the oldest obvsly and his smooth deep voice is to die for

- He's also the visual along with Albedo (tho everyone here is gorgeous, ngl)

- Childe constantly switches between rap and vocal, but he's mostly recognized for his amazing dancing (he's the main dancer for a reason)

- Venti is the main vocal and possibly writes most of their songs (sometimes Albedo helps him)

- Funnily enough, Venti is often confused for being the maknae while in reality he's the second oldest in the group

- Xiao is the main rapper

- He refuses to sing but would do it if asked (rarely)

- and he's the real maknae - even tho he hates it he can't do anything about it (and everyone, especially Venti and Childe, loves teasing him for it)

- Diluc and Kaeya are the other rappers along with Xiao and they are related in some way tho both refuse to reveal anything to the public (but everyone is convinced they're brothers)

- they don't get along most of the time and argue constantly, but it only amuses the rest of the members and the fans absolutely love their arguments bc it more often than not turns into a rap battle

- and let me tell you, they completely kill it

- then, we have Albedo. He and Zhongli are the most peaceful ones and most likely keep the team together bc if not those idiots would've caused absolute chaos eons ago

- His voice is angelic, everyone adores it

- Childe and Kaeya are the most chaotic duo especially together

- they have the stupidest ideas and like to mess around

- and they are perfectly aware of their god-like looks and also have the audacity to use it "against" their fans (not that anyone complains)

- they are partners in crime when it comes to teasing Diluc

- Kaeya does it on a daily basis and Childe found it funny and decided to join him on causing inconvenience to others, lol

- Xiao, even though he's an idol, hates interacting with humans but makes an exception for fanmeetings, concerts, interviews and such because Zhongli raised him right--

- he has a soft spot for cats and would have one at the dorm if it wasn't for Venti being allergic to them (although he doesn't see any problem with it)

- speaking of the dorm, it's the pure definition of destruction

- Childe and Kaeya being the little shits they are room together and they are that kind of roommates that would blast music on full volume in the middle of the night just because they felt like it (but obvsly they do it to summon a demon in the form of sleep deprived Diluc because they know he's a light sleeper)

- Venti at some point moved in with them bc he felt like it and it's totally not because Xiao kicked him out--

- Zhongli and Diluc share a room because they both know how to appreciate a moment of peace and they just like each other's company; their perfect afternoon on their day off is sitting there with a cup of tea each and exchanging stories they've heard and/or experienced

- Albedo is probably the only person Xiao would room with excluding Zhongli (and maybe Diluc but it's debatable) because he's calm and collected, doesn't talk too much unlike the other three and when he does talk it's nice to listen to him

- also, the sound of sketching calms him down

- Venti somehow lives in all of the rooms in the dorm. First he roomed with Xiao and Albedo, but he got kicked out by the maknae. Then he gravitated towards Zhongli and Diluc but after a few days the redhead got so annoyed with him he ended up with Childe and Kaeya. The three of them share a braincell, that's why they get along so well, but even though he lives with them he sometimes ends up in the other rooms but that's just him

- he likes a change of scenery, ehe

- Zhongli's the dad of the group

- whenever someone has a problem they automatically go to him

- also, even though they are a really chaotic group, they are equally capable of working together (main reason why they are so goddamn awesome on stage)

- Xiao might act like he doesn't care but he does. A lot

- every time one of his hyungs is having a bad day he subtly tries to cheer them up. He feels awkward with words in these moments and physical contact isn't really his forte but instead he does things like buying them their favorite snack, or opting to watch their favorite film with them (even if he absolutely hates it he still would watch it)

- everyone obvsly knows what he's doing and they appreciate it

- Childe and Kaeya actually aren't as easy-going as they like to appear on stage. They are really emotional human beings and are probably most affected by hate comments and such

- Diluc, as much as he despises their attitude and teasing he has to endure bc of them, cares about them a lot and usually he's the one to knock some sense in them when they believe the haters or just have a bad day. He may not like their behavior but he's not heartless and deems them as family (even tho he wouldn't admit it)

- Albedo isn't a lot older than Xiao, maybe something around a few months, so everyone thinks of him like a second maknae and just because he gives off the vibe, y'know

- He loves drawing and sometimes does a sketch of one of the members or recreates a fanart of them he saw on Pinterest (cue to the fans going wild)

- He, alongside with Diluc, often cooks for them. They both are amazing cooks and I refuse to believe otherwise

- Venti has a playlist prepared for every occasion and uses them accordingly

- he also has playlists dedicated to every member of the group and it's his way of cheering them up or being there for them when they are separated

- as for the run episodes, well.... It can be described in one word

- chaos

- they're even capable of riling Zhongli up!

- tho he mostly opts to watch the chaos from the sidelines, snickering under his breath, he ends up in the crossfire from time to time

- contrary to popular belief, the most competitive ones are Diluc and Xiao

- they are so set on winning they sometimes forget that it's all a game

- Childe once got an elbow to the face in one episode but still no one knows who did it (it was Kaeya--)

- Albedo is just... There, tho he does enjoy it. More than he would admit

- Childe and Kaeya are dying of laughter most of the time and do stupid things that probably only they understand which makes the other laugh harder

- and Venti absolutely loves being the host: it gives him a perfect view of his friends who half the time have no idea what the hell is going on and, of course, power

- the fanmeetings are just the other excuse for them to make fun of each other and fool around

- fans don't mind it one bit because it is honestly hilarious to watch the utter chaos unfold

- even when they are signing albums and merch they throw comments here and there to provoke the other

- especially Xiao bc he's a softie when it comes to their fans and as long as the girls don't do anything... Weird, he doesn't mind interacting with them and sometimes finds himself actually enjoying the contact

- while we're on the fanmeetings--

- Zhongli is absolutely wonderful. He's the kind to delicately hold your hand, look into you eyes and smile softly while focusing entirely on you and what you have to say, indulging into conversation as well

- if it wasn't for the staff members reminding him that the time's up, he would spend at least an hour with every fan

- Childe is so excited he grins so much his cheeks hurt, and would look at you like you just made his day. You can be stuttering, super nervous and anxious and he'd just say it's completely fine and that you should take your time, even if the staff says that you should move to the next member

- Venti is the one that talks a lot, but would shut up and listen to you. He especially likes playing with your hands or just some games like rock-paper-scissors

- he also loves it when some fans show him their singing and he encourages them to go on, synchronizing with them and making an amazing duet

- Xiao is, like I've said before, a big softie. He really appreciates the fact that people find their music nice and genuinely like to listen to it. Would probably ask you questions like "what's your favorite song?", "What do you think of this album *gestures to the one he just signed*" etc

- he DID wear cat ears once because a fan gave them to him and they looked kind of cute

- he didn't hear the end of it for two weeks minimum and Childe and Kaeya probably have the pic as their wallpapers

- Diluc is the most... normal one? I mean, he enjoys the meetings a lot, but he doesn't show his excitement as much as the others. Conversations with him are like talking to an old friend that understands you and it's just so... wholesome

- he's honestly surprised when he gets gifts from the fans. He does appreciate it of course, but he just doesn't really understand why you would go as far as to give him something for no particular reason please give him lots of love he needs it-

- Kaeya is the one with the audacity to flirt with you. Loves seeing the blush on your cheeks and just enjoys annoying people. Though he sometimes stops it out of mercy and opts to talk with you like a normal human being--

- most protective of their fans. Sees one in distress or being picked on, immediatly steps in or tells a staff member to handle the situation

- Albedo is somewhere between Zhongli and Diluc's behaviour tbh. He's really sweet, loves talking to the fans and gets super excited whenever one of them shows him a fanart - especially if it's an original idea

- now let's get to the best part

- as lovely and peaceful as they are on a daily basis, they turn into freakin devils on stage

- kind grandpa with a calming voice? Who's that? A goddamn satan entered the chat

- ooooh, the cat lover? Sorry, we only have a mf demon available

- don't even get me started on the Childe-Kaeya-Diluc trio--

- all in all, they may be annoying each other night and day but they still love one another like family and their bond only strengthens when they stand in the spotlight

I had this idea today and, well, it turned out like this, hope you enjoyed! I also may be doing some sort of continuation to this with Xingqiu, Chongyun, Razor and Bennett as a trainee idol group so let me know if you'd like something like this and if you have any ideas for other groups!

02.05.21

~Nana

#genshin impact #genshin impact hcs #zhongli #childe #xiao #venti #diluc #Kaeya #Albedo #genshin impact as idols #idol boygroup

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evanescentreverie · 4 years ago

Text

Rarity (SVT Wonwoo)

The winter breeze whisked past your face, allowing a shiver to run down your spine. The night had always been your friend, seeing that it has always been your favorite part of the day. It allowed you a moment of serenity, as well as the time to think to yourself. The stars were twinkling brightly on the night sky, seeming as if they were talking to you. A smile crept up your face as you allowed yourself to bask in the coldness of the night.

You were just walking back from the convenience store, picking up a few things that were needed for the night. You made sure that you had everything you needed so that you wouldn't have to go back again. While you enjoyed the comfort that the night gives you, it wasn't safe for a girl like you to walk alone. You tugged on your scarf, trying your best to fix it to warm you better.

It wasn't long before you reach the door to your apartment, enjoying the warmth that it gave you after being out for a while. You heard the familiar meowing of your cat, approaching you as if to welcome you back. You gave it a quick stroke on its chin before heading to the kitchen to place the things you've brought. You hummed a song as you did, a smile gracing your lips as you waited for the company you were anticipating.

You couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of him visiting your place, seeing as it had been a while since the two of you had seen each other. You felt your phone vibrate, allowing you to take it from your pocket and open it, showing your wallpaper consisting of him. You smiled before reading the text,

I'm outside.

The smile never left your lips as you head to the door, unlocking it to see him behind it. You grinned as you gestured him to head inside, as to which he did. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind you as you followed him closely to your living room. Seeming to notice that you were behind him, he turned around and opened his arms. gesturing you for a hug. You walked towards him as you wrapped your arms around his torso, Wonwoo following after.

"I missed you." You muttered, the smell of his cologne visiting your senses. You heard him chuckle, "I missed you too."

You slowly removed yourself from his grasp, helping him remove his coat, "Stay there for a bit," You then proceeded to walk towards the kitchen, where the stuff you bought was placed. You looked inside the plastic bag before getting the item you needed. You walked back towards him, a curious look present on his features.

"Here, you must be cold." You removed the hot packs from their packaging, before placing them in his hands. As you did so, you peeked at his expression, seeing a soft smile grace his lips. At this, your heart warmed, happy to see his rare smile. You felt his hands wrap themselves on your torso, moving to pull you closer, before feeling his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Thank you for this, (Y/n)." You felt your heart beat loudly, stomach already releasing its butterflies. Even though it has been a while since the two of you last saw each other, you couldn't deny the fact that the two of you loved each other dearly. You smiled as you buried yourself in his arms, allowing this moment to last for a bit.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You cooked all of this?" He had asked, eyes wide in amazement. You look at him in fake hurt, "Of course! I'm hurt that you'd doubt me. I do know how to cook after all." You gave him a cheeky smile as you placed a piece of meat on top of his rice. He glanced at you before taking it and eating it.

"You know, I should be the one doing these things."

"I know but after all your work, I figured that you should be pampered. I'm really proud of you and your group, you guys were great." You showed him a thumbs up, a grin present on your lips as he stared at you before looking down. You saw how he tried to hide a smile causing you to chuckle as you ate in silence, the serenity between the two of you greatly appreciated after a long day.

As the two of you ate, you couldn't help but stare at him, eyes still not believing that he was in front of you. The last month had been hectic for him, seeing as he had so many scheduled works. Sure, you knew that it was part of his job but it made you feel lonely at times. However, he made sure to check on you from time to time, making sure that you ate well, that you got home safe and there were even times that he would call you. It was the the little things that you appreciated from him.

He never made you felt unloved.

You felt a smile creep up on your lips before taking a bite of your food, happy that the two of you were together.

A few minutes later, the two of you had finished eating. Currently, the two of you were holding a single plate, playfully arguing on who would clean up and do the dishes, "Wonwoo, let me clean up."

"You already did everything else, let me do this at least."

The two of you stared into each other's eyes, trying your best not to smile under his gaze. Alas, it was all for naught. You soon giggled before relenting, Wonwoo soon following with his own chuckle.

"Fine but let's do the dishes together."

With a nod, you watched him clean up, talking as he worked. "So, how was the comeback?"

He shrugged as he washed the dishes, "It was really fun but it was a lot more tiring than the other comebacks we've had." He handed you the plates to dry, peeking at you from the corner of his eyes, "Did you listen to it?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course I did! I really loved listening to it in the mornings. I loved that part where..."

You continued to ramble on about how much you loved the song, occasionally wiping of the dishes and placing them in their respective places. Wonwoo merely listened to your every thought, muttering out a few replies from time to time. You removed the rubber gloves from your hands, Wonwoo soon turning off the water. Noticing you had been talking for so long, you proceeded to stop, glancing at him with a sheepish look.

"I'm rambling again, I'm really sorry."

Wonwoo turned to you, head shaking in disagreement. "It's okay, I don't mind. I really like it when you talk to me about your favorites."

"Are you sure?"

He held your hands before bringing it up to his face and placing a kiss on the back of it. "I promise." You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of it, not used to the sudden affection.

"Wonwoo!" You took your hand from his, fanning your face to try and lessen the heat that it felt. He chuckled at your expression, obviously amused. You walked past him to hide the shyness you felt. You swore that this man was going to be the death of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sound of the keyboard clacking filled up your ears, your back pressed against his chest as you watched him play. The two of you had been in this position for a while, feeling comfortable that he was around you. You could hear his breaths, as well as the silent curses he let out whenever he died.

"Behind you Wonwoo!" You muttered out, warning him about the enemy that he didn't see. You heard him curse as he tried his best to evade the attacks but to no avail, he had already been hit a few times before and was unable to heal in time. You chuckled at his annoyed huff, seeing the familiar 'Better luck next time' show itself on the screen, as well as his ranking. You looked up, your hand finding its way into his head, slowly caressing it teasingly.

"There, There."

He snaked his arms into your torso, head on your shoulder as he tried to calm himself. "So close." You chuckled once more before setting up for a new game, it was your turn to play after all. If you were to be honest, you had invested a lot of your time into this game so you were somewhat familiar with it.

You saw the familiar waiting area, seeing all players hit one another. It was a common occurrence in the game so it was nothing new. "Good luck," You smirked at his sudden whisper, "Don't need it."

The game had started and you immediately landed in your area, running towards the houses to get the equipment you need. You saw how there was another person in your area, shooting them as accurately as you can. You smiled when you had killed them, running towards them to get their loot.

Wonwoo watched you as you played, looking at your surroundings to tell you if there was anyone beside you. After a few minutes of you playing, he realized that you didn't need his help, seeing as you were pretty capable at this game. So, he did the usual, he stared at you. He noticed how your brows furrowed when you were in a particularly hard situation, how your tongue stuck out from time to time when you concentrated. He smiled as he focused on your expression. He didn't even notice that you won until you jumped up from the chair, causing him to get hit harshly by your shoulder.

You, noticing this, immediately held both sides of his face as you inspected it. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

"No sorry is going to fix this." He looked down, causing fear to spread on your stomach at his sudden coldness. 'Oh no.' You looked at him anxiously, wondering if the two of you were going to argue. A few seconds after, he glanced at you, a rare cheeky smile on his lips. You could only pout as you hit him playfully, arms crossing themselves before chuckling as you held his face once more.

You looked at every single part of his face, only to see that he was staring at you lovingly, making you seem like the most important being on the planet. You leaned in as you gave him a small peck on the lips, a smile soon gracing your lips.

"I love you, Wonwoo."

You saw how his expression softened as his eyes closed, slowly leaning towards you. You followed his movements as you met him halfway, feeling his soft lips land on yours. You felt him pull you closer, gesturing you to sit on his lap, as to which you did. You felt his hands snake themselves around your waist as he tried to pull you closer than you were. Your arms now found themselves on his shoulders, your heart beating loudly against your chest. You had missed this, the physical contact between the two of you. You missed how he would fully show you he loved you with his affection and it was enough to make you feel fuzzy and lightheaded.

The lack of air caused the two of you to separate, your eyes staring into his as he looked at you with such love, something that you had only experienced with him. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder, a smile gracing your lips as you heard his whisper.

"I love you more than anything in this world, (Y/n)."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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usergreenpixel · 3 years ago

Text

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 1: La Seine no Hoshi (1975)

1. Introduction

Well, dear reader, here it is. My first ever official review. And, as promised, this is one of the pieces of Frev media that you have likely never heard of before.

So, without further ado, sit down, relax, grab drinks and snacks and allow me to tell you about an anime called “La Seine no Hoshi” (The Star of the Seine).

“La Seine no Hoshi” is a children’s anime series made by Studio Sunrise. It consists of 39 episodes and was originally broadcast in Japan from April 4th to December 26th of 1975.

Unlike its more famous contemporary, a manga called “Rose of Versailles” that had begun being released in 1972 and is considered a classic to this day, “La Seine no Hoshi” has stayed relatively obscure both in the world of anime and among other Frev pop culture.

Personally, the only reason why I found out about its existence was the fact that I actively seek out everything Frev-related and I just happened to stumble upon the title on an anime forum several years ago.

So far, the anime has been dubbed into Italian, French, German and Korean but there is no English or even Spanish dub so, unfortunately, people who do not speak fluent Japanese or any other aforementioned language are out of luck ( if anyone decides to make a fandub of the series, call me). That being said, the series is readily available in dubs and the original version on YouTube, which is where I ended up watching it. The French dub calls the anime “La Tulipe Noire” (The Black Tulip), which could be an homage to the movie with the same name that takes place in the same time period.

Unfortunately, while I do speak Japanese well enough to maintain a basic conversation and interact with people in casual daily situations, I’m far from fluent in the language so the version I watched was the French dub, seeing as I am majoring in French.

So, with all of this info in mind, let’s find out what the story is about and proceed to the actual review.

2. The Summary

(Note: Names of the characters in the French dub and the original version differ so I will use names from the former since that’s what I watched)

The story of “La Seine no Hoshi” revolves around a 15-year old girl called Mathilde Pasquier - a daughter of two Parisian florists who helps her parents run their flower shop and has a generally happy life.

But things begin to change when Comte de Vaudreuil, an elderly Parisian noble to whom Mathilde delivers flowers in the second episode, takes her under his wing and starts teaching her fencing for an unknown reason and generally seems to know more about her than he lets on.

Little does Mathilde know, those fencing lessons will end up coming in handy sooner than she expected. When her parents are killed by corrupt nobles, the girl teams up with Comte de Vaudreuil’s son, François, to fight against corruption as heroes of the people, all while the revolution keeps drawing near day by day and tensions in the city are at an all time high.

This is the gist of the story, dear readers, so with that out of the way, here’s the actual review:

3. The Story

Honestly, I kind of like the plot. It has a certain charm to it, like an old swashbuckling novel, of which I’ve read a lot as a kid.

The narrative of a “hero of the common folk” has been a staple in literature for centuries so some might consider the premise to be unoriginal, but I personally like this narrative more than “champion of the rich” (Looking at you, Scarlet Pimpernel) because, historically, it really was a difficult time for commoners and when times are hard people tend to need such heroes the most.

People need hope, so it’s no surprise that Mathilde and François (who already moonlights as a folk hero, The Black Tulip) become living legends thanks to their escapades.

Interestingly enough, the series also subverts a common trope of a hero seeking revenge for the death of his family. Mathilde is deeply affected by the death of her parents but she doesn’t actively seek revenge. Instead, this tragedy makes the fight and the upcoming revolution a personal matter to her and motivates her to fight corruption because she is not the only person who ended up on its receiving end.

The pacing is generally pretty good but I do wish there were less filler episodes and more of the overarching story that’s dedicated to the secret that Comte de Vaudreuil and Mathilde’s parents seem to be hiding from her and maybe it would be better if the secret in question was revealed to the audience a bit later than episode 7 or so.

However, revealing the twist early on is still an interesting narrative choice because then the main question is not what the secret itself is but rather when and how Mathilde will find out and how she will react, not to mention how it will affect the story.

That being said, even the filler episodes do drive home the point that a hero like Mathilde is needed, that nobles are generally corrupt and that something needs to change. Plus, those episodes were still enjoyable and entertaining enough for me to keep watching, which is good because usually I don’t like filler episodes much and it’s pretty easy to make them too boring.

Unfortunately, the show is affected by the common trope of the characters not growing up but I don’t usually mind that much. It also has the cliché of heroes being unrecognizable in costumes and masks, but that’s a bit of a staple in the superhero stories even today so it’s not that bothersome.

4. The Characters

It was admittedly pretty rare for a children’s show to have characters who were fleshed out enough to seem realistic and flawed, but I think this series gives its characters more development than most shows for kids did at the time.

I especially like Mathilde as a character. Sure, at first glance she seems like a typical Nice Pretty Ordinary Girl ™️ but that was a part of the appeal for me.

I am a strong believer in that a character does not need to be a blank slate or a troubled jerk to be interesting and Mathilde is neither of the above. She is essentially an ordinary girl with her own life, family, friends, personality and dreams and, unfortunately, all of that is taken away from her when her parents are killed.

Her initial reluctance to participate in the revolution is also pretty realistic as she is still trying to live her own life in peace and she made a promise to her parents to stay safe so there’s that too.

I really like the fact that the show did not give her magic powers and that she was not immediately good at fencing. François does remark that her fencing is not bad for a beginner but in those same episodes she is clearly shown making mistakes and it takes her time to upgrade from essentially François’s assistant in the heroic shenanigans to a teammate he can rely on and sees as an equal. Heck, later there’s a moment when Mathilde saves François, which is a nice tidbit of her development.

Mathilde also doesn’t have any romantic subplots, which is really rare for a female lead.

She has a childhood friend, Florent, but the two are not close romantically and they even begin to drift apart somewhat once Florent becomes invested in the revolution. François de Vaudreuil does not qualify for a love interest either - his father does take Mathilde in and adopts her after her parents are killed so François is more of an older brother than anything else.

Now, I’m not saying that romance is necessarily a bad thing but I do think that not having them is refreshing than shoehorning a romance into a story that’s not even about it. Plus most kids don’t care that much for romance to begin with so I’d say that the show only benefits from the creative decision of not setting Mathilde up with anyone.

Another interesting narrative choice I’d like to point out is the nearly complete absence of historical characters, like the revolutionaries. They do not make an appearance at all, save for Saint-Just’s cameo in one of the last episodes and, fortunately, he doesn’t get demonized. Instead, the revolutionary ideas are represented by Florent, who even joins the Jacobin Club during the story and is the one who tries to get Mathilde to become a revolutionary. Other real people, like young Napoleon and Mozart, do appear but they are also cameo characters, which does not count.

Marie-Antoinette and Louis XVI are exceptions to the rule.

(Spoiler alert!)

Marie-Antoinette is portrayed as kind of spoiled and out of touch. Her spending habits get touched on too but she is not a malicious person at heart. She is simply flawed. She becomes especially important to the story later on when Mathilde finds out the secret that has been hidden from her for her entire life.

As it turns out, Marie- Antoinette, the same queen Mathilde hated so much, is the girl’s older half-sister and Mathilde is an illegitimate daughter of the Austrian king and an opera singer, given to a childless couple of florists to be raised in secret so that her identity can be protected.

The way Marie-Antoinette and Mathilde are related and their further interactions end up providing an interesting inner conflict for Mathilde as now she needs to reconcile this relationship with her sister and her hatred for the corruption filling Versailles.

The characters are not actively glorified or demonized for the most part and each side has a fair share of sympathetic characters but the anime doesn’t shy away from showing the dark sides of the revolution either, unlike some other shows that tackle history (*cough* Liberty’s Kids comes to mind *cough*).

All in all, pretty interesting characters and the way they develop is quite realistic too, even if they could’ve been more fleshed out in my opinion.

5. The Voice Acting

Pretty solid. No real complaints here. I’d say that the dub actors did a good job.

6. The Setting

I really like the pastel and simple color scheme of Paris and its contrast with the brighter palette of Versailles. It really drives home the contrast between these two worlds.

The character designs are pretty realistic, simple and pleasant to watch. No eyesores like neon colors and overly cutesy anime girls with giant tiddies here and that’s a big plus in my book.

7. The Conclusion

Like I said, the show is not available in English and those who are able to watch it might find it a bit cliché but, while it’s definitely not perfect. I actually quite like it for its interesting concept, fairly realistic characters and a complex view of the French Revolution. I can definitely recommend this show, if only to see what it’s all about.

Some people might find this show too childish and idealistic, but I’m not one of them.

I’m almost 21 but I still enjoy cartoons and I’m fairly idealistic because cynicism and nihilism do not equal maturity and, if not for the “silly” idealism, Frev itself wouldn’t happen so I think shows like that are necessary too, even if it’s just for escapism.

If you’re interested and want to check it out, more power to you.

Anyway, thank you for attending the first ever official meeting of the Jacobin Fiction Convention. Second meeting is coming soon so stay tuned for updates.

Have a good day, Citizens! I love you!

- Citizen Green Pixel

#review #french revolution #anime #history #television #frev media #Jacobin Fiction Convention #marie antoinette #French Revolution anime #la seine ni hoshi #la tulipe noire dessin animé #la tulipe noire

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ratmonky · 4 years ago

Text

Stairway to Devotion

I’m quite certain that if a character is very like me, I just write them ooc and turn it into vanilla self indulgent fic.

AO3 Link

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: none

The abandoned warehouse was quiet for the most part. Demons were lurking in the shadows and in the forest, ready to attack unassuming humans and that was why this small town had been declared as dangerous. Humans didn’t come here to avoid being killed. Yet for a stray like Denji, it was welcoming enough to call home.

Denji had been to many places but he liked this warehouse the best. It provided him the security he desperately needed to sleep at night and most importantly, the electricity was still working. He had gathered many simple kitchen gadgets and a small heater thanks to the people who had thrown them away despite them functioning properly. But that was life, he thought. He would be thrown away by Yakuza soon if he didn’t make enough money. No matter the fact if he was giving results or not, just like the electronic junk he kept finding in the dumpsters.

With the little money he had, his dinners consisted of a slice of bread and very rarely the leftovers he found in the trash behind a restaurant if he was lucky enough.

He ate when there was enough and slept when there wasn’t. But even in his desperate state, he made sure to feed his demon dog, Pochita.

Pochita ate almost anything, even go as far as nibbling on Denji’s arms when he was sleeping at times but sometimes even he, a demon, gave his single slice of bread to Denji out of pity.

In the last years, Denji had sold his body parts to the black market. He had thought he had made quite some money out of his kidney and eye that he sold but he had no idea how they paid him only the half amount of money.

And now, he was trying his best to live for another day with Pochita. Chop woods, kill demons and sell more of his body parts to pay his debt to the Yakuza.

His paycheck wasn’t great and that debt collector of his was a douche but he never complained. Even if his paycheck only allowed him to buy bread and nothing else.

Because at the end of the day, when it was nighttime, he always found peace in the small store he bought bread from. Not because the prices were so low that he sometimes managed to buy two loaves of bread or how they let the customers read the magazines before buying and although he never bought the magazines, he liked to entertain himself and sometimes check the newest porn star’s spread open legs so he could go back to the warehouse and wrap his hand around his cock as he closed his eyes to remember what that looked like-

Ahem…

No, Denji liked this store because of the cashier.

Someone so sweet, someone so kind, someone so loving and someone so beautiful-

“Hii, Denji! You’re late today!” you smiled as the boy entered the store. Stopping sweeping the floor for a moment, you crouched down and gently petted the small dog that had run up to you. “Aww, Pochita, I missed you too!”

Pochita happily whimpered and leaned into your touch as his tail kept hitting the floor out of joy.

“Came to buy bread?” you asked, looking up to the young man. He nodded sheepishly and crouched next to you to pet his dog. “Well, it’s good that I was waiting for you two just in case then.”

“Oh, sorry…” Denji lowered his head. “We were too deep in the forest so coming back to the city took a while. Don’t wait for us if ya gotta close the store.”

“It’s alright, I kinda memorized how often you came to buy bread so I guessed you’d be here. And where would you buy bread from if I had closed the store, huh?”

Denji couldn’t answer.

“Exactly!” you giggled, scratching under Pochita’s chin. “Ahh, he’s so friendly today. Didn’t you feed him?”

“I did! He ate my share too! He started running down the damn street when he realized we were gonna buy bread,” Denji said. “He just likes ya better than me.”

“That’s because I always have this in my pocket!!” you giggled as you pulled out a beef jerky from your pocket.

Pochita started wiggling his tail rapidly and barked excitedly. You tore the packaging open and let the demon dog nibble on the snack before standing back up again.

Your eyes met Denji’s while he was pouting. A soft smile spread across your face, “What?”

“I told ya, didn’t I? If ya keep feeding those he’s gonna leave me for ya!” Denji slowly rose up to his feet, completely unfazed by your puppy eyes.

“Admit it, you’re just jealous,” you said, playfully hitting his chest.

Denji blushed slightly, “I ain’t jealous!”

“Yeah, sure!” You walked behind the counter after picking up the small broom. The lights flickered as you crouched to put the broom away and disappeared from his view for a second.

Denji’s eye landed on Pochita who was still munching on the beef jerky and then back to the counter before he went to grab a loaf of bread.

He wondered how much longer you would be waiting for them if Denji hadn’t taken the bus. His paycheck was almost finished. That bus ride hadn’t been cheap and he would have to sleep instead of eating dinner for a couple of nights, Denji wouldn’t hesitate to take the bus here again. It was outrageous for a nobody like him to make you wait. Although he knew you were doing this because you had a soft spot for his dog but Denji couldn’t help himself. He enjoyed having someone greet him with a smile and talk to him as if he was their friend. It all made him feel welcomed.

With you, he felt like this world wasn’t just rotten.

When he put the loaf of bread on the counter, there was a large plastic bag full of food next to it. You were smiling at him with the biggest smile he had ever seen.

He wanted to flash you a smile matching yours but remembering how yellow his teeth were, he resisted the urge. “What are ya smiling at?”

You shrugged. “Is that all?” You put the loaf of bread in a plastic bag.

“Do ya even have to ask?” Denji scoffed, taking out the thin envelope that had the rest of his paycheck money in it. He reluctantly took out a bill and gave it to you.

“You never know!” You gave him his change. “Maybe you’d wanna spice things up and buy hot coffee or something!”

“Heh, if I could I’d buy meat buns and beer.” Denji shook his head. By the time he took his bread, Pochita was done eating. He was about to turn around and leave the store when you called out to him.

Whipping his head around, Denji’s eye landed on your nervously fidgeting figure holding the large plastic bag of food.

“What is it?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and held the plastic bag out for him. “Please accept this.”

He stared at the bag for a moment longer than the normal. “What’s in that?”

“Meat buns, beef jerky, beef, and everything I knew you’d want.”

Denji gently grabbed the bag from your small hands and felt his chest tighten. “I don’t have enough money for all-”

“It’s a present from me!” you said.

“For what?” He couldn’t believe the amount of food a plastic bag could carry. There was enough food to feast on for months if not weeks.

“For being a loyal customer!” you chirped and put your hands on his shoulders to start leading him out of the store. “So don’t you ever stop shopping here! There’ll be a bigger present next time!”

Denji’s lips curled up into a smile. “I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot. We can’t accept this.”

Pochita growled at his owner in irritation.

“Stop that,” Denji told his dog. He then turned to you. “Thank you but ya really should return these.”

You weren’t going to give up that easily.

“I can’t! We have a no return policy, I already paid for them.”

“Haa? Why would ya buy shit for me with yer own money?” Denji didn’t sound upset even one bit. Only surprised. “Ugh, nevermind!” He put the plastic bag down and picked Pochita up. “We’ll be going home, ya should take that to your place if yer unable to return it.”

“Can you at least help me carry it back to my place?”

Denji was going to say no but seeing the way your lower lip quivered, he was unable to.

“Alright but I’m doing it because it’s too heavy!”

~~~

“Please! Next time… rent a place with an elevator or… on the first floor!” Denji wheezed when he finally reached to your apartment.

You giggled and let Pochita down, “You’ll get used to it.”

“What does that supposed to mean?” He caught up to you with his wobbly legs as you opened the door.

“Have you two had dinner yet?” you asked, ignoring his question.

“Ah...” Denji rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and avoided answering your question but his growling stomach gave him away.

With another friendly smile, you opened your door wider, gesturing them to enter. “I should at least thank you two for walking me home, right?”

“We should really head back- ack! Pochita!” Denji shouted after Pochita who ran inside of your apartment. “You bastard,” he mumbled.

“At least one of you are honest.” You took off your shoes and watched Denji huff in defeat before taking his own shoes off.

~~~

You stole a quick glance in his direction and snorted when you saw him still stuffing food in his mouth.

Pochita had already passed out from overeating and you wondered how long would it take until Denji joined him on the couch.

“You’re still going?” you giggled as you placed a can of beer in front of him.

“Of course!” Denji chirped in between bites. “It’s soo tasty!”

You blushed at the compliment, “I’m glad you liked it. I have some leftovers if you’d want them.”

He nodded rapidly and continued wiping his plate clean.

Once he was done eating, he cracked his beer open, holding it towards you. “Thank you for the food!”

You clinked your beer can with his, “My pleasure.” Momentarily you looked at Pochita and snickered. “He’s out cold already.”

“Pathetic, he should’ve eaten until his stomach started bloating. He’s never gonna get this much food again.”

“Dogs have a smaller stomach, Denji,” you giggled. “He probably ate as much as his little body allowed him to.”

“Do you live alone?” he asked suddenly, it was clear that he was only curious but from the moment he stepped into your apartment he had been looking at the framed pictures or any decoration you had in the living room to figure out what kind of a person you were.

“Y-yeah,” you said softly. “What about you? Where do you live?”

“I live in some abandoned warehouse next to the forest with Pochita.”

You would have laughed thinking it was a joke if it wasn’t the pained tone he said it in.

“Thank you,” he said weakly, his voice didn’t come out as confident as he thought, “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Stunned, you looked at him with a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “D-Denji? W-what are you talking about?”

“You’re the only person who makes me feel welcomed in this world.” Denji smiled sadly. “I… I know it’s pathetic but I have feelings for you.” Denji could never willingly let you be involved with him completely. If he did, you would be involved in deep trouble. You didn’t deserve him, you didn’t deserve human trash like him.

Your eyes widened and you stumbled on your words. “Oh… I don’t know what to say-”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Denji sighed. “I wanted to let you know, that’s it.”

“That’s not it!” you protested, your voice trembling. “Don’t think so lowly of your feelings, idiot!v Why do you think I care for you? Why do you think I started working night shifts?”

“(Name)...”

“It’s because I like you!”

It was quiet.

The kind of quiet right before a storm.

Denji’s cheeks flushed bright red and he looked unsure of what to do or say. He was prepared in case you rejected him but you had gone and accepted him right away.

You looked up at him with your cheeks tinted with a faint red, “I like you,” you admitted meekly again.

Another moment of silence passed.

You couldn’t stop blushing. It wasn’t your plan to confess your feelings to Denji tonight but you had done it. There was no going back now. You had to say something else, you had to do something because that damn idiot looked like he stopped functioning.

“Do you want to have sex?” you dared to ask.

He started to tremble, then his eye widened. He stared at you and he looked so utterly confused. “With who?”

You blushed even harder and pointed at him then at yourself.

Denji pointed a finger at himself and then at you before he looked at you for affirmation.

You nodded slowly.

Everything happened within a minute.

You got up from your seat and offered a hand to him. He gently held your hand, intertwining your fingers as he followed you into your bedroom and closed the door.

Both of you were blushing and didn’t know where to start.

He wanted to touch you everywhere, your face, your neck, your breasts, your stomach, your waist, your thighs and your… your-

The image of the pornstar spreading her legs to reveal her pussy flashed before his eyes.

Whether it be the years of sexual frustration suddenly exploding or his crush trembling in lust and need, Denji’s body moved on its own. He could already feel himself lose control.

Denji put a hand on your shoulder awkwardly, his eye locked on yours. You were looking at him with anticipation, waiting for him to make a move… no you were desperate for him to make a move.

Oh, he wanted to do so many things to you but he didn’t know where to start.

He gave you a shaky smirk to cover his own embarrassment. You looked at him as if you knew what he was thinking and beamed at him, making his already hard cock twitch impatiently.

With the way you looked at him, he could see the attraction you felt towards him.

He cupped your cheek in his hand and you leaned into his touch, rubbing your cheek into his palm.

Audibly, Denji gulped. He leaned in to press his lips on yours. You moved your lips softly against his, encouraging him to open his mouth and when he did, you gingerly snaked your tongue into his mouth.

Denji, as someone who had only seen people kissing in pictures, followed your lead.

The kiss was short, tongues timid and teeth clashing. Nonetheless, it left you breathless. But when Denji leaned forward for a second kiss, that changed everything.

This time, he wasn’t shy, his mouth moved hard against yours as he savored your taste. His hands started moving on their own, his fingers went under your shirt and up to feel your clothed breasts. He moaned into the kiss when he finally groped your tits, they were softer than he had imagined, he wanted to touch them without your bra on. He needed to feel them completely.

His clothed erection was poking at your stomach You moved a hand up to his hair and stroked his cock over his pants with your free hand.

A gasp left Denji’s lips, he broke the kiss and stared between your bodies.

You were touching his dick.

You really were touching him.

“Should we go to bed?” Your voice was as soft as your touch.

Numbly, Denji nodded but he couldn’t move a muscle when your finger very slightly brushed against his bulge, he buried his face in the crook of your neck instead.

You huffed as if you were disappointed but then with a giggle, you removed your hand from his cock and dropped onto your knees.

Denji squealed in surprise and covered his mouth in shock. “(Name)... w-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like to you?” You fumbled with his belt and when it came undone, you hastily pulled his pants down along with his boxer briefs, making his cock bounce free.

“It’s weird...” he whispered, about to take a step away.

You licked your hand to coat it generously with your spit, ignoring his cry. You wrapped a hand around his cock and looked up at him after noticing why he had been so insecure. “It’s fine,” you said reassuringly, pumping his cock.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, Denji held his voice back. Your fingers stroked his cock gently as you ran your tongue up following a vein before kissing the sensitive pink tip. No matter how good it felt, he couldn’t help but move his hips, begging for you to take him into your mouth.

Denji placed a hand on the back of your head and you smiled, stroking him harder. His legs started to shake. Deciding that you might have been teasing him too much, you kissed the tip of his cock once again but this time you sucked his cock into your mouth.

He groaned loudly against his hand. His cock throbbed, nearly cumming because of your hot mouth closing around it. You put a hand on his thigh and bobbed your head slowly.

“Ahh.” He bit his lip. “Your mouth feels so good.”

You chuckled, the vibrations coming from your throat made him shiver in pleasure, almost making his knees unbuckle.

All of Denji's remaining self-control disappeared at that moment.

His hand that was on the back of your head shoved you onto his cock until he could graze the back of your throat. Your eyes teared up as you resisted the urge to gag, instead, you tried to push him away with your hand on his thigh.

Denji’s hips started moving, he thrust forward and moved you to meet his thrust halfway until your nose brushed on his pubes. He kept you there as long as he could to enjoy the view.

Your cheeks bright red, eyes filled with tears and his cock buried deep in your throat.

He had only imagined what it would look like in his dreams but now that he had seen the real thing, he wanted to see more of you. Like how you would look under him.

Decidedly, Denji pulled you away from him, the strands connecting your lips to his cock broke as you inhaled deeply. You opened your mouth to scold him for carelessly forcing his cock down your throat, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed.

Your body bounced against the mattress and you watched him climb on top of you, just like a predator stalking its prey.

His unkempt hair was sticking to his forehead, his clothes were a mess, his eyepatch had slipped slightly and his breathing was uneven. It made you wet seeing Denji look so… messy.

Though you were about to undress, Denji moved quicker. He hoisted your skirt up and tore your pantyhose to reach your now soaking wet cunt.

Quickly, Denji undressed.

“Can you?” Denji leaned forward, his fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.

Biting your lip, you nodded. You sat up and with one swift move, took off your shirt and moved to remove your skirt along with your now ripped pantyhose with your panties. Finally, you reached back to unclasp your bra. As you slid your bra down your shoulders, Denji’s eye didn’t look away from your tits even for a second.

You folded your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your breasts.

“Don’t hide yourself,” he pleaded. His hands gently unwrapping your arms.

A moan left your lips when he squished your tits together, mesmerized by them. He stopped moving for a second and blushed. He kneaded the soft flesh slowly until he heard you moan again.

“Do you want me to stop?” he took a staggered breath as you laid on your back.

“No,” you stammered. There was no way you could deny how aroused you were. Not when your juices were leaking out from your pussy and soaking your thighs. “P-please be gentle.”

“I don’t think I can.” Denji’s words left you petrified. “I can’t hold back, sorry.”

“Denji,” you softly sighed, nodding sheepishly. “Do as you like.”

Pausing for a second, he looked at you and swiped his thumb across your lower lip, he pressed it on the corner of your lip and gently pulled it down to slightly part your lips. Then he lowered himself over your face, pressing his chest against yours until his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft and warm, only a distraction as he was lining himself up at your entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning softly while he ran his cock between your folds, coating it with your juices.

To let him know that you were at your limit, you spread your legs wider, welcoming him completely.

Denji broked the kiss and abruptly pushed himself in. He froze inside you, his cock twitched in pleasure as the gummy flesh of your walls wrapped around it.

This felt so different. It was nothing like your mouth.

He took a moment to steady himself, he wasn’t sure if he could last longer than a minute.

You let out a whimper, your lips parted and you moved your hips, begging him to move.

“Gimme a second,” he choked out.

You didn’t listen.

Moving your hips, you tried to slam yourself onto his cock.

With a loud growl, Denji grabbed you by your hips and snapped forward, forcing a moan out of you. He had finally pushed himself balls deep into your pussy, filling you up to the brim so perfectly.

Another moan left you as he tentatively pulled back and slammed himself back into your twitching pussy. And again and again-

Each thrust of his hips was deep and penetrating enough to make your toes curl and wrap your arms tighter around his neck. His cock was stretching you so well, you had never felt like this before.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers twirled around his long straight hair, moaning quietly into his neck each time he hit a sensitive spot. Denji’s thrusts became stronger and more animalistic each time you screamed or whimpered.

Denji’s lips clumsily found yours to muffle some of your noises. He sloppily kissed you, sucking your tongue in his mouth while he humped your cunt like a desperate dog in heat.

He grabbed your hips even tightly, his nails digging into your skin as he mercilessly began pounding in your pussy. Your legs started shaking in pleasure, your hips kept moving to meet his and your walls tightened around him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders when the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, you dragged them down, leaving red streaks on his back.

“Denji,” you whimpered. “I’m close.”

He nodded knowingly, his eye rolling up as your walls tightened around his twitching cock and pushed inside of you for the last time. Your walls pulsated against his dick and sucked him in deep as Denji spilled his seed inside your unprotected fertile pussy with a loud growl. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist with no intention of letting him go as the warmth of his seed completely filled your belly.

Right after sliding out of you, Denji lazily fell onto the bed next to you, exhausted and breathless.

It took him a few minutes to collect himself and as he was about to open his mouth to say something awkward, you pressed your lips onto his for a short kiss, taking his breath away.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you finished the kiss. His hand cupped your tit and his nose nuzzled into your hair to inhale your delicious smell. He moved closer to you while you were busy trying to pull the blanket over the two of you.

Once you managed to get under the blanket, Denji gave you a chaste kiss against your hair before you drifted into slumber.

~~~

“I told ya, didn’t I? You made him into a softie! He can’t even cut as sharp as before! His chainsaw broke!”

“It’s your fault for not feeding him well,” you said, hugging Pochita tighter. “Besides everyone needs a little embrace sometimes to work harder.” The dog licked your cheek in response.

Denji wheezed out for air as he reached on top of the stairs, nearly dropping the groceries.

You laughed and put Pochita down, “Geez, you’ve soaked your shirt in sweat!”

“Because it’s too damn hot!” Denji furrowed his brows as he tried to catch his breath.

The weather was too hot compared to any other summer months. Although it was nearing the end of September, the sun was still blazing hot.

Denji faintly remembered how you had told them that here the weather was always warm.

He liked the warm weather, he liked this place too but the damn stairs… they were going to be the death of him. He didn’t even know why he climbed them so hurriedly each time.

Leaning down, you planted a kiss on Denji’s cheek, “You’ll get used to it.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at you and when he saw you smiling at him so brightly he remembered why. “Ya keep saying that!”

#oof this is so embarrassing gaddamn so self indulgent #ugh and i am the first person to post reader insert for denji omg ughhhhh #people are gonna point at me and laugh #ugh i am sorry i just love him so much fuckk #denji x reader

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

Text

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 1

Summary: Almost a year after Maeve’s death, Spencer reaches out to the recipients of Maeve’s donated organs to reconnect with his lost love. However, when the receiver of her heart, Reader, doesn’t write back, Spencer goes on a poorly-motivated mission to find her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing)

A/N: There is an OC in this story because to me, writing “(y/n)” over and over again cheapens the story and doesn’t flow well. It was a personal decision, and to anyone it sincerely bothers, I’m sure there’s a way you can insert your own name instead. This fic is also inspired by “Things We Know By Heart” by Jessi Kirby. Category: Series, Soft Angst, Eventual Smut + NSFW content* Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC Content Warning: allusions to death, mourning, loss, recovery, arrhythmia (this is an intro chapter, so it’ll get more interesting from here I promise) Word Count: 2.2k

This will be a multi-part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It all started that first autumn after Maeve’s death - just five weeks past a year since I parted with her. I was absentmindedly reading when, rather out of the blue, Mary Donovan called to inform me about a Mrs. Rachel Larsen.

Although we didn’t learn her actual name until later, she was first known to us as the recipient of Maeve’s liver. Not a single one of the three of us - Maeve’s parents and me - had expected a recipient to be in contact with us. That inability to predict such an event was caused by my neglect to remember Maeve was an organ donor. It wasn’t particularly relevant in the grand scheme of things, and for that forgetfulness, I was truly ashamed, but after reading Rachel Larsen’s letter together with the Donovans, it all came back to me.

Every single thing.

You see, despite the anonymity of the person writing to us, it was as if I could actually feel Maeve’s soul coming alive again, as strange as that sounds.

She was still here with me ... in some form.

Later that night, when I would return to an empty apartment, I would wonder why I hadn’t thought of reaching out to the recipients before. Even though I’d already started writing a thank you letter back to Rachel, the thirst for more of Maeve became increasingly insatiable.

While I did have fond memories of her to live by, I couldn’t thrive off of them in the way that I did with that letter. Our only moments together worth reliving were those spent over the phone, a time when I didn’t even know what she looked like. But that letter from Rachel Larsen ... it was somehow more wholesome and pure than any memory of the living Maeve that I could cultivate.

You could say I was doing this to ease my mourning, meaning it should’ve made me feel better, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating away at me piece by piece as I wrote letters to the rest of the recipients.

The Donovans had no idea I was doing this, but I reasoned to myself that they would appreciate the surprise. Though they were still undeniably riddled with grief, smiles embellished their sullen faces when they read about Rachel’s quality of life now with a new liver. So maybe, just maybe, hearing from the rest of the receivers would be good for us all. At least, that’s what I told myself.

In one of those rare moments when inspiration strikes and it courses through your veins at the speed of lightning, I found myself being more productive than I had been in nearly a year. By midnight, I’d successfully composed five letters, each dedicated to the receiver of one of Maeve’s major organs - none of which, though, included my identity.

Given the fragile process of contacting the transplant coordinators, getting consent forms, and premeeting counseling, it would be months, if not years, before I would be able to really speak with these faceless people. Nothing against Donor Family Services - I’m sure they do the best they can - but for me, their best wasn’t good enough. So instead, I enlisted the help of someone I knew could never let me down.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Penelope peered up at me from her seat, her pinky finger hesitantly hovering over the ‘enter’ button.

“Yes.”

With just one click, she discovered the addresses of each one of those faceless people. This singular operation, albeit somewhat unethical, was the final piece to my puzzle. All there was left to do now was send the letters to them, with the tenuous hope they might send one back.

Luckily for me, not a single recipient questioned how I managed to find them or why this process wasn’t being handled by Donor Family Services, but I suppose if they did wonder those things, they didn’t feel comfortable asking me. Especially not after they learned who I was in relation to their donor. I didn’t intend to guilt-trip anyone with what I wrote in my letters nor did I want to take advantage of anyone’s empathy, but how could you possibly make a foe out of your organ donor’s grieving boyfriend? Exactly - you can’t. So you don’t. Instead, you send an inviting letter back, telling me you’d love to meet. Which is what four of them did.

Only one person didn’t reply, and while an 80% success rate was great, I simply couldn’t let this one go. Trust me, I would have ... had it been any other organ.

For quite some time, I was the one with Maeve’s heart.

I just needed to see where it was now.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The heart has several definitions and corresponding connotations.

Scientifically speaking, the heart is a hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation. However, figuratively, the heart can be seen as the central or innermost part of something. The heart of a city, for example. But in literature, the heart is symbolic of love. It is often regarded as the source of all knowledge, which is where the comparison between the head and the heart comes from. The head operates logically, whereas the heart functions emotionally, but despite the rationality the head holds, the heart is what people advise you to listen to because it holds the ultimate truth.

The heart, because it is equipped with your truest feelings, supersedes any logic and reason the head might hold.

But you see, I only ever knew Maeve’s mind. I could understand the inner workings of it - I’d probably be able to navigate through her consciousness if I entered it given the fact that our intellect matched one another’s - and I shared nearly identical thought processes with her, but that was all that I ever knew.

And if that was how much knowledge she held in her head alone, then, undoubtedly, her heart held so much more.

Science defines the heart as an organ. Figurative language uses the heart to establish a focal point. Literature likens the heart to love. But I compare her heart to the ocean. Like the sea, Maeve’s heart was 80% undiscovered, and exploration was simply calling my name.

For that reason, and that reason alone, I couldn’t abandon my pursuit of it.

That’s not to say I wasn’t ashamed of this mission, though. If anything, shame for the man I had become in the face of Maeve’s death was the only feeling I was truly capable of anymore. Any other emotions were fleeting or insincere.

Unfortunately, that slimy, disgusting feeling was only amplified times ten when I found myself driving two hours and forty-five minutes to get to Virginia Beach.

No sane man would drive this far on a weekday for even their most prized possession, and yet here I was, exactly 180 miles away from home, seeking out someone who hadn’t had the courtesy to even write me back, let alone agree to meet with me. Who knows if she’d even give me the time of day.

She being Valerie.

“Valerie Elise Bishop was born on August 5th, 1988 in Henderson, Nevada, to parents Andrew and Sara, but when Valerie turned seventeen, she was diagnosed with arrhythmia,” Garcia explained to me over the phone on the car ride here. “It’s when-”

“When the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don't work properly, causing your heart to beat too fast, too slow or irregularly,” I accidentally cut in. Realizing I interrupted Garcia, I brought her back into the conversation by asking, “I know there are more than 3 million cases per year in the U.S, but isn’t it usually common for ages 60 or older?”

“You are most certainly correct, Boy Wonder. It is more common in ages 60 and older, however, her maternal grandmother passed away from arrhythmia, so the family history increased the likelihood.”

At the sound of this news, I had to pull the car over and physically stop just so I could grasp the weight of what I was really doing.

“In Henderson, Nevada ... maternal grandmother passed away ... family history increased the likelihood …” Garcia’s voice rang in my head.

It was then that I came face to face with the gravity of reality.

Valerie wasn’t just a faceless name or a recipient of Maeve’s heart, she was a person. And her humanity only became more apparent to me the more Penelope spoke.

For god’s sake, she and I grew up in the same state. She and I saw the same sunsets from the same little corner of the earth. She drove down the same highways and byways - we might’ve even crossed paths at one point or another! Not to mention that she lost her grandmother to the same disease that she was suffering from, and if there was one thing consistent about arrhythmia, it was very likely she’d been living with it for decades, if not her entire lifetime. It’s a long term disease that takes years to improve but only seconds to kill. All it would take is just one irregular beat, and she’d be dead. How can you possibly live with that constant fear looming over your head?

She is a person. I had to remind myself. Not just a means to explore more of Maeve.

“Hey, Garcia,” I turned the car back on. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I could just feel panic begin to rise in Garcia.

“No, I’m not talking about life, I’m talking about this.” Though she couldn’t see, I grandly gestured to the location, the car, and the passenger seat that was cluttered with files on Valerie. “I don’t feel right invading her privacy like this. It’s just selfish.”

I wasn’t the only one mourning something here.

“Are you sure?” Penelope clarified. Which was ironic considering she was the one who was unsure of doing any of this, to begin with. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have dragged Garcia into this. Something as immoral as this was totally against her character, but she did it anyway because her loyalty to her friends conquers all.

Like I said, my shame multiplied times ten. If not for Valerie, then certainly for Penelope.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m heading home.”

“Okay,” She softly returned. “Be safe.”

“Oh, and Garcia?” I asked before ending the call. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Dr. Reid.”

By the time I ended the call, the sun was already setting - that’s how long I’d been on the road for. The nearly-three-hour drive I would have to make for the second time today meant I wouldn’t be home in time to beat the pitch-black sky, so considering I was already in for a long night, I made a little detour for the one thing I couldn’t go home without.

A piping hot cup of coffee.

I felt something as rewarding as caffeine was well deserved for the self-restraint I demonstrated minutes ago. And maybe it was my exhaustion, both mental and physical, that brought me to the near conclusion that I would truly let this go, but I was honestly feeling like I could accept this. An 80% acceptance rate. Not bad, right?

Though I was basically half-asleep while waiting for my coffee, I could not miss the barista when she said, “Valerie! Your order’s ready!”

What are the chances?

A jolt of energy surged through my body and brought me back to life, causing me to whip my head around at the slightest semblance of movement. On instinct, my gaze gravitated to the woman walking towards the front counter. My pull to her was so strong that even if I hadn’t studied file upon file on her that included pictures of what she looked like, I still would’ve recognized her in a heartbeat.

I just knew. That’s her.

I had no plan whatsoever for how I should approach this, and yet I still rose from my seat, motivated by nothing more than the single belief that I needed to.

Was this the universe telling me that I was meant to run into her after all? That I needed to meet the woman with an oceanic heart?

But when I finally got to where she was, she glided effortlessly past me, not paying any mind to my presence. Why would she though? To her, I was no one. To her, I was the faceless person.

“Excuse me!” I bolted to the front counter after realizing I might’ve just missed my opportunity. The barista, stunned and concerned, furrowed her brows while she waited for my question. “Is that girl a regular here?”

“Valerie?” She pointed in her direction, to which I nodded rapidly. “Oh, yeah. She comes in here all the time. She works just across the street.”

When I came to this coffee shop, it was simply by chance. It wasn’t even the closest cafe, but it was the one I chose to go to for some inexplicable reason.

I’d like to think it was fate. I was meant to be here after all. Because right behind me stood the storefront of a building I had only briefly read about in Valerie’s file.

The Bones, Art Gallery & Studio

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 2 HERE!

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drxwsyni · 4 years ago

Text

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #yanderecore #yandere writing #yandere x you #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw claustrophobia

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 years ago

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Fall 2020 Anime Overview

I started out watching the a ton of anime for the Fall 2020 season, but then ended up not being caught up with most of them by the the time the end rolled around. I still pretty much intend to catch up with Yashahime Princess Half Demon someday (I do like the three leads, it just the plot’s been dull as dirt and the fights aren’t very inspired either) and though I dropped Wandering Witch after bad press started rolling in (I CANNOT deal with pointless tragedy in my current state of mind) I might check out a few more episodes someday just to from my own opinion. For now, let’s just quickly review the anime I DID manage to finish on time this season.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle is exactly what it says on the tin: Princess Syalis isn’t too bothered about being captured by demons and locked in their castle, but she does value a good night’s sleep, and she is absolutely ruthless when it comes to getting it- so ruthless, in fact, that the demons realized it might not be that she’s trapped in here with them, but that they’re trapped in here with her.

Sleepy Princess is top tier comedy comfort food. It rarely got a huge belly laugh, but it always but a smile on my face and was a great thing to watch before going to bed. Syalis’s single-minded search for some shut eye is a joke that could have gotten old very quickly, but the show consistently found creative ways to expand on the gags and build it’s world and a fun cast of characters along the way.

Though Syalis is downright brutal to the demons when it comes to getting what she wants (and has a knack for getting herself killed at well), thanks to a demon cleric that offers easy resurrections, you never feel too bad for anyone involved. In fact, the demons and Syalis form a strangely heartwarming bond over the course of the show , and it’s clear by the end that Syalis definitely has the ability to come and go if she damn well pleases and just finds this castle a fun place where she can find respite from her princessly responsibilities.

A nice bonus for those of us who like a little subversion is that the show has a lot of fun playing with standard adventure tropes- the demons often lament that Syalis is not at all what they expected from a captive princess, for one, but my favorite fun little twist is how Syalis feels about the hero currently on a (seemingly endless) quest to rescue her- she manages to both hold him in contempt AND consistently fail to remember his name. That level of disregard takes some impressive effort.

The show has the same director as the Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun anime and as such has a similarly nice comic and visual flourishes throughout. It definitely gets two sleepy thumbs up for me.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jujutsu Kaisen follows a young man named Yuuji Itadori who, after tangling with a demon, ends up with one inside him. With a death sentence hanging over his head, he’s inducted into a school for “jujutsu sorcerers”, and begins training to use his newfound powers to defeat demons and curses.

Jujutsu Kaisen quickly tells you on no uncertain terms it is Action Shonen, introducing a huge cast of a characters and powers and super high stakes and hey there’s even gonna be a tournament arc soon. It is really, really pretty to look at, with a killer opening and ending, some seriously great animation and cool visuals for the fights especially. But is it particularly memorable otherwise? Noooooot really, so far. The sea of technobabble it tends to descend into when trying to explain how the various powers work often has me zoning out and wishing they’d just let me watch the pretty punches. The villains and the general plot isn’t particularly compelling. The characters are nice enough, but haven’t given me much to be attached to so far. Though I do appreciate this one dude who is the embodiment of millennial ennui:

I’ll keep watching though, because it is a visually stunning, action-y thing to my turn your brain off to and god knows I want to turn my brain off all the time lately.

And the characters do have potential- the One Girl of the main group, Nobara, has a really fun personality in that she’s a total shitlord doofus brawler who can thus doof around with our equally dumbass protagonist, which is an pretty fun, unusual personality for the One Girl to have! Her interactions with Maki, the weapons expert senpai girl, are promising too. I’m just waiting for her to actually, you know, DO something that really shows off her skills- I’m told she DOES eventually get to (gasp) win fights on her own and do cool stuff, but so far show has kind at that of failed miserably and underused her like most action shonen underuse their girls. Plus, taking Yuuji out of the group for such a long stretch seems like a weird choice, we’ve been deprived really seeing him for relationships with his peers. The pacing seems off. But maybe the upcoming tournament arc will make up for that and actually be worthwhile!

Talentless Nana

In a world where kids with superpowers are sent to island schools to fight mysterious “enemies of humanity”, one class of such kids is thrown into chaos when they find themselves targeted by a deadly force.

It’s pretty much impossible to talk about Talentless Nana without discussing how it deviates dramatically from what its premise appears to be in episode one, so I’ll just say if you like stories with superpowers and intrigue, you should definitely sit through that first episode and see if the plot that’s eventually revealed is something that you’re here for. But if you want to avoid spoilers, DON’T GO BELOW THE CUT, because I’m about to get very spoilery.

Basically, Talentless Nana pulls a bait and switch, starting it’s first episode posing as generic superhero anime where the protagonist appears to be your standard meek-but-powerful anime boy (Nanao) who just needs some support and encouragement from a pink haired mind reading manic pixie dream girl (Nana) to unlock his self-confidence and ~true power~ (ugh)...only to take SHARP swerve when Nana ruthlessly murders Nanao and reveals she’s been sent by the government to take out the superpowered kids one by one because THEY are the considered the true enemies of humanity. Oh, and she doesn’t have any superpowers, or “talents”- she was just able to sus out everything Nanao was thinking through basic deductive reasoning because he was so flippin’ obvious and basic.

As my love for a certain character in a certain game may have clued people into, I am ALWAYS delighted when what appears to be a generic, underwritten girlfriend character is then revealed to be an interesting, ruthless mastermind. And having an anime appear to be about a bland boy with a Dream Girlfriend but then actually turn into a show about a deeply cynical, morally dubious girl who’s clearly holding down a lot of messy feelings as she considers everyone her enemy...well, it may be a cheap trick to some, but it also feels a little bit like justice for all the underwritten female characters sacrificed to bland male leads. It’s still rare enough that I dig it when it happens. And the metatext of Nana zeroing in on this kid as the most standard of main character boys, assessing him as the biggest threat because of it and knowing the perfect way to take him out, is pretty inherently funny to me.

But if the show JUST banked on that twist and was about Nana brutally and cynically slaughtering these kids, it would get boring quickly and Nana would be a bland character herself. Fortunately, it doesn’t go that route. Nana struggles and grows a lot over the course of the show. She finds opposition in transfer student Kyoya, a stoic (and socially awkward) young man who pretty quickly becomes suspicious of her. A lot of the tension from the early episodes comes from her sweating as she tries to outmaneuver him and she makes plenty of mistakes along the way. She also slowly but surely starts to question her mission, and we get an idea of her backstory and how the government specifically has groomed her into believing people with powers to be evil. That belief is one that’s challenged by her friendship with another girl, and it’s pretty rewarding to watch Nana’s feelings and world expand little by little.

The show is definitely a little schlocky-some of the plots (as well as the general premise of the government thinking this is the optimal way to get rid of their superpowered kids problem) fall apart if you think too much about them, and some of the kids Nana goes up against are sleazy and unlikeable in over the top ways (which makes it easy for her to stick to her convictions all these kids deserve to die at first). In particular, I have to give a heads up for some sleazy guys doing and saying sleazy things, though the show never gets too overbearing or graphic with it (and the gore is generally PG-13 level as well).

Basically. There are some truly ridiculous happenings in this show. But how ridiculous and pulpy and over the top it is can be part of the appeal, and it’s fun to just sit back and watch the spectacle of Nana and her peers head-scratching machinations.

So, while certainly not an anime with airtight construction or flawless quality and depth, I found Nana an overall entertaining watch, especially as a fan of cat-and-mouse murder-y shenanigans, and thought it has a very compelling main character and managed to end on a heartwrenching (but earned) note. I definitely wouldn’t say no to a second season and would be interested to see where things go from here.

#anime overview #sleepy princess in the demon castle #jujutsu kaisen #talentless nana #munou na nana #maoujo de oyasumi #fall 2020 anime #anime #my reviews

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that.

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek.

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things?

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response.

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion:

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home.

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who?

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door...

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home.

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.”

What’s more Star Trek than that?

#star trek #ST #mymetas #Anonymous

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save-the-spiral · 4 years ago

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PLS PLS LIST THE SWAPS!! TELL ME ABOUT THE SIBLINGS AND ALSO HIFUMI BECAUSE I LOVE HIM (IF YOU WANT!) I will also send more questions in the morning too, excited to see what you’ve been working on!!

OK OK OK !!!!! AHH! So, before assigning talents, I swapped the pools, so for the first game, I use the talents from the second game, and vis versa! For some i listed gender, sexuality, or neurodivergencies, though this isn’t all of them, and I haven’t developed them all to the same level!

This is SO long. I didn’t even bother mentioning things like my plans for the killing games. (I have DR1 planned out in full, but only parts of DR2 and the v3 anime)

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT IN HAPPINESS WHEN I SAW I HAD NEW ASK NOTIFS!!

LIST:

Trigger Happy Havoc (first game)

Kyoko Kirigiri- Ultimate Luckster- Mastermind (: Sometimes lesbians can be evil okay! was trained as a detective like everyone in her family and didn’t get the ultimate :) she’s definitely not mad about that :) her luck cycle depends on how far she plans things ahead. her good luck is when she’s spontaneous! She hates when ‘normal’ people are accepted by ultimates.

Makoto Naegi- Photographer (Mostly wildlife and nature photography, with Sayaka helping him for some animal photography (: trans and bi <3 One of sayaka’s birds nests in his hair like all the time)

Kiyotaka Ishimaru- Ultimate Swordsman (AUTISTIC ICON, has trained in kendo since he was a kid, then was essentially given away to the Fujisaki clan by his very stressed dad. Semiverbal, rarely speaks.)

Chihiro Fujisaki- Ultimate Yakuza (Taka is her bodyguard! His family is in debt to hers, the Fujisaki clan is the most powerful in Japan. trans icon, of course, dates Sayaka! Very direct, though she’s far more delicate and polite when talking to taka, her best friend)

Sakura Oogami- Ultimate Nurse (Works as an EMT- her clan still is in martial arts, so she’s still very buff, she assists in injuries at the family dojo. Autistic Icon)

Asahina Aoi- Ultimate Gamer (ULTIMATE ADHD. streams and has a ton of fun, will ramble while breaking records, demigirl who loves her girlfriend sakura :)

Mukuro Ikusaba- Ultimate Chef (Works best with ‘cheap’ food, and making them taste good. a byproduct of growing up on the streets with junko, and junko being bored of the same old food they dug out of the trash. now works closely with junko for her teams’ nutritional needs! autistic and sapphic.)

Junko Enoshima- Ultimate Team Manager (there are SO many sports she can never get bored, and the professional scene is always changing! prefers coaching womens’ teams, because being an ultimate brings them more publicity and usually higher pay :)

Mondo Oowada- Ultimate Prince (OH MY BOY. trans adhd icon. now the crown prince of Novoselic, with a reagent in his place until he comes of age. His service dog Chuck is a maltese and an absolute sweetheart. Chihiro takes him under her wing to teach leadership. also dates taka later OF COURSE, though they’re poly and I may add more ppl to their relationship later.)

Celestia Ludenburg- Ultimate Musician (specializes in violin, most strings, though she can play any instrument. grew up poor, dedicated herself to an instrument and persona to cope)

Byakuya Togami- Ultimate Musician (Yep. two musicians. two catty trans gay icons about to throw down. they HATE each other and grew up as rivals. specialize in classical, they literally tore a professional orchestra full of grown adults apart trying to make them side with who was the best musician. they’re so good that they’re matched, and Hope’s Peak accepts them as one student and combined ultimate. they room together. they fight. Literally if one of them gets expelled, the other does too, so they’re STUCK. eventually they become literally inseparable and insufferable together like the WORST siblings. I love them.)

Sayaka Maizono- Breeder (animal handler) (Specializes in birds!!!!!! has songbirds on her shoulders all the time. will give unsettling animal facts without realizing they’re unsettling. sends her songbirds to serenade chihiro when they start dating <3)

Yasuhiro Hagakure- Gymnast (you see this tall goof who acts like an older brother to everyone and wonder HOW he’s a gymnast. he’s completely different in competitions, though still lighthearted. becomes a big brother figure to mukuro and junko especially <3 also trans bc i say so.)

Leon Kuwata- Traditional Dancer (he just. kinda hates it. it takes SO much work and effort but he takes to it naturally. his cousin kanon is NOT like in canon, instead she’s helpful. he’d literally rather be doing anything else. doesn’t know how to do anything like... basic either. can’t cook. cant do his own laundry. everything was dedicated to traditional japanese dancing before he attended HPA.)

Toko Fukawa- Engineer (writes schematics and is very good at it. gets VERY upset when her plans go wrong. her notes are orderly and perfect. host for their system!)

Syo- Mechanic (a factive of genocider syo, NOT an actual killer. she’s a protector mainly, and also is more adept at hands on skills when it comes to fixing things, her hands are less shaky. Her notes are a disaster and she does it to spite Toko.)

Hifumi Yamada- (???) (reserve course) Protagonist! My BOY. HIFUMI IS GOOD OKAY. He’s autistic and loves anime and gaming! he’s not particularly ultimate-leveled at them, or anything else! Attending Hope’s Peak as a reserve course student! At one point he joins the student council as a reserve course representative even if he’s only a freshman :) He’s also a moderator in Hina’s livestream chat, under the username of JusticeHammer, fastest ban hammer this side of the internet. He's internet friends with hina and sakura, and doesn’t realize Oh We Go To the same SCHOOL until he bumps into them. and realizes hina doesnt know what he looks like. but sakura does. its hilarious. he’s aroace, and during the year they’re locked in HPA, is in a queer platonic partnership with Hina and Sakura, while they’re dating each other. it’s great.)

Goodbye Despair! (second game)

Peko Pekoyama- Lucky student (ohohoh. her luck relies on her conviction. if she has doubts her bad luck strikes HARD. trans!, was taken in by Fuyuhiko’s family when she was a baby, grew up as just another kid in the family. They all expected Fuyu to go off to HPA on his own and then BOOM acceptance letter)

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu- Programmer (He. gets so angry while coding. He has an array of rubber ducks to talk to and work through his coding issues with. trans of course. Very protective of Peko when people say she doesn’t have a ‘real’ ultimate. ADHD and Autistic)

Sonia Nevermind- Writer (Literary Girl) (Her family immigrated to Japan when she was young! She writes a lot of serial killer novels, murder mysteries and horror and all that! Trans and bi :)

Gundham Tanaka- Detective (YEAH my guy is a detective. still talks Like That. Trans and bi and he and Sonia were kinda-dating (t4t autistic power couple in the making) when things started happening. He spends some time with his cool older sister who he looks up to a LOT. He and Sonia talk through things together a lot, they both have those red string walls, one for murder cases, another for a fictional plot lmao.)

Mahiru Koizumi- Moral Compass (my GIRL. autistic. Her morals rely a lot on people taking responsibility and being reliable, and she ends up having to work through some biases she didn’t realize she had when she arrived at HPA. Is still protective of Hiyoko, though that protectiveness is spread a bit thinner to extend to the rest of the class.)

Hiyoko Saionji- Clairvoyant!!! (HI YES I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR DAYS. Has actual visions in dreams and when she suddenly faints, but doesn’t really realize they’re uhh Real Visions for a WHILE. uses her status as an ultimate clairvoyant to trick and bully kids when in school for a LONG time, though her homelife wasn’t great with her grandmother trying to find ways to make her visions more consistent. SHES ALSO 12 WHEN SHE JOINS THE 77TH CLASS. she’s just so advanced in academics and her ultimate is so interesting hope’s peak cant HELP but scout her early. she has SO many issues guys no one appreciates hiyoko enough, autistic gifted kid hiyoko my beloved.)

Akane Owari- Gambler (started gambling to help out her family and Got Good at it. is very very conscious of money and food like all the time. Runs the hope’s peak betting pools once she arrives. these ultimates bet on a lot of things. she ALWAYS wins. until she doesnt!!!)

Mikan Tsumiki- Martial Artist (ohhhh Mikan. Still anxious and clumsy (though not like THAT in canon) and literally no one looks at her and thinks Oh The ULTIMATE martial artist?? it isn’t until you see her in the ring that you understand. She started learning self defense as a kid because her (bad) parents essentially said she had to rely on and protect herself and no one else would help.)

Kazuichi Souda- Pop Idol (OH TRANS ICON? he’s nervous and paranoid about Everything still, though now it’s like. oh the entire world is always watching my every move this is Okay (: has the brightest neon album eras. he literally keeps up a like. weird chad persona when interacting with people because he’s masking how hard he’s constantly just internally screaming.)

Nagito Komaeda- Soldier (AHAHAH my mans got issues problems disorder he’s a messssss, this trans guy, this absolute gay. this boy leveled a city of thousands of people with his own hands and some bombs. Still has medical issues, but most of his like. treatments and medicine is hold hostage as long as he stays in line. believes the ends justify the means and anyone who dies to him is obviously weak, because look at him! he’s weak, but that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t have to be the strongest, he just has to be stronger than the weakest scum.)

Chiaki Nanami- Heir (OOF. Agender, uses any pronouns. Doesn’t really. enjoy being the heir. grew up with Byakuya in the same circles. she treats the economy and stock market and stuff like games. enjoys gaming but isn’t good at them. collects so many things. has halls full of collections. Her parents stopped controlling her once she was able to prove she had more money than them and could literally bankrupt them if she wanted.)

Hajime Hinata- Baseball Star (Chiaki’s best friend, his family was upper middle class until he hit it BIG as a baseball star. wants to do BIG things and wants to attend hope’s peak more than anything!! Doesn’t really think of baseball as his THING, just a means to an end! trans :)

Teruteru Hanamura- Biker Gang Leader (started with shaking down some jerks who didn’t pay their food and drink tabs at his mama’s restaurant. now he RUNS their tiny town. His siblings are essentially gang mascots, he works hard to keep them out of trouble (while bringing them to like. meetings where he ends up beating a dude almost to death. its fine). most of what he does it to get more money to keep the restaurant afloat and care for his mama with her health conditions.)

Nekomaru Nidai- Fashionista (the drama. the CHAOS. most people are like ohhh we can never understand this artistic genius when he’s literally just. vibing and has ADHD and a love for coffee. Works a lot on accessible clothing lines for disabled people! Also he and Kazuichi work together sometimes, Nekomaru is good at calming Kaz down and seeing like, the root of whatever problem and making it better. ALSO A TRANS ICON and just flaunts it.)

Imposter- In the hope’s peak days they are impersonating Ryota Mitarai, as a part of the 77th class. In the Killing Game they impersonate Mondo Oowada as the Ultimate Prince. They’re doin’ their best.

Ibuki Mioda- (???) (Izuru Kamakura) Protagonist! Gundham Tanaka’s older sister (though they’re in the same school year). Nonbinary and using just. an array of pronouns alongside she/her, and jokingly fights with gundham for neopronouns like MOM said it’s MY TURN on the rawrself pronouns. She attends the reserve course to stay at her brother’s side. She dresses loudly and acts even louder because !!! she wants to stand out!! in the middle of this drab reserve course hell!! but when things go down, she wants to be someone, to be worthy of being her amazing brother’s big sister. so she accepts some offers.

NON-KILLING GAME:

Ryota Mitarai- Ultimate Analyst (stays in his room. He’s terrified of the outside world but fascinated by it. watches hope’s peak academy through security feeds, picking up on little details. he just wants to understand things but never looks at the big picture.)

Chisa Yukizome- Ultimate Boxer (Homeroom teacher!! She’s working really hard and believes in everyone! Some are intimidated by talent, but she’s never hurt anyone outside of the ring! Dating Kyosuke)

Juzo Sakakura- Ultimate Student Council President (Has anger issues, though his work at reigning them in assisted in becoming an Ultimate. Was responsible for security and the Hope’s Peak student council. Dating Kyosuke)

Kyosuke Munakata- Ultimate Housekeeper (Meticulous, works himself to the BONE even if he’s good enough to not have to do that. Is working on establishing another Hope’s Peak! Dating Chisa and Jozu!!!)

Seiko Kimura- Ultimate Blacksmith (GIVE MY GIRL KNIVES!! She’s an anxious gal, always wearing a facemask that filters the air in her forge because she has some respiratory problems. she prefers making more decorative pieces like an artist, but sometimes can create utilitarian pieces or tools to fit specific needs. Still a doormat)

Ruruka Ando- Ultimate Pharmacist (She constantly asks Seiko for new tools for her developments in medicine, saying its all for the advancement of humanity, so Seiko denying any request is SELFISH, though she never thinks to make anything for seiko’s health issues. Dating Izayoi. Specializes in medicine for mental health. Not Doing Great :)

Sonosuke Izayoi- Ultimate Confectioner (He loves sweets. LOVES them. Creates things that look plain, ordinary. but taste so GOOD you CRY and maybe ascend for a little bit. sometimes Ando makes cool new drugs to put in the sweets, who knows! It’s a mystery! He always has like. a huge refrigerated case of fresh cakes, and constantly has a lollipop in his own specialty recipe in his mouth.)

#ask #former-champion #danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #super danganronpa 2 #I could tag every character but consider this: ITS 3 AM IT TOOK ME OVER AN HOUR TO WRITE THIS #not wizzy #dangan ronpa

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snails-oc-stuff · 3 years ago

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@dragonherder2030 @gl1tchxr

Decided to make this it’s own post but here’s the Lore stuff(previous posts: first, second).

Okay so basic world stuff before I get to characters-

This is kind of like your classical children’s book/movie/show, animals that have relations closer to human like ones and all talk and stuff. But darker! So yeah, warnings for mentions of death, hunting, and just some darker themes.

The animals mostly live in groups, usually mixed between similar species, though some completely only one species, and others are very spread out.

For example, a group of birds of prey consists of falcons, hawks, eagles, and the like. This group would probably be rather large and well known.

The next down, a group of different kinds of hawks, some are red-tailed hawks, some are goshawks or broad-winged hawks. Also probably well known, maybe a little smaller though

And next would be, say, a group of only Red-tailed hawks for example. These kinds are very rare, and 90% of the time are just families living by themselves for a bit, before rejoining another group.

Most of these groups, minus the third example, are lead by representatives of their species.

Representatives are about what they sound, there a single person that represents their species. There’s one for each general species(I’ll get into the specifics of what that means in a moment), and they’re kind of the judge, jury, and executioners of this world. They, of course, have to lead their people this way, but they also have to keep each other in check. If a representative is considered too far beyond redemption, they’ll be cast out by the others, and since the representatives represent their species, the rest of the species will also be outcast.

Representatives are chosen through death, in one of two ways. You see, representatives cannot die of old age, starvation, illness, or the like, their magically protected. They can only die from wounds/in battle, which is how the next representative is chosen. If defeated by another member of their own species, that animal well become the new representative. However, can choose an heir to replace them if they die by another species hand, though that rarely happens. In that case their heir is made the next representative, if this happens and they don’t have an heir the next representative will be random.

So, general species is a very vague phrase, so I’m gonna try and clear that a little. When I say general species I mean, for example, rather then just say Canine, there are foxes, wolves, coyotes, and many others. Rather then just say bird, or uh, song bird or flightless bird, I’d say there’s one secretary bird representative, one finch, one sparrow, one hawk, one kite.

However you wouldn’t specify past the that, for example, there’d be hyena representative, but not one specifically for, say, brown Hyena’s. A brown hyena *could* be the hyena representative, but it would be for all hyenas not just other brown hyenas. I hope that makes sense.

There are some animals where it’s kind of a gray zone, for example like how there are animals called leopards but aren’t actually leopards(snow leopard, clouded leopards, etc.), and in that case… yeah I’m just gonna look at the species a little and pick myself, not exactly perfect but that’s what we’re going with.

Okay now onto some of the other lore stuff, gosh this is already so long.

So ferals. As I mentioned before, some entire species have been outcast before(it’s pretty rare though), but what does that mean exactly? Well in this world when a representative fails their job and species so badly the entire world doesn’t want them, they’re species loses what makes them… more complex, what allows them to talk, and have more ‘human’ characteristics. They become wild animals, in the sense that we see them in the real world, if not worse because it also raises their aggression a bit.

Yeah I know, I never promised this animal world was well run. In fact I made it kind of badly run on purpose. Flawssss like blaming everyone for one persons mistake. Wonderful.

So, a feral animal *can*, technically still retain their more complex aspects, in certain cases, being the exiled representative, for example(because they still retain their near immortality and magic protection till they die). The other way, is if they have a non-feral animals soul. It’s possible for certain animals to trap souls in objects, and give them to people. If given to a feral animal, the feral animal regains their own mind, but can only speak in the voice of the dead animal.

Okay so there’s all that out of the way, let’s talk some more about relations. (Tw for talk about eating animals/hunting(by other animals of course) until the part that says ‘okay let’s move on from the dark stuff’)

So there are still, of course, predators in the world who can only eat meat. They’re usually given this through those who pass away from other means(old age, injury, or other such examples), however there are other cases. If there’s an actual battle between two or more groups(started for reasons other then food), or in special zones.

These zones are taught to all from a young age, and most people avoid them, however they are widely accepted as violence/hunting zones. Basically places where most rules don’t apply, and animals could be hunted/attacked/killed without much repercussion. These zones also work in reverse tho, because they’re sometimes used for groups of smaller animals to gang up on bigger ones without facing whole groups of bigger ones(they’d take one at a time). Oh and feral animals are always allowed to be attacked/fought/hunted on sight. They have no protection.

Okay let’s move on from the dark stuff! Interspecies relations,

So as I said, it’s not uncommon to see, say, different kinds of birds of prey together, it also wouldn’t be uncommon for birds in general to be grouped, usually in a settlement in that case.

You could probably see a bunch of aquatic mammals and reptiles sharing gossip and a snack on popular beaches.

A group of iguanas protecting a group of smaller newts and geckos.

But what about, crossing even the similar species bound? Seeing a jackal and a crocodile together, not as enemies but as friends? Very rare but not unheard of.

The most common, but not only, case of un-alike species being together is traveling. Two animals who are traveling alone/separated from their group, and have destinations close to each other. They may want extra protection, or just company. This is usually only 2, 3, or 4 animals. Bigger groups haven’t really been seen, but they probably exist lol.

Otherwise, they’ll be seen in settlements. Sometimes a group of, for example, aardwolves and actual wolves may settle, but they didn’t know really close by was a settlement of tigers. The two groups meet and happen to get along, their technically separate still, but they work together and live so close to one another a visiter may assume their one settlement.

And uh.

This is most, though not all, of the the kind of the world building stuff! Hope you like it, sorry for talking so long wheuduhfhsha.

I may make a other post talking about the story and characters specifically, but this was just the basis

OH ALSO. Most of the examples for relations I just made up on the spot and aren’t cannon, they *could* be, like there could be a jackal and croc friendship I make in the future, but most of them are just random things I came up with. That’s all.

As always questions/comments are encouraged because they help me improve and add onto the lore, and also help motivate me to work, lol.

#snails meta #rambles #talk #long post #tw: death mention #tw long post #tw animals eating other animals #animal ocs

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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years ago

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Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Super Green

The Green Knight s finally out and i can see it without having to wait a month and a half! I thank A24 for this rather quick turnaround because this thing has been on my radar fr what seems like forever! I’ve written about this before but A24 is my favorite studio releasing content. Neon is a close second and Netflix is making a real charge, but A24 releases classics. Some of my all-time favorite films are A24 products. Ex Machina, Hereditary, Under the Skin, The VVitch, Uncut Gems, Zola, Midsommar, Lady Bird, Eighth Grade, The Lighthouse, High Life, The Monster, Enemy, Climax, Room, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, The Disaster Artist, and Under the Silver Lake have all impressed in one for or another, all of them A24 offerings. This studio is f*cking amazing and i cannot sing it’s praises enough. They’ve been around for less than a decade, A24 was founded in August of 2012, and they’re brought this level of quality consistently. The Green Knight has all of the workings to slide right into my all-time list, just like Ex Machina and Hereditary did before it. Let’s see if i really love it as much as i think i will.

The Exceptional

The first thing that hits you is how f*cking gorgeous this film is. Seriously, i was immediately captivated by that opening scene with Gawain rushing for Mass. It definitely opens up as the film progresses and you are treated to one of the most visually striking films of the year. This movie could give Denis Villeneuve, Ari Aster, or Robert Eggers a run for their money. Seriously, you can frame several shots in a museum and no one would know the difference between that and the Van Gophs on display.

I r0aely mention this but it’s absolutely necessary that i do in this particular review because it was just that memorable. The sound design made this film. I’m not talking about music choice or score, but the actual sound effects for specific scenes. That sh*t was some of the tightest I've ever hear on a film and it really added to the overall experience. Just the way the Green Knight creaked and popped as he moved was more than enough to get this mention but there is so much ore than just that. I hate that i had to see this at home because, f*ck, this thing would have sounded like god in a proper theater.

I mentioned that you can frame these shots in a museum before and a lot of that shine belongs to the cinematography. The shots chosen for this film are breathtaking. I imagine a lot of that has to do with location but even the scenes filmed in dank castles and murky bogs popped with that same, meticulous, shot composition and it really gave those scenes life. The were ties when my jaw dropped at the majesty of a scene. The one with the giants immediately comes to mind. Like, f*ck, was that beautiful to witness.

In that same breath, you have to know when to pull back. Editing is just as important to a film as anything else and The Green Knight is cut with a precision I've rarely seen. This thing has no fat whatsoever. It presents to you exactly what you need and little else. I love that. I love that this film has a story to tell and it tells it with extreme prejudice. These cuts were made with intent. That’s rare nowadays.

I also have to give a nod to the use of color and lighting. Again, it’s not something i ever really focus on but goddamn is it necessary for this review. Light plays a very important role in how this story was told. Certain scenes absolutely need it and others are perfectly accentuated by it. It takes a deft hand to juggle such a nuanced aspect of film and The Green Knight has done that the best this year. So far.

This film has a very real, very potent, atmosphere. It’s not tension, not like Uncut Gems of Good Times, but there is this unrelenting sense of dread that runs through this entire film. It’s measured and restrained but it’s always there. I appreciate that. For a film to illicit such emotion out of me is testament to the mastery of it’s visionary.

All of the praise I've given to the technical aspects of this film would be for naught if i didn’t recognize the director, David Lowery. This dude is fast climbing the list of my favorite directors. I actually listed bunch above but, after seeing what he’s gone with this film, dude is really making a case for himself. He did the Pete’s Dragon remake which i hear as pretty good, and A Ghost Story but i haven’t seen either. Not really my cup of tea. But if they’re as good as The Green Knight, i might have to revisit that thought because, holy sh*t, this dude can direct the f*ck out of a film.

The writing is on point. I legit hesitated to put this on here because it is the weakest aspect of everything else in this film but that is misleading. The writing is exceptional. There is no way this film could be as good as it is, if the script was dog sh*t. The material given to these performers had to the top tier in order for them to give the performances they did and and they definitely f*cking did that!

This whole cast really f*cking delivered. Sarita Choudhury as Mother and Sean Harris as the King were easily the best of the supporting cast but everyone else brought that same energy. Joel Edgerton, Kate Dickie, and Barry Keoghan, all deliver powerful performances. Hell, this is the best I've ever seen Erin Kellyman act and i have to give a lot of credit to the overall quality of this cast delivered. That said, there are three individuals who put everyone else to shame and i say that knowing exactly how much praise i just heaped upon them all.

Alicia Vikander comes in and delivers on two roles, Essel and the Lady. This isn’t surprising at all because she always delivers. I’m never disappointed by her performances. Admittedly, i haven’t seen many but that’s because she is very particular about the characters she signs on to portray. That said, it’s weird the two performances she’s done that immediately jump out to me, are both with A24 films. Her Eva in Ex Machina, and that film in general, is what made me even take notice of both her and A24 as a studio. Here we are, seven years later, and she’s still blowing my mind. F*cking exceptional.

Ralph Ineson is almost unrecognizable in the Green Knight make-up but the second he opens his mouth, you immediately recognize that gravitas. There is a weight to this character and you f*cking feel it with every move Ineson makes. Dude isn’t in it much but the scenes he does appear in are absolutely stolen by this big, green, maestro of his craft.

More than anyone, this is Dev Patel’s film. This dude is a great actor but it’s rare someone gets a part where they can really bite into the content but that is not the case with this role. No, sir, this sh*t was tailor made for Patel and he definitely digs right the f*ck in. His Sir Gawain is just as good as his Jamal Malik from Slumdog, if not better. Seriously, this film would be nothing without Patel. As outstanding as every other aspect that i gushed about in this brilliant goddamn film, the very best is Dev Patel’s performance. Seriously, that sh*t, alone, is worth the watch.

The Verdict

The Green Knight is f*cking exceptional and exceeded all of my expectations. This year long wait was more than worth. It's the best film of the year so far, leap-frogging into my top twenty all-time and I've seen thousands of films. This thing is a masterpiece on all levels. Narrative, plot, lighting, performances, sound design, composition, editing, score; It's the closest thing to a technically perfect film I've seen in quite some time. If Dev Patel doesn't get an Oscar nod for this, there is no justice in the world because he f*cking carries this movie. Patel is easily the strongest force driving this incredibly compelling watch, but Alicia Vikander, Erin Kellyman, Sarita Choudhury, Ralph Ineson, Sean Harris, Kate Dickie, and Barry Keoghan all match that energy with f*cking gusto. I was absolutely mesmerized by the way these absolute masters in their craft, embodied and gave their respective characters life, particularly Vikander. She never disappoints.

The only issue I see that would hinder someone actually getting into this film is the fact that it's a little long in the tooth. You never really feel it, as long as you buy into the fact it's a character study and not a high concept fantasy film filled with dragons and sh*t. If you think Michael Bay and Zack Snyder are the pinnacle of cinematic excellence, pass on this. You won't make past the first tn minutes. Also, make better life choices. No, this is about Gawain and it never deviates from that core drive. Weird sh*t happens, sure, but it's nothing as fantastical as Smaug or a Balrog. Even so, this f*cking movie kept me glued to the edge of my seat. I loved every second of it and cannot sing it's praises enough. My only regret is that I didn't get to see it in a proper theater. This f*cker would have been a real experience to see on a proper cinema screen, especially that shot with the giants. The Green Knight is outstanding and deserves all of the praise it's gotten and so much more.

#Smokey brand Movie Reviews #The Green Knight

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years ago

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Pride and Fidget Spinners (M)

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the You’ll Never Shop Alone (YNSA) collaboration with @underthejoon and @suga-kookiemonster

Creative Content Contributor: @underthejoon, for this amazing banner

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (female receiving), dirty talk, big dick (it’s seokjin, duh), everyone in this fic is a brat, seokjin talks about fair lending

Genre: Rom-Com / Smut / Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 18,623

Summary: Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.

[ cross-posted to Wattpad here ]

I GET KNOCKED DOWN, BUT I GET UP AGAIN

YOU ARE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN

I GET KNO –

SLAP. Seokjin’s hand finds the buzzer, tuning off his alarm to burrow further under the covers. Sunlight streams through the open windows, pricking the back of his eyelids but Seokjin refuses to look. He can sleep for five more minutes. Five more minutes will not kill him.

Somewhere else in his apartment, a bedroom door slams. Wincing, Seokjin pulls his comforter higher. His roommate, Min Yoongi, spends most of his time annoyed with the world – but especially in the morning, and especially before having coffee. Loud banging continues, along with the sound of facial products hitting the sink. Groaning out loud, Seokjin pulls a pillow over his face.

Unfortunately, he is now awake and unable to slip back into his dream. It was a good one, too. Something about Iron Man and that hot barista at the mall Taehyung is crushing on. Squinting into his pillow, Seokjin abruptly sits up and tosses this on the floor.

“Fuck!” he yelps, throwing up a hand.

Every day, Seokjin somehow forgets to close his blinds before sleeping. Groping his way into the bathroom, Seokjin ruffles a hand through mussed morning hair. Turning on both taps in his shower, he waits for the water to warm and stares at himself in the mirror.

Clapping both hands to his face, Seokjin drags down the side of his cheeks. Getting older is weird.

Before he can get too hung up on this fact, Seokjin steps into the tub. “I GET KNOCKED DOWN,” he sings, lathering himself with soap. “BUT I GET UP AGAIN!”

Once out of the shower, dried and with a towel wrapped around his waist, Seokjin wanders into his closet. The sight dims his spirits a bit, seeing rows and rows of neatly pressed suits. Seokjin stares them each down in turn, knowing blinking is a weakness.

Reaching past them, he sighs.

The one at the front is navy, pin-striped and stares at him mockingly. Seokjin remembers wearing that one on his first day of work, nearly three years ago. He remembers how proud his parents were of him when he called them on his way home.

Seokjin’s heart sinks at the memory. That first phone call overlaps with another, less pleasant one. The one after his company decided to move their programming center out of his city. Seokjin was not one of the engineers selected to go. He was – rather unceremoniously – let go.

Let go. Seokjin snorts at the memory. Let go is such a nicer way to say fired. Fired has the ring of burnt smoke to it; it stinks of crumbling foundations and all hell breaking loose. If a company wants to yank one’s livelihood out from under them, Seokjin at least feels they should have the decency to call it what it is. Let go.

Shaking his head, Seokjin pushes past the suit to grab a white button-down. It has been nearly six months since that second call. Four months since his severance ran out and Seokjin realized he needed a job. Three months and three weeks since he began working at the Fidget Funk – even thinking the name makes Seokjin wince.

If someone had told him three years ago that he, Kim Seokjin, with his fancy degree and multiple years of experience, would ever be working a glorified mall job, Seokjin would have laughed in their face. He would have asked what they were smoking and if he could share – and yet. Here he is.

Frowning at himself in the mirror, Seokjin zips up his pants. Perhaps the worst part is that Seokjin was not upset when he was ‘let go.’ He was not actually disappointed by the firing, which disappointed his parents even more. When Bob and Karen from HR sat him down in that tiny, white room and handed him a tiny, white packet, Seokjin could not stop grinning.

His colleagues thought he had been kept when he left the room. That is how much Seokjin hated that company. His pure joy at finally leaving was enough to make up for the sucky way it happened.

Honestly, Seokjin was not surprised when he was fired. His entire last year he worked there, Seokjin spent most of his free time designing apps on his phone. No wonder they let him go, come to think of it. He was hardly their employee of the year.

Grabbing both wallet and keys, Seokjin shoves these into his pockets. Stepping into the hall, he glances at Yoongi’s room. “Yoongi!” he calls. No answer. “Hey! Min Yoongi!”

Continued silence, apart from the harsh thud of bass.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, Seokjin tries again. “MIN YOONGI!”

The door at the end of the hall opens, hitting the wall. “What?” With a yawn, Yoongi drags a hand through his hair. Bleached blond strands fall about his face. “You said 10:00 AM. It’s 10:01.”

“Right.” Seokjin looks at him pointedly. “But I need to have the kiosk set up by 10:30, or else Bertha gets pissed.”

Yoongi walks past him and frowns. “Who’s Bertha? I don’t remember you working with anyone named Bertha.”

“I don’t.” Seokjin shrugs. Today is one of the rare days their work schedules lined up and – amazingly enough – Yoongi agreed to carpool. “Bertha is the name of my fidget spinner display. She’s temperamental.”

Yoongi groans, shutting the door. “Dude, you need to get a hobby.”

“I do have a hobby!”

“Then, get a girlfriend,” says Yoongi, sliding his keys from the lock. “You have way too much free time on your hands.”

“Do not,” Seokjin mutters, shoving both hands in his pockets as they walk to his car. “I’m working on loads of stuff.”

“Oh, really?” Yoongi flips his phone. “Which amazing app is it today? Let me guess. The one which meows every time a cat comes near? Or, the one which ranks all the apps in your phone from most to least used? Or, maybe –”

“Hey!” Cutting him off, Seokjin pulls open his car door. “You left out Alliterate! The handy app which suggests words which start with the same letter as yours – for casual alliteration.”

Yoongi stares over the roof of his car. “Dude, who would buy that?”

“English majors. Dramatic teenagers writing letters in the eighteenth century.”

“Seokjin.” Yoongi slides into the passenger seat. “You don’t give a fuck about any of these ideas, and therein lies your problem.”

“Oh, really?” Seokjin sticks his keys into the ignition. The car is sweltering, baking from having been left in the sun all morning. “Unlike you and your SoundCloud rapping?”

“Exactly unlike me and my SoundCloud rapping.” Grinning, Yoongi buckles his seatbelt and looks over at Seokjin. “Speaking of which – I have a new track to play.”

“No.”

Turning on the engine, Seokjin winces when a red warning light appears. He apparently needs an oil change soon but – with what money?

“Yes.” Yoongi reaches out, already hooking up his phone. “Just these two hooks, okay? Tell me which one you like more.”

Twelve minutes later, Seokjin pulls into his unofficial parking spot at the mall. “Will you look at that?” he says, turning off the engine. “We’re here! Time to go sell those fidgets!”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes open the door. Shoving his white Auntie Anne’s visor further up on his head, he glances around. “You’ll be sorry,” he says, slamming the door. “You’ll all be sorry!” Yoongi yells at the empty parking lot.

Patting him once on the back, Seokjin walks inside. “You know that I like your music.” Seokjin shivers when they both hit the AC. “More than like it, in fact. You’re too good and you know it – your head is inflated, and I have to take you down a peg.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, because all this pretzel rolling is inflating my ego. I’m basically Kanye, pre-Kim. Or Kanye, post-Kim. Say what you will about the guy, he’s remarkably consistent about how good he thinks he is.”

Snorting, Seokjin quiets when they pass by Kay Jewelers. Both men swerve to avoid eye contact, since they never know when what’s-her-name will be working. Seokjin makes a face. He always forgets her name, but the Kay Jewelers girl is usually after the dick of someone in the mall. Both he and Yoongi have been on the receiving end of that hunt before.

“Alright.” Coming to a stop at his kiosk, Seokjin lowers his gym bag to the ground. “Here is where I bid thee adieu.”

Yoongi continues walking. “Bye.”

“BYE, BEST FRIEND!” Seokjin yells, waving as Yoongi crosses the food court.

Several heads turn, and Seokjin continues waving until his roommate is gone. Grinning, Seokjin returns to his kiosk. Unlocking the metal grating, he pulls this up to reveal a brightly colored display. The morning routine is standard. Inventory, balancing the register, ensuring all displays are functional. Each time he passes the front, Seokjin sees his name on the register.

The kiosk’s top salesman, three months in a row.

It might seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but Seokjin is at a point in his life where everything has gone wrong. Everything he does seems to become a failure and even though he hates this job and hates these fidget spinners (okay, that’s harsh – no one hates fidget spinners), at least he can succeed at this one, small thing.

Selling shit to people they absolutely do not need.

Leaning against the counter, Seokjin crosses an ankle to wait. The mall opens on weekdays at 11:00 AM, prompt. Some places are open earlier – like Java Joe’s, the coffee shop, and maybe the gym – but Seokjin’s kiosk is standard mall hours. Rubbing his eyes, Seokjin glances longingly in the direction of Java Joe’s, but there are only five minutes until the mall opens. He needs to remain where he is.

Pulling his phone from his jacket, he shoots off a quick text.

Seokjin: yo [10:55 AM]

It takes a moment for Namjoon to respond.

Namjoon: what do you want? [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: nothing!!! [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: … [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: ok fine [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: I’ll come clean [10:56 AM]

Seokjin: are you doing the morning shift at T-Mobile [10:56 AM]

Namjoon: …. Yes [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: why? [10:57 AM]

Seokjin: do u think… on ur next break… u could bring me some coffee?? [10:57 AM]

Namjoon: get it yourself [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: pleaseeee Joon?? I never ask you for anything! [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: Chad called in sick, so I’m here all alone : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: sigh. Fine – can you hang on until 1? [10:58 AM]

Seokjin: : ( [10:58 AM]

Namjoon: ur the worst but fine, I’ll try to get away sooner [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: THANKS JOON [10:59 AM]

Seokjin: grande iced Americano, no milk [10:59 AM]

Namjoon: u wouldn’t treat Yoongi like this [10:59 AM]

Seokjin snorts, shoving his phone in his pocket. He absolutely would treat Yoongi like this – problem is, Yoongi rarely responds. He usually spends his work breaks engrossed in his music. If anything, Seokjin is the one who brings coffee to him.

The first two hours pass by at a glacial pace. Seokjin regularly looks at his watch, wondering why the day is moving so slowly. True, it is a weekday but there is usually steady traffic. Stay at home parents and high school kids with nothing better to do than spend their summers at the mall, drinking Orange Julius’ next to the fountain.

It took Seokjin two months to convince his boss to put in for this spot. Next to the fountain is prime mall real estate, since you need to pass by it in order to reach anywhere else. Which is why it is strange that Seokjin has had zero customers.

He is still frowning when Namjoon appears at his workplace, iced coffee in hand. Namjoon wears his T-Mobile manager uniform, complete with a badge which declares his name and title. Kim Namjoon, Assistant Manager.

“Two?” Seokjin fake gasps, holding out a hand. “All for me?”

“Nope.” Namjoon only gives one to him. “One is for me.”

“Rude.” Seokjin sniffs, turning to survey the mall.

“What is? The fact that I brought you coffee?”

“Sure.”

Namjoon laughs. “What’s up with you today? You seem super distracted.”

Squinting at the fountain, Seokjin shakes his head. “I don’t know. Things have been so quiet today. Is there something going on? A deal at Woodbury mall, or something?”

“Hm.” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “Not that I know of, I – oh, wait.” He straightens, glancing across the food court. “When I was walking over here, I did see a new kiosk. Maybe they’re taking some of your customers?”

“A new kiosk?” Seokjin looks up in alarm. “Where?”

“There.” Namjoon points behind a browning, potted plant.

Seokjin peers in the direction Namjoon is pointing. In his line of vision stands a brand-spanking-new kiosk. The sides are all pristine, gleaming and white, with the kind of bright-colored accents designed to draw people in. Neat boxes of toys line the shelves, almost as pretty as Seokjin’s own display.

Groaning, Seokjin sinks to his kiosk. “Drones?” He glances at Namjoon. “How are fidget spinners supposed to compete with fucking drones?”

“Dunno.” Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee. “I first saw them this morning, but they’re getting pretty good business. Nearly tripped over their salesgirl on my way here. She’s cute,” he adds, glancing at Seokjin.

Seokjin glowers. “Cuter than me?”

“Maybe.” Namjoon shrugs.

“Impossible.” Seokjin glares in the direction of the kiosk. On one side, he can barely make out the shape of a worker and based on what he sees, Seokjin begrudgingly thinks Namjoon might be right. You could be cute.

Namjoon drains the rest of his cup. “Well. Gotta go,” he says cheerfully, clapping Seokjin on the back. “Breaks don’t last forever. Hope the rest of your day picks up.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters. “Hope so, too.”

Namjoon leaves, returning the same way he came towards the T-Mobile store. Seokjin continues to glance at the competing kiosk, staring with envy at its remote-controlled helicopters.

Up until now, the competitive landscape at the mall has been easy. There is a guy on the second floor selling Proactive but other than that, Seokjin has never had real competition. Until now, it would seem.

Rather than be turned off by this fact, Seokjin tilts his head. The only reason he lasted as long as he did at his prior company is because of how competitive he is. Even if Seokjin does not care about the product, he still works tirelessly to be called number one. He should stop by and check out the competition – just to be certain there is no real risk.

Seokjin’s phone buzzes, revealing a text from his boss. Lisa will be here at 5:00 PM, meaning Seokjin only must hold out a few hours before he can see the new kiosk.

Only a few more hours until he knows what he is up against.

Lisa’s arrival at five means Seokjin is afforded a half-hour break. He uses this to grab food, bothering Yoongi at Auntie Anne’s before moving on. Dinnertime at the mall is typically crowded and Yoongi tends to throw mustard if Seokjin overstays his welcome.

Not wanting to ruin his button-down, Seokjin wanders in the direction of your kiosk. He eyes this as he approaches, finding the reality of the situation to be worse than he feared. The drones you stock are cool and what is more – they are all beautifully displayed. The stand might even rival Bertha.

Crossing both arms over his chest, Seokjin examines the kiosk. The products are neat, all of them aligned in carefully placed rows. The fingers on his right hand twitch, really wanting to touch the remote- controlled helicopters, but before he can move –

“Can I help you?” you ask, bright and cheerful. Seokjin flinches, gaze darting to you.

Fuck – seeing you up close, Seokjin’s jaw nearly hits the ground. You are gorgeous. There is no other word for it. The smile you give is infections; it makes him want to smile back. More than that – Seokjin finds himself wanting to be the reason for that smile, but no! Straightening his spine, Seokjin reminds himself that you are the competition.

Looking at you, his scowl deepens.

Your own smile falters. “Did you want me to take that one out?” you ask, pointing at the drone. “Show you how it works?”

Seokjin shrugs, as though he could not care less. “I’m not here to buy, actually.”

Now, it is your turn to look confused. “I – uh, okay.” You squint. “Then, why are you here?”

Seokjin realizes how creepy he sounds. In your eyes, he has wandered over, stared at your merchandise for a prolonged period of time and then announced he was not here to buy. A grade-A creep rivaled only by that one flasher who lurks in female footwear.

“Uh…” Backtracking, Seokjin jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at that kiosk, actually. I’m Seokjin.”

Unimpressed, you glance in this direction. “Y/N. And – uh, okay?”

“I stopped by to say hello. And to see what you’re selling.”

As he speaks, you read the name of his kiosk. Your upper lip twitches as slowly, you return to looking at him. Seokjin is unnerved by your smile. For some reason, he has the sinking suspicion he is the butt of your joke.

“Oh,” you say, tone entirely different. “That kiosk. Brandi mentioned you.”

“Brandi?”

“My boss.” You wave towards the middle-aged woman on the other side of the kiosk. Seokjin thinks he has seen her around before. “She said you’ve been selling pretty well the past couple of months. Great job.”

Seokjin tries not to seem smug – there is an undercurrent to your tone which screams subterfuge. “I mean, yeah,” he says carefully. “Things are going pretty well for us.”

“Strange, then.”

“What is?”

“Strange that we’re doing so much better than you.”

Someone could scrape Seokjin’s jaw off the dirty, child-scuffed floor. You smirk at him, tapping two fingers against the pretty, floral sleeve of your tunic. If Seokjin did not know better, he would think you were flirting with him.

Except you just fucking insulted him.

“I…” Shaking his head, Seokjin’s voice is strangled. “Mall traffic has been slow this morning. No big deal. I guess once you’ve been around longer, you’ll know that.”

“Hm.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know – things have been pretty crazy for us today. We already ran out of a product. Wild, right?”

Seokjin’s mouth dries, his ears starting to buzz – all evidence of his pure hatred of you. Obviously. It could not be anything else.

“You ran… out of something? Already?”

Seokjin’s voice squeaks on the last word, making him cringe.

“Not bad, huh? Although, I guess once we’ve ‘been around longer,’” you mock with a grin, “we’ll get more lulls. Must be nice.”

In the face of his clear disbelief, you have the nerve to wink.

Seokjin begins to see red. “Yeah,” he croaks, recovering himself. “Beginner’s luck is nice, too.”

Your smile disappears. “How long is your break? I don’t think my kiosk could afford to have me gone for so long.”

Not looking away, Seokjin shoves the rest of his pretzel in his mouth. Chewing exaggeratedly, he watches you wince. “Sorry,” he mumbles around cinnamon-sugar bread. “Thanks for the reminder. I do need to be getting back. Can’t have my kiosk without its top salesman.”

Nose wrinkled; you continue to stare. “If that’s your idea of finesse, I think they can manage without you.”

“Please.” Seokjin gives you a pointed look. “I’m literally dripping with finesse.”

Your lips twitch, suppressing the gesture. Seokjin is impressed by your stoicism, since he knows he is a good-looking guy. That much is a non-debatable fact. Even if it were not, he can see by the way your gaze lingers, that you like what you see. And still – when your gaze returns to his face, your expression is artfully composed.

Fuck, Seokjin realizes. You really are going to be competition.

“Is that all?” Blithely, you turn. “Did you just stop by to see how much better we’re doing?”

Seokjin scowls at your arguably perfect behind. “I came to see how much product you have left, yeah.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you grin. “Why? Worried we’ll sell out before you can buy?”

“No.” Undercutting his conviction, Seokjin glances again at the helicopter. “I’ve got my hands full, thanks.”

“Ri-ght.” You draw out the word. “Then, you should probably get back to the, uh – Fidget Funk.”

Seokjin’s ears turn red with embarrassment. “I will,” he blurts, spinning around on his heel. “You have fun at the Drone Dome – fuck,” he mutters, coming to a stop. “That’s actually such a cool name.”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks away. All the way across the food court, your laughter rings out behind him. Upon reaching his kiosk, Seokjin glances over his shoulder. You are not paying attention to him, already engaged with another customer and Seokjin’s stomach slowly sinks.

He might be in trouble – and in more ways than one.

Seokjin arrives the next day ready for battle.

Before, he was unprepared – caught off guard by your wily ways, but no longer! He is Kim Seokjin, crusader of goals and defender of the kiosk. The fact that Seokjin does not care about fidget spinners does not matter. They are his unfortunate chosen weapon and so, he will die upon this metaphorical sword.

Leaning against his kiosk, Seokjin spins a toy in one hand. Smiling and nodding at everyone who passes, he tries not to seem creepy or make eye contact for too long. This is the number one rule of kiosk sales – be deliberate, but approachable.

Most kiosk salespeople fail here, never ascending past the first stage of selling. They leer at shoppers, approaching women with earbuds in, or spraying perfume without asking. Not Seokjin. Seokjin is the very image of class, one ankle crossed over the other.

Seated at the food court is a large group of collegiate girls. At least, Seokjin assumes this based off one girl’s University sweatshirt. They sit clustered around Starbucks drinks (a slap in the face to Java Joe’s!), giggling every so often and glancing at Seokjin. Despite knowing they see him, Seokjin pretends not to care. Every so often, he pushes a hand through his hair and angles himself in the light.

Eventually, he knows one will come over and when they do, Seokjin will whip out the charm. A shadow steps into his path, blocking the sunlight.

Seokjin frowns. “Get out of the way,” he says, bored. “I almost have a sale.”

Arms crossed; you glance over a shoulder. The group of girls glare at you, clearly perturbed at having their view interrupted.

Snorting, you return to Seokjin. “Oh, please. So, what – you’re a pedophile, in addition to creep?”

Jerking upright, Seokjin scowls. “I am not a pedophile. I’m just trying to make a sale.”

“Of what kind?” you ask pleasantly.

“Fidget spinners.”

“Hm. Could’ve fooled me.”

Shrugging, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seokjin tries not to linger on the way your lips wrap around the straw.

I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says stiffly. “Now, move. You’re blocking my light.”

“Whatever,” you yawn, leaving. As you enter the food court, you give Seokjin an excellent view of your backside walking away. “We’ll still beat your sales target today, anyways!” you call back.

Glaring at your retreating head, Seokjin holds out for as long as he can before dropping his gaze to your ass. Waggling fingers over your shoulder, you disappear behind the potted plant. The college girls resume looking at him but now, Seokjin finds he does not care.

Really, he should be thanking you. As soon as you are gone, three of the girls wander up to his kiosk. Seokjin sells five fidget spinners in one hour, thanks to the jealousy your presence provoked. Rather than be pleased by this fact though, Seokjin becomes even more agitated. He does not like feeling in your debt.

The next time your shifts overlap, determined to get even, Seokjin switches tactics. He parks on the opposite end of the mall, necessitating he should walk by your kiosk. Yoongi complains about this, but Seokjin merely ignores him.

Slowing as he passes your kiosk, Seokjin waits for you to look up.

Both elbows leaned to the counter, you scroll casually through your phone. When your gaze flicks up, taking him in – you blink.

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

Waving to Yoongi, Seokjin veers in your direction. “Oh, hey!” He stops at your display, nonchalantly stretching his arms overhead. “Having a good morning?”

Gaze darting to his pants and back up, you almost seem flustered. “I – how tight are those jeans?”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What, these old things?”

Turning around, Seokjin checks out his own ass, as though surprised by its appearance. He is rather proud of his legs, actually. There is a reason Seokjin spends so much time in the gym with Jungkook. His newly bought skinny jeans show off his best assets. Not to mention how satisfying it is to see you rendered speechless.

Your gaze returns to his, smoldering. “There’s a tag still in the pocket, genius.”

“Oh.” Grandly, Seokjin plucks this off – fuck, that just cost him an entire week of spending allowance. “Well, there you go. Wouldn’t want to distract from the view.”

Jaw clenched, you seem as though you want to say more, but hold yourself back. “Great.”

Seokjin smirks. “Isn’t it?”

Whirling around, you pretend to be busy but Seokjin can tell your register has already been counted.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your kiosk?” You glower, glancing over your shoulder. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time standing here.”

Seokjin’s grin broadens. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’d be a shame. See you around, Y/N!”

Happily, he turns and walks back the food court. With each step his grin widens, imagining you watching him leave. The rest of his day is spent in lazy self-satisfaction.

As it turns out, Seokjin should have been warier. Your silence was not acceptance of defeat, but a determined self-call to arms. The very next day, Seokjin walks past your kiosk and nearly spills his drink down his shirt.

You stand off to the side, bent to display a generous amount of cleavage. Seokjin’s jaw drops, unable to look away. He realizes how inappropriate he is being when you look up and see him.

“Seokjin!” Straightening, you wave.

The action makes your breasts bounce, causing Seokjin’s pants to feel tighter.

Yoongi snorts at his side. “Good luck, man,” he says, patting Seokjin once on the back before walking away.

Seokjin is left alone, facing the wiles of his enemy.

“Hey,” you say, raising both brows. “Seokjin? Are you okay?”

Forcing himself to move, Seokjin walks robotically forward. He does not allow himself to look below your collarbone – fuck, you must be wearing a push-up bra. There is no other way a single day could cause such a dramatic transformation.

Unable to help himself, Seokjin sneaks another peek.

When he looks up, you are smirking at him. “See something you like?”

The tips of Seokjin’s ears turn crimson. “I – what?”

“The merchandise,” you say sweetly, waving a hand. “We just got in a few new toys over the weekend.”

Seokjin has no response to this, having momentarily forgotten what words are.

Your lips twitch. “Is something wrong, Seokjin?”

Seeing the teasing look in your eyes, Seokjin fumes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, jaw snapping shut. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Lots of… fidgets to spin.”

Turning around, he dramatically walks off.

He cannot help but feel oddly unsettled, throat burning in a way which does not make sense. Anger, he tells himself. The emotion is merely annoyance. It is completely natural he would hate his competitor. Natural, for him to think about what their lips would look like shut up by his.

It takes two weeks for Seokjin to enact the next phase of his plan. Which is – dramatic entertainment. Basically, phase two involves Seokjin researching fidget spinner hand tricks for hours at a time on YouTube. It reaches to the point where Seokjin is in near hibernation. Jungkook sends him texts every so often, asking when he will return to the gym, but Seokjin is a man on a mission and cannot be stopped.

He starts off slowly, learning the simple fidget spinner hand transfer. Next is the hand twist, rated Difficulty Level Two by the most known YouTube star. From there, learning the around the back is easy. This maneuver is more complex – it involves Seokjin physically throwing the fidget spinner over his shoulder to catch in the other hand.

Once Seokjin can control two fidget spinners at once, he deems himself ready.

Phase two goes into action on a busy Saturday afternoon. Seokjin hijacks the Fidget Funk’s speakers, hooking up his iPhone to the horror of his co-worker, Lisa.

“Oh, no,” she groans. “Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Are you thinking I’m doing a fidget spinner trick show?” Seokjin adjusts the sweatband on his forehead. “Alright, then. I won’t tell you.”

“God, how embarrassing.” Lisa slumps low in her chair. “Well, at least do it before Chad gets here.”

“Noted. What song should I use?” Seokjin flips through his playlist. “Hero by Enrique Iglesias? Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo? The Cha Cha Slide?”

Lisa stares in disbelief. “What vibe are you going for, exactly?”

“None of those?” Seokjin frowns. “What about All Star by Smash Mouth?”

“How about Cotton Eyed Joe?” Lisa offers. “That seems more fitting with all of… this.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Seokjin selects a song to press play. The first notes of Everybody by Backstreet Boys plays through the speakers. Lisa groans and slumps even lower.

At first, no one notices Seokjin at all. People sidestep him, focused solely on getting to the food court but then, Seokjin executes a perfect shoulder throw. A kid stops to watch. His mom stops too, trying to drag her kid forward but failing in her mission.

“Hey!” Seokjin beams, switching the spinner from one hand to the other. “Want to see more?”

The boy nods and before long, Seokjin has managed to gather a small crowd. Over the ooh’s and ahs of children, Seokjin converses with their moms.

“Fidget spinners are proven to help concentration in both kids and adults,” Seokjin says with a hand twist. “One of my friends was telling me a story the other day. He and this AVP at his office are both tactile people and remember better while doing something with their hands. So, they end up having this entire meeting while playing with fidget spinners from her office.”

The moms all laugh, moving forward to let their kids pick out a toy. By the time the day ends, Seokjin has beaten all previous sales records. He has also managed to capture the attention of most people in the mall – including you.

And Namjoon, who stops by before closing.

“Dude,” Namjoon laughs, leaning one arm to his kiosk. “Why are you being so extra lately? It’s just a temp job. Who cares?”

“I care, Namjoon.” Seokjin bristles. “Is it so wrong to want to do well at my work? To want to improve the sales of my peers. Frankly, Namjoon, I’m insulted you would –”

“Hey, Kim!” you yell, passing by. “Heard you’re trying to break into show business!”

Seokjin abruptly stops talking. “Trying?” he calls back. “I’m already there. Were you able to catch a performance?”

Rolling your eyes, you walk backwards. “Of course, I did! The whole fucking mall saw you, Seokjin. Your music was so loud, people physically moved in the food court.”

Seokjin’s grin widens. “What’d you think?”

“I think you should stick to sales.” Shaking your head, you try not to smile. “Anyways, just wait until you see what we’re doing this weekend. It’ll make your lame tricks look like nothing!”

“Can’t wait!” Seokjin cups both hands over his mouth. “I love to watch lofty dreams come crashing down!”

Shaking your head, you turn around and disappear into the mall. Once you are gone, Seokjin returns to Namjoon.

“What?” he blinks, seeing his friend’s smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile widens. “Oh, nothing.”

“What?”

Namjoon merely laughs, grabbing his smoothie and turning away. “Good luck with that, man!”

Seokjin stares after, not understanding but deciding it is not worth his while. Namjoon always thinks he knows so much – granted, he usually does, but that is not the point. The point is Seokjin does not and so, he should not worry about it now.

The next day is busy, which means Seokjin barely has time to consider the performance you mentioned. He is again covering for Lisa, who failed to show up. Chad and Seokjin are the only ones covering the kiosk, which Seokjin despises because Chad is his least favorite co-worker. Lisa may be flaky, but at least her presence is tolerable. Chad is always going off on tangents about who wronged him on Twitter that day, and why.

Chad is also terrible at customer service – no surprise – which means Seokjin must handle all returns and exchanges. A tedious task in itself, let alone with Chad’s monotonous voice in his ears. In fact, the morning is so busy, Seokjin barely remembers to eat, let alone visit you.

It is the sound of cheers over the food court which make him look up.

Midway through a transaction, Seokjin pauses to glance at your kiosk. You and your Manager – Brandi – stand before it, navigating two competing drones in the air. It seems several people are betting on which drone will win.

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin returns to his customer. Smiling blandly, he hands the woman her money and ignores the wild cheers growing steadily behind him. It makes Seokjin’s teeth grind, realizing you might be drawing a bigger crowd than he did.

Unable to stop himself, he peers over his shoulder. Seokjin’s eyes widen. Above the food court, a helicopter loops circles around a remote-controlled plane. They no longer seem to be racing, dive- bombing the crowd and swooping up at the last second. Kids squeal in excitement, running around underneath.

Seokjin scowls, slamming shut the register. His mind revolts at the knowledge that your show is better than his – also, there is the maddening fact that Seokjin wants a drone for himself. Huffing under his breath, Seokjin turns away.

Before he can tell Chad he is going on break, a scream pierces the crowd.

“MOVE!” Seokjin hears your voice above the rest. “KIDS, MOVE!”

Seokjin whirls around, spotting the helicopter spinning out of control. Kids duck from its path, their hands held overhead as the helicopter sputters, dips and sputters again. Steam curls from its top, clearly not responding to the remote you hold in one hand.

Worse than that, the drone is headed in their direction.

“Chad, move!” Seokjin yells, diving out of the way.

Chad looks up just in time to see the helicopter crash into their kiosk.

Fidget spinners fly every which way. From his spot on the floor, several hit Seokjin in the back of his legs – he winces, curling into himself. Chad’s sputtering continues above as the slow whir of helicopter blades begins to wind down.

Seokjin hesitantly looks up. The kiosk above him is chaos. Nothing seems to be broken, but his carefully placed display – Bertha! – is entirely out of whack. Brightly colored boxes lie on the floor, shelving hanging precariously off the sides of the kiosk.

You dash into view, skidding to a stop inches away from his nose. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, a useless remote held in one hand. “I don’t know what happened, I swear.”

Your gaze darts to Seokjin’s, still lying prostrate on the floor.

He slowly pushes himself to stand, staring in shock at the disastrous kiosk. Seokjin expects to feel angry. He should feel pissed, since all his hard work was erased and now, he will have to spend several hours cleaning it up, but – nothing.

Well, that is not entirely true.

Seokjin wishes he could wipe that look of distress from your face. “It’s alright,” he says, still looking at you.

Surprise flickers over your expression.

Chad steps out from behind the kiosk. “Oh… my… god,” he says, eyes wide.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, face twisted in agony.

Before you can continue, your manager appears. “Go back to the kiosk, Y/N,” she says, sighing. “There are a bunch of customers to take care of. I’ll handle this.”

It appears you wish to say more, but a stern look from Brandi is silencing. Giving Seokjin an apologetic look, you turn on your heel to walk across the food court.

Brandi waits until you are out of earshot before looking at Seokjin. “I’m sorry about the disruption,” she offers.

Seokjin tears his gaze away. “It’s okay.”

“What?!” Chad stomps out to point a finger at Brandi. “It is not okay! You and your dumb drones wrecked our display!”

Brandi looks at his finger, unimpressed. She glances at Seokjin. “You can throw that helicopter away. If anything of yours has been damaged, let me know. We’ll pay for it – just send me an itemized receipt by the end of the day, okay?”

Seokjin nods, a bit thrown by the interaction. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

Brandi looks at him thankfully, turning around to return to her kiosk. Once she is gone, Chad whirls on Seokjin.

“Man, what the fuck?”

Bending, Seokjin picks up a lone fidget spinner. “What do you mean, what the fuck?”

“They should’ve…” Chad trails off, shaking his head. “Done more. I don’t know. They should’ve cleaned up the whole area, or something!”

Seokjin snorts, replacing the toy on the counter. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not like anything is seriously damaged. We just need to re-stock the display and besides, they don’t know how to do that. It’ll be faster if we do it.”

“Even so,” Chad mutters. He begins cleaning up, casting an angry glance in the direction of the Drone Dome. “They should still fucking pay.”

“They will, if anything’s broken,” Seokjin says simply.

He then tunes Chad out, putting himself to work. Re-stocking Bertha takes a while but, in the end, Seokjin is happier with its order. He keeps thinking you will stop by after your shift, but you do not. Perhaps you are too embarrassed to do so, or maybe Brandi warned you not to go near them again.

Whatever the reason, Seokjin cannot leave before closing. When he finally passes kiosk on his way to the gym, everything is closed, and you are nowhere in sight.

Seokjin lingers a moment before he moves on.

SLAM.

Seokjin drops his barbells, the sound echoing through the gym in a satisfying way. Several women on the elliptical look up in annoyance.

“Sorry!” Seokjin calls, wiping sweat from his neck.

Although the women continue to glare, they return to their workout. Jungkook snickers into the sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging beneath the tight fit of his clothes. Pulling a power bar from his pocket, Jungkook waves at the weights Seokjin discarded.

“Give me ten more.”

Seokjin glares. “Go choke.”

“Can’t.” Unwrapping his snack, Jungkook takes a large bite. “Told my current hook-up that was just for her.”

“Gross.” Seokjin groans, bending to grab the weights. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Jungkook grins, displaying chocolate and teeth. “Ten more,” he repeats.

Despite several muttered curse words under his breath, Seokjin obeys. Dropping the weights again on the floor – in direct defiance of the no weight-dropping sign – Seokjin grabs his knees with both hands.

“Alright,” he huffs, squinting at Jungkook. “I don’t care anymore if I’m in shape. I care more about snacks. Snacks and alcohol.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that.” Jungkook takes another bite. “I’m using one of my free guest passes on you, so you better be worth it.”

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin takes a long swig from his water bottle. Despite this, he still follows Jungkook as they walk to the treadmills. Jungkook is right, he is doing Seokjin a favor by letting him work out for free. Truth be told, Seokjin hated Jungkook when he first began at the mall. Jungkook was young, good- looking and got tons of attention – male and female, alike.

He was the competition.

Over time though, this distrust dissolved and somehow, Jungkook is now one of Seokjin’s closest friends. When he is not annoying the hell out of him, that is.

Throwing his wrapper in the trash, Jungkook wipes both palms on his pants. “So.” Stepping onto a treadmill, he turns the speed to three. “How’s it going with drone girl?”

Seokjin follows suit. “She knocked over my display today.”

“Like, on purpose?”

“Nah.” Seokjin shakes his head. “On accident. She was doing a demo and one of the helicopter drones broke. Crashed into my kiosk.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s brow furrows. “Still – annoying. Increase your speed.”

Seokjin obeys. “Eh,” he huffs, beginning to jog. “I don’t think it was on purpose. But still, she’s just so frustrating.”

“What’s frustrating? Increase your speed again to four.”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin says, following suit. “She’s frustrating. She has this way of looking at me, you know?”

“Looking at you in like, a creepy way?”

“No…” Seokjin’s feet pound the treadmill. “She’s a tease.”

“Sounds hot.”

“She keeps messing with me.”

“You keep messing with her.”

“She made fun of my fidget spinners!”

Jungkook bursts into laughter. To add insult to injury, he barely seems winded at all by their run and Seokjin is panting.

“Dude. Fidget spinners suck. I’ve heard you say that on multiple occasions.”

“Sure, but she doesn’t have to say that!”

“Whatever, bro.” Jungkook grins. “Sounds to me like you want to fuck her.”

Seokjin is so startled, he nearly trips on the treadmill. “I do not.”

“No judgement here! Do it once, get it out of your system.”

“I don’t want to fuck her, Jungkook.” Seokjin glares in his direction. “She hates me. And I hate her!”

“O-h,” Jungkook says knowingly. “So, you’re in love with her. I get it. Increase your speed to five.”

Seokjin obeys, face turning beet-red. “Jungkook,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Reaching out, Seokjin turns the speed on Jungkook’s treadmill to eight.

“Hey!” Jungkook yelps, breaking into a sprint. He manages to keep up, pushing a hand through his hair. When Seokjin rolls his eyes, Jungkook grins. “Nailed it.”

Seokjin returns to his machine. “Besides, you’re one to talk,” he mutters. “Aren’t you in love with the juice girl, or something?”

On reflex, Jungkook glances over his shoulder. Seokjin can tell by his lovesick expression he is right. Juice girl only started working recently at the gym and from what Seokjin can tell, Jungkook is entirely smitten. He has never been subtle about the women he likes, but with juice girl, Jungkook seems to have met his match.

She is completely immune to his charms. Seokjin cannot help but feel sympathy for the guy. Or – at least, he does until Jungkook returns to him with a grin.

“So.” He wriggles his eyebrows. “How hot is kiosk girl, anyways?”

“No.” Seokjin reaches out to increase Jungkook’s incline. “You’re not going to fuck my mortal enemy.”

“Well, if you’re not going to.”

“Think about juice girl!” Seokjin yells – entirely unintentional, but he is running out of breath.

Jungkook retaliates by upping his speed. By the end of their sprint, Seokjin feels like collapsing. He steps off his treadmill with wobbly legs, feeling as though he has just run a marathon. Not that Seokjin would ever run a marathon, of course, but he can imagine. Jungkook follows suit, hopping down from his machine.

“Good workout.” Jungkook wipes his forehead with a towel. “Wanna come over and hang? Hoseok from Foot Locker is gonna come, too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Yeah, okay.” He glances again at the door, but your kiosk is too far to see. “Sounds good to me.”

As they walk towards the locker rooms, Jungkook chatters aimlessly but Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you. While he showers and changes, Jungkook’s words replay in his mind. The idea of Seokjin having a crush on you is insane. The two of you have barely exchanged one nice word since you met.

Still. Snapping a towel free from his neck, Seokjin continues to wonder. He does think about you an awful lot. Usually, he is thinking of new ways to annoy you, but that is more than he thinks about anyone else. Chad, for instance – or Lisa.

Frowning, Seokjin slams shut his locker. He cannot ignore the initial attraction he had for you. If you had not been his competition, Seokjin would have probably asked you out.

The moment he thinks this, he freezes. Maybe this is why you annoy him so much – Seokjin is attracted to you and can do nothing about it.

Under any other set of circumstances, this fact would be enlightening but things being what they are though, nothing has changed. You still hate him. Seokjin still finds you his competition.

Staring at his locker, Seokjin’s lips twist.

“Seokjin!” Jungkook yells from the door. “You coming, or what?”

Jerking himself free from his thoughts, Seokjin picks up his bag. “Coming!” he yells, pushing you from his mind.

Seokjin has the next two days off work. He uses this mainly to work on his apps, pouring time and energy into working the kinks from his latest round of updates. In between each stroke of his keyboard, he is thinking of you.

Seokjin hates Jungkook a little, for pointing out the obvious fact that he likes you. Before that, Seokjin took his fixation with you at face value. He did not like you; he was just annoyed by you. Now, though.

He cannot help but wonder.

Exhaling loudly, Seokjin slumps against his kiosk. His manager is off once again – honestly, that dude never works – and Seokjin is stuck working with Chad. Absently, Seokjin twirls a spinner around his finger.

“You okay, man?” Chad breaks the silence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin stares into space. “Oh, yeah. Just a bit preoccupied, that’s all.”

“With what?”

Seokjin shrugs, not feeling like talking.

Chad is one of the few people capable of getting under his skin without saying a word. It is something about the way Chad stands – chest puffed, gaze lazy, as though the world owes him something. He always wears a backwards cap, even inside and Seokjin suspects a receding hairline to be the cause. Whatever the reason, Chad always has a chip on his shoulder.

He seems to be compensating for something. Although what he could be compensating for, as a white male in today’s economy, Seokjin has no idea.

“Hey.” Voice lowering, Chad nods towards the food court. “I know something which might cheer you up.”

Seokjin straightens when he realizes Chad is staring at you. Anything which cheers Chad up could only have the opposite effect upon Seokjin.

“What?” Seokjin asks, suspicious.

Chad leans in. “You know the bitch who ruined our display a few days ago?”

Seokjin’s jaw tightens, hearing you called a bitch. “What about it?”

“Ha.” Chad laughs, not hearing the clear warning in Seokjin’s tone. “Don’t worry about paying her back. I got this.”

Alarm bells go off in Seokjin’s mind. “What do you mean by, ‘I got this?’”

“Let’s just say it’s taken care of.”

“No.” Seokjin drops his phone, standing up from his chair. “Let’s say more. What the fuck did you do, Chad?”

Chad blinks at him in surprise. “Whoa – chill, dude. What’re you pissed about?”

Seokjin pauses, uncertain. It is not as though he knows you, not really. But still – Seokjin remembers how sincere you looked that day, apologizing for the display. You did not mean to injure their kiosk; he knows that much.

“Chad…” Seokjin mutters in warning.

He does not get further before screams erupt from the food court. Seokjin’s head whips sideways, spotting the source of the commotion. Once again, a drone is loose in the mall. Like two days prior, a rogue helicopter flies over the food court. It seems out of control, dive-bombing people at random and sending them running.

Seokjin’s mouth drop. Before he can move, the drone careens towards the ground. A girl stands alone next to the frozen yogurt place, holding her cone and staring at it in terror. Her eyes widen, fixed on the drone and Seokjin moves on instinct, darting into the crowd.

Before he can arrive, the girl’s mom appears to yank her to safety. Her cone spills in the process, mint chocolate chip on the ground, but at least the helicopter misses, swooping and diving again. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, realizing the drone moves much too fast to be out of control.

Glancing around, Seokjin realizes Chad is on his phone. When he sees Seokjin looking, Chad waves at him with a grin.

Seokjin’s stomach heaves. Before he can move, you are barreling towards him.

“YOU!” you yell, pointing a finger. Several people between you look up in surprise.

Seokjin blinks, also pointing at himself. “Me?”

“You!” you gasp, skidding to a stop. “What the hell did you do to my drone?”

You are holding several remotes in your fist, Seokjin realizes. Apparently, none of them are working. The helicopter swoops dangerously close to you both and Seokjin ducks out of the way.

“What did I do?” he blurts, staring upwards. “You think I’m the one behind this?”

“No, shit!” you yell, dodging the drone.

“Y/N, I –” The chopper dive-bombs again and Seokjin groans. This is not going to make you believe him, but he needs to do something before someone gets hurt. “Fuck it!” he yells and takes off.

Sprinting away, Seokjin hears you yelling behind him. Ignoring you, Seokjin leaps onto a table. He is not sure how Chad is controlling the helicopter – possibly from his phone, but Seokjin would not put it past him to have someone stationed elsewhere in the mall. Based on the depth of his vengeance on Twitter, Seokjin imagines Chad to be petty.

All Seokjin knows is he needs to stop the drone and a sure-fire way of doing that is getting the drone from the air.

Above, the drone does a loop before dive-bombing a cluster of girls exiting the lingerie store. The girls squeal, scatting in every direction as the helicopter pulls from its spiral. Leaping into the air, Seokjin’s fingers barely brush a wing before falling back to the ground.

“SEOKJIN, GET BACK HERE!”

Ignoring you, Seokjin continues pursuing the drone. “Sorry!” he yells, dodging a woman. “Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like!”

Your footsteps pound behind him, catching up. “It looks like you hijacked one of your drones!”

“See!” Seokjin glances over his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t what it looks like!”

“Huh?”

“Aha!” Seokjin leaps into the air. Fuck – he barely misses. Crashing again to the ground, Seokjin takes off running. He uses his next jump to leap onto a table.

A guy looks up from his hot dog, mustard dribbled onto his chin. “What the f –”

Seokjin leaps into the air, fingers grazing the wing of the helicopter. Eyes narrowed, Seokjin swears as his heels hit the ground. A mother nearby covers the ears of her child.

“Sorry!” Seokjin yells in response.

A hand grabs his arm. “Kim Seokjin!” you blurt, whirling him sideways to face you.

Seokjin glances over your shoulder in distress. “It’s getting away!” he blurts, shaking free to sprint towards the fro-yo.

Your mouth drops, but you follow. “What are you doing?”

Not having the breath to answer, Seokjin runs faster. For the first time in his life, he is grateful Jungkook pushes him so hard at the gym. Jumping again in the air, Seokjin thinks he has done it – until you jump suddenly in front of him, swatting his hand.

“Hey!” Seokjin yelps, stumbling as he hands. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

“Mine!” you yell, darting forward.

“Wait – Y/N!”

Grumbling, he chases after you. The two of you must look ridiculous, racing around the food court. As you pass Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin swears he can hear Yoongi cracking up at the register.

One second, you are ahead of him and the next, Seokjin is. He runs faster, pumping his arms as he spots the drone by the fountain. Cutting you off, Seokjin puts on a sudden burst of speed and leaps into the air. His fingers wrap around metal, yanking the helicopter from the sky. As he descends, Seokjin cannot help but laugh – until your hand finds his elbow, pulling him sideways.

Seokjin yelps, stumbling when his feet hit the concrete.

There is a dangerous, teetering moment where you both hover at the edge of the fountain – and then he falls, taking you with. Seokjin yelps, soaked to the skin when a water jet hits his face. A second splash follows as your butt hits the water.

If feels like a scene from a movie; that moment when a song cuts at a party. One second, everything is happening and the next – nothing.

Slowly, Seokjin pushes himself to sit in the water. The trickling sound of the fountain fills his ears, one of his hands resting on something which is definitely not a penny.

“Gross,” Seokjin groans, seeing the wad of pink gum.

His pants are soaked, so is his shirt and Seokjin does not even want to imagine the state of his hair. Removing his hand from the water gum, Seokjin looks up.

You glare back at him, making Seokjin recoil.

At least the drone is down.

Seokjin can see its red wings submerged in the water, bobbing genteelly in the waves of the fountain. Slowly, the sounds of the mall filter back in. Someone nearby snickers and someone else starts to clap. In his peripheral, Seokjin can see a few teenagers recording and slowly, he closes his eyes. If he goes viral, there is no way his manager will keep him.

You seem to realize the same thing, glancing around you in panic. Seokjin realizes your situation is noticeably worse than his, since you were wearing a white t-shirt when you fell. The material sticks to your skin, making each curve of your body apparent.

Seokjin swallows, understanding crashing into him with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt.

He likes you.

Fuck. Seokjin likes you, and he is a giant idiot.

Snickering at the food court grabs Seokjin’s attention. It appears he is not the only one to have noticed your shirt. At least your bra is white, but this does not seem to matter to fifteen-year-old boys.

Glancing down, you inhale and cover your chest. Seokjin awkwardly tries to stand, rushing forward to help but slips in the process, nearly falling again. It does not seem as though you desire his help anyways, springing to your feet with tears in your eyes.

Teeth chattering, you hold one hand before you. “Stay away,” you blurt, wet strands of hair plastered against your face. As though unable to help yourself, your lower lip quivers. “I fucking mean it, Seokjin. Stay away from me.”

Seokjin’s feet falter beneath him. “I…” Staring at you, he slowly nods in defeat. “Okay.”

You bend, scooping the helicopter into your arms before turning away.

Giving him another scowl, you climb from the fountain. Your sneakers make squishing noises against the linoleum as you stalk through the food court. Seokjin continues to stand there, ignoring the water jets which repeatedly hit his kneecaps.

His stomach sinks, watching you disappear.

Logically, Seokjin should go and find mall security. He should explain to them what happened before they find him, or worse – before he goes viral on the web. Less logically, Seokjin wants to run after you. He cannot simply leave things between you like that.

At the very least, he should find you a dry t-shirt. Maybe Hoseok could get him one from Foot Locker.

Because this is partly his fault. Seokjin was not the one who took over the drone and he did not push you into the fountain, but you only reacted that way because of how Seokjin has treated you. It was not a wild leap of thought to assume Seokjin was the culprit.

Before he can think about this further, a laugh breaks through the crowd. Turning around, Seokjin sees Chad running towards him.

“Wow.” Chad skids to a stop at the fountain. “That was incredible. Did you see how wet she was? And guess who got it all on camera?” He winks, waving his phone.

“Did you?” Seokjin speaks pleasantly, although he is starting to see red. “Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Chad grins, handing over the phone.

Accepting the object, Seokjin promptly throws this into the fountain.

Chad’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” he blurts, watching the metal sink to the bottom.

Seokjin brushes off his hands. “You’re fired,” he says, stepping out of the fountain. Water drips from his shirt, splashing the ground at his feet.

Chad’s eyes bug. “You can’t fire me, asshole. You’re not my manager.”

“Maybe not.” Seokjin shrugs and walks past. His hands open and close, curling into fists. “But he likes me better than you and he’ll believe me when I say this was your fault.”

“You dick!”

“That’s right,” Seokjin mutters. He glances at your kiosk, only to find it empty – Brandi must be helping you to clean up. Something twinges in his chest, knowing this is partly his fault. “I guess I am.”

One week later, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about you.

He tries to forget. Truly, he does but this proves itself to be more difficult than he realized. Seokjin did not understand before, how deeply you integrated yourself in his life. He did not realize how much he looked forward each day to your banter, to hearing your laugh whenever he passed by your kiosk. The past month has been bearable only because of your presence.

Slumped at the counter of Auntie Anne’s pretzels, Seokjin stares forlornly across the food court.

“Either smile or move.”

Seokjin turns to Yoongi in confusion. “Huh?”

“Either smile,” Yoongi repeats. “Or move. You’re bumming out all my customers.”

Seokjin glances at the empty food court before him. It is 10:00 AM. “What customers?”

“Exactly. All my customers are scared off by how sad you are.”

Seokjin manages a weak chuckle. “Trust me, my face is not what’s driving your customers away. If anything, it’s your latest SoundCloud mix.”

Yoongi frowns, perturbed. “Take that back.”

Seokjin winces, seeing the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry, man,” he mumbles. “I’m just not in a great mood today.”

“No shit.”

Seokjin cracks a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Much in the same way climate change is obvious to everyone but the Cheeto.”

Stifling a laugh, Seokjin quickly sobers. “I just… I don’t know. I thought she’d hear me out, at least.”

The entire past week, Seokjin has parked at the opposite end of the mall from your kiosk. It makes his morning walk shorter, but somehow lonelier.

“So, this is about her, huh?” Yoongi lowers his elbows to the counter. “She’s gone incommunicado.”

“Yeah, it’s about her. I guess I can’t really blame her for being mad at me.”

“No?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I was kind of a dick.”

Yoongi snorts. “She was a dick, too.”

“Yeah, but I started it.” Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “I was the one who approached her all weird, called her the competition. That set a tone.”

“Okay.” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking. “So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m going to do nothing about it.”

“Then stop complaining to me.”

“I’m not complaining!” Seokjin looks up and sighs. “Alright, maybe I’m complaining a little. I just… wish I’d realized I liked her sooner.”

“Who cares about that? Tell her now!”

“But she hates me.”

“She hated you then!”

Seokjin glares and takes another sip of his coffee – sputtering, he chokes, “Oh, shit – that’s hot.”

“Hey.” Yoongi gives him a look. “She thinks you messed with her job. That’s way different than wearing tight pants, or putting on a fidget show, or whatever.”

“Fidget spinner show, Yoongi. Fidget show sounds like something else.”

“Both are lame,” Yoongi says. “And my point still stands. She’s mad at you now because of something you didn’t do. Now, move your elbow – I need to clean that spot before lunch.”

Seokjin obliges, dutifully removing himself from the counter. Drinking his coffee, he stares out at the food court. Up until now, Seokjin thought he was doing the noble thing. He was respecting your wishes by giving you space. You said you did not wish to see him again.

Yoongi is right, though. You said all that laboring under a misconception. More than respecting the words said in anger, perhaps it is better for Seokjin to tell you the truth. Maybe pretending to be noble is just another way of chickening out.

Because if Seokjin explains everything to you and you still do not care, it means he is alone in all this. His feelings are one-sided and everything before now was merely a rivalry. The spark Seokjin feels when he looks at you, the burning desire to kiss you – if you knew all that and still hated him, then Seokjin would be alone.

Seokjin exhales and looks up. “Gotta go,” he says, slapping the counter. “See you after your shift?’

“Wait!” Yoongi catches his arm before Seokjin can leave. “Bracelet buddies?” he grins, holding up the pink cat charm wound around his wrist.

Seokjin groans, dutifully rolling up his sleeve to showcase the pale pink alpaca. “Bracelet buddies,” he says glumly.

Yoongi gave him the gift several days ago; payback, he said, for all the women Seokjin has sent his way with the promise of a free pretzel. That used to be Seokjin’s way of scoring dates at the mall. At least, before he met you. Seokjin is obligated to wear said bracelet for three months, or else Yoongi will send their friends pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open on the couch.

If he is being honest, Seokjin does not entirely hate the bracelet. The alpaca is kind of cute, but Yoongi cannot ever know that. Waving goodbye, he manages to scowl and keep up appearances when he heads towards his kiosk.

For the next several days, Seokjin continues to wimp out.

Kind of.

While he does not actually explain what happened, he tries to make up for it in other ways. On Monday, he overhears you telling the Kay Jewelers girl the legs of your stool are too short. As a result, Seokjin volunteers to work late and stays long after closing. Before he leaves, he goes to your kiosk and switches your stool for his.

On Thursday morning, your shifts overlap. Seokjin sees you yawn passing his kiosk, mentioning to Brandi you did not sleep well the night prior. Ducking behind his counter, Seokjin does not make eye contact.

Still, he stops by Java Joe’s on his break and begs Taehyung for coffee.

Taking the long way back through the mall, Seokjin visits your kiosk. It is the first time he has tried talking to you since the Great Fountain debacle. As you come into view, Seokjin swallows and forces the words from his lips.

“Hey.” He comes to a stop at the register.

You freeze when you see him. “Um. Hi?”

Seokjin holds the coffee tray out like a shield. “I was at Java Joe’s and Taehyung brewed too much espresso. Lisa doesn’t drink it, so I was wondering if you wanted it?”

Your lips part, staring at him for a moment.

When you do not immediately respond, Seokjin starts to sweat. “You don’t have to take it,” he says quickly. “I can give it to someone else. It’s too much for me though, and you were on the way back from the shop…”

Trailing off, Seokjin wonders if this entire endeavor is foolish. The tray he is holding is full – four, small cups of espresso which cost an hour of pay. Of course, you do not need to know that. You only need to know that he thought of you.

“I – yeah,” you say slowly, reaching out for a cup. “Thanks, Seokjin.”

Seokjin blinks, since your response was almost cordial. Before he can get too excited about this, Brandi appears.

“Wow, thanks!” she enthuses, grabbing a cup. “That was so nice of you to do this.”

“Right.” Seokjin deflates just a little. It is not as if he does not want Brandi to have espresso, but he was hoping for a shared moment with you. “Just spreading the love – or caffeine, as it were. Anyways…” His laughter trails off, gaze darting to you. “Guess I have one more cup to distribute. Enjoy!”

He turns around too fast for you to respond.

Each step he takes, Seokjin half-expects to hear you call out behind him. If this were pre-Fountain Incident, you probably would have. An insult, or horrible pun – something to let Seokjin know you were watching him walk away, but now there is only silence.

This goes on for a week. Seokjin continues to do nice things for you, passing by in the hopes you will say hi. He holds his breath and hopes you will speak first, but it seems you are determined to continue icing him out.

Seokjin supposes he cannot blame you for this. It is not as though you were friends, after all.

He has almost accepted the idea that you will continue being strangers when one day, Seokjin looks up and finds you at the register.

All words instantly die in his throat.

If he thought he was in the process of getting over you, Seokjin was sorely mistaken. The days of silence have not lessened his want, but only intensified it. It makes him swallow, uncertain, which must be a first. Out of all his friends, Seokjin is not the one to call shy.

Tentatively, you smile and Seokjin realizes he still has not spoken.

“H-hi,” he stammers.

Your shoulders seem to relax at his nervousness. “Hi. Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Seokjin says, slamming his register shut. “Lisa is on break, but it’s been a slow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Same. Guess we finally found those lulls you were on about.”

Seokjin chuckles under his breath. The space between you falls silent again.

“I, uh…” Twisting your hands before you, you seem unsure what to say. “I haven’t seen you around, lately.”

Seokjin’s heart stutters. “Oh. I guess.”

“That’s kind of my fault,” you say. Seokjin’s gaze drops to your hands, which continue to twist. He finds the gesture oddly endearing. “I was the one who told you to stay away.”

Arching a brow, Seokjin turns towards the register. He does not know what to say without being rude. Yes, seems like the most obvious answer, but that could be construed as impolite. Casually, he sneaks a peek sideways. You are right, though – this is partly your fault, also. Even if the other fault is his own.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t blame you for saying that, though.”

“You don’t?”

Curiosity laces your tone and Seokjin looks up, surprised to see a question mark in your gaze.

“Brandi told me Chad was fired,” you add.

Seokjin stills. “Yeah. He was.”

You pause, as though waiting for an explanation. When none comes, you narrow your eyes. “He was the one who messed with that drone, wasn’t he? Not you.”

“I – yeah, I guess so.”

Exasperation enters your gaze. “Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did!” Seokjin protests. “I told you when we were chasing after the drone and you didn’t believe me!”

“Oh,” you say, wilting a bit. “Right.”

Seeing your face, Seokjin softens. “Look, it’s not a big deal.”

“Is it?” you ask in disbelief. “I yelled at you in front of the entire mall for something you didn’t do, and you’re saying its fine?”

Seokjin’s lips quirk. “Well, when you put it like that.”

When you roll your eyes at the ceiling, he laughs. Weirdly, it feels good to have you disparage him a little. It feels as though you are on even footing again.

“I mean, it’s not like we were friends,” Seokjin continues. “Why wouldn’t you think it was me?”

“Hm.” You blink, taken aback. “I guess you’re right.”

After another long moment, Seokjin adds, “We could try to be friends now, though. If you want.”

You bite down on your lip. “Are you giving me a formal offer, Seokjin? Should I sign on the dotted line somewhere?”

“I can make a contract if you want. All good peace treaties are in writing.”

“Is that what this is? A peace treaty?”

“Of a sort.” Seokjin raises a brow. “I can’t promise to stop kicking your ass in sales, though. I was born talented.”

“Or, maybe it’s Maybelline,” you shoot back. “I wouldn’t want you to stop, though. It’s been too quiet around here without you blasting Backstreet Boys.”

“Liked what you heard?”

“Who doesn’t like Backstreet Boys?”

“Monsters.”

“Agreed.”

“Wow.” Seokjin’s brow furrows. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever agreed with me.”

“I know.” After a moment, you frown. “It’s oddly unsettling.”

Seokjin laughs – a short, surprised burst which makes you smile. “Well...” Trailing off, he finds himself unsure what more to say. “Is that why you came over?”

“Let’s see.” You lift a hand, ticking things off on your fingers. “Tell you I know you didn’t sabotage my job. Check. Ask to be friends? Check. Oh,” you add, as though only remembering. “There was something else I wanted to say.

Seokjin waits, holding his breath as you start to lean in.

Angelic, you smile. “I lied before,” you say. “We aren’t having a lull. See you around!”

Dropping a wink, you turn to walk across the food court. Seokjin watches you go, legs having effectively turned to jelly in your presence. It is unfair that you have this effect on him. Slowly, he lowers himself onto his stool. It would seem the two of you are friends now.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Seokjin wonders what he has gotten himself into.

Over the next couple of weeks, Seokjin stops by your kiosk more often. He learns your usual morning coffee order – a grande iced Americano – and occasionally brings it along. You seem to have switched to the morning shift, he notices. Before, it was about fifty-fifty which time of the day you showed up.

At some point, Seokjin explains about his former job and current app development side projects. This turns into a running joke of him bouncing ideas off you.

“Okay,” you say, folding your hands across a wan food court table.

Seokjin takes a sip of his coffee. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, what’s today’s app idea?”

Seokjin snorts. It is 10:00 AM and neither of you must be at your shift yet but somehow, you both managed to arrive early.

“What about this?” Seokjin leans back in his chair. “Angry birds, but – instead of birds, its photos of friends that you upload yourself.”

“Pass.”

“Hm. A Bachelorette fantasy league app?”

“Hard no.”

“Okay, so this one is a kid’s game.”

“Go on.”

“A kid’s game where you change the oil of your dad’s car as fast as you can.”

You snort, nearly spilling your drink. “Seokjin! That’s a terrible app idea.”

“Bonus points if you spill no oil on the driveway!”

“Seokjin!”

He grins. “Yeah, Yoongi said it was bad, too. I don’t get it.”

“Please.” Shaking your head, your smile fades the longer you look at him. “I don’t believe any of those are your actual idea, though.”

“Huh?” Seokjin blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Those are just the ideas you tell people to make them laugh,” you observe. “It gets them off your back, so you don’t have to say your actual idea. You know, the one you really care about.”

Seokjin pauses, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You arch a brow. “I get it. That’s how I am with my writing. Freelance doesn’t exactly pay for dreams, does it? I tend to downplay my favorite ideas, so then if they don’t work out – hey, at least it wasn’t something I cared about. You know?”

Seokjin is not quite sure how to respond. In only a few sentences, you have looked inside him and summarized his thoughts. No one – not even Yoongi, whom Seokjin has known for years – is able to read him as well.

Inhaling gently, Seokjin leans back from the table. “Well,” he admits. “There is this one idea.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Seokjin considers where to begin. “Do you know what fair lending is?”

“Not really, no.”

“It’s the unbiased treatment of customers by banks.” Seokjin pauses and, when you do not seem bored with the topic, begins to speak freely. “It ensures financial institutions provide uniform services, regardless of bias.”

“Gotcha. So, it’s like equal opportunity but for banks?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Seokjin exhales. “Basically, I want to create a fair lending app. There is a lot out there to help with credit decisions and stuff, but I want to put it all in one place. I want to break down the ‘non-biased metrics’ banks use and warn people how there could be bias involved.”

Your frown. “What do you mean?”

“Take income, for example.” Seokjin grips his cup tighter. “The vast majority of people below the poverty line are minorities. So, if a bank has a hard and fast income requirement for a loan, they inadvertently discriminate. It’s why a variety of factors are mandated to assist in … what?” Seokjin blinks, seeing you staring. “What is it?”

Hiding a smile, you shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just a cool idea. I think you should do it.”

“But then who will make bachelorette fantasy app?” Seokjin jokes, ducking his head.

“Someone else.” You wait until he looks up. “Do the fair lending app.”

Seokjin finds he cannot think of another joke. “Alright,” he says slowly. “It’s a plan.”

You nod, sipping your coffee as silence falls in between you. It is unnerving, how easy it is for Seokjin to talk to you. With most people, it takes him a while to show his true colors but with you, he finds he cannot be anyone else.

Glancing at his watch, Seokjin realizes how late it is. “Shit,” he mutters, jumping out of his seat. “It’s nearly 10:30.”

You wince, standing as well. “Damn, do you have to open today?”

“Unfortunately so.” Seokjin grabs his coffee. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay, Y/N?”

“Okay,” you say, waving when he turns out of sight.

Seokjin does not hesitate to walk away. He curses himself the entire way to his kiosk because he is becoming much too comfortable with being your friend. Enough that he keeps catching himself thinking about more.

It is hard not to think about his hands wrapped around yours on your coffee cup. Hard not to imagine carpooling with you in his car to work. Seokjin tries to be on his best behavior but still, the fantasies worm their way in.

It is why he has created several rules of conduct around you. First and foremost is never stay for too long. The second Seokjin feels himself becoming attached, he leaves. Like now, for instance. Seokjin does not really have to be at the kiosk before eleven but the way you were looking at him made his heart beat out of his chest.

Self-preservation, he reminds himself.

The rules are working until Taehyung throws a party.

“Saturday night,” Taehyung grunts, slamming Seokjin’s coffee order on the counter.

Seokjin blinks, reaching up to take both cups. Lately, Taehyung has been in the worst kind of mood. This mostly seems to stem from his hot co-worker who will not take him seriously. All the guys in the mall gave him shit about it before, but the kid really does seem to like her. Which sucks, since Taehyung has a reputation and the pretty barista clearly has heard of it.

“The party is at your place?” asks Seokjin, glancing up at the counter.

Taehyung nods. Loud enough for his co-worker to hear, he adds, “The party will be at my place this weekend! Can’t wait to see you there, Seokjin!”

Seokjin snorts, shaking his head. “You’re whipped, man,” he whispers. Then, loud enough for the female barista to hear, he adds, “I’ll be there! In fact, everyone should come!”

The girl does not react, busy at the register and Seokjin shrugs.

Sorry man, he mouths to Taehyung before pushing open the door. Making his way through the mall, Seokjin walks past your kiosk – only to see you deep in conversation with another guy. Seokjin does not recognize him as your co-worker, but he does recognize him from the gym.

Occasionally, Jungkook talks to him before they work out. Seokjin never found the guy threatening before.

Seeing him now though, the oddest sensation unfurls in his stomach. He does not want you talking to this guy – the desire flashes through Seokjin’s mind faster than he can stop it. Before he can turn around and leave though, before Seokjin can separate himself from the situation, you look up and smile.

“Hey, Seokjin!”

“Hey, Y/N.” Plastering a smile on his face, Seokjin forces himself to walk towards your kiosk. “And you are…?” he asks, looking at the stranger.

The guy grins, unconcerned. “Hey, I’m Josh.”

“Cool.” Seokjin returns to looking at you. “Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this weekend, Y/N?”

Everyone at the mall knows who Taehyung is. He is a staple for anyone who drinks coffee – and chances are, if you have stopped by Java Joe’s in the past three days, you are invited.

Your eyes widen. “I was thinking about it.”

“Cool.” Seokjin casually leans an elbow against your kiosk. He forgets about the wheels though, and as a result, the entire thing starts to move. Frantically attempting to right this, Seokjin nearly spills his coffee in the process.

“Anyways…” he mutters, ears turning scarlet.

You clamp your lips tightly together. “So, you’re going to be there?”

Seokjin nods. He has no idea what he is doing. He has no idea what Josh is doing, since he has not said a word since introducing himself.

Glancing at him now, Seokjin is reminded of Chad. Not because the two look anything alike, but because they both have that air about them. That condescending, could-bench-press-you-in-seconds look. Seokjin bets that, at some point in the past ten days, Josh has worn a snapback.

You are standing close very close to him, though. Seokjin cannot ignore this fact.

“Cool.” Your gaze lingers on his. “Then, I guess I’ll see you there?”

Seokjin nods. “Guess so. We’ll see!”

He turns, walking away and overhears Josh ask you details about the party. Gritting his teeth, Seokjin uncurls his hands from their fists. You are not his to be jealous of, he reminds himself. He has no right to be angry if you decide to date someone else. But still, Seokjin’s mood remains sour for the rest of the day.

You do not visit at the end of your shift. If could be because you are genuinely busy. Or, it could be something else. Or, someone.

Seokjin has the next two days off. He uses them to work on his fair lending app, getting a good bit of coding done in his apartment. Your voice plays in his mind as he works, telling him to go for what he wants.

Seokjin is tired of working at the Fidget Funk. He is tired of waking up every morning, going to a job he hates and feeling as though he is doing nothing with his life. What was supposed to be a temp job has stretched into months and Seokjin needs to act for anything about this to change.

There is only so long he can complain before doing something about it.

He wants to do what he loves; wants to do something he cares about – not this. Sometimes, making that decision is the hardest part.

The night of the party, Seokjin drives there with Yoongi. Yoongi, surprisingly agrees to come with little coercion. Usually, Seokjin needs to drag his taciturn roommate to social events. He was easily convinced tonight though, which results in Seokjin being more nervous than normal.

As they enter Taehyung’s apartment, he pauses on the threshold.

If he had your number, he would have texted to see if you were coming, but Seokjin does not and so, he could not. Wandering into the room, Seokjin winces when no one removes their shoes. Parties are always strangely barbaric in that regard.

Taehyung’s apartment with his roommate, Jimin, is much larger than his. Seokjin remembers Taehyung saying Jimin came from money but does not remember specifics. Jimin is a night nurse at NorthShore Medical center and often stops by Java Joe’s in the morning for coffee. Other than that, Seokjin does not know much about him.

Walking inside, Seokjin realizes Taehyung has downplayed Jimin’s wealth. There is no way they could afford this place on a nurse and barista salary. A bunch of people are outside – because there is an outside; a large balcony overlooking the city – chatting about nothing over the rims of their drinks.

Yoongi disappears as soon as they enter, heading off to god-knows-where. He leaves Seokjin alone, who shifts his weight about nervously. Glancing up, he spots Namjoon in the kitchen and hastily rushes towards him. Finally, a familiar face.

“Joon!” he calls out.

Namjoon waves, re-filling the cup in his hand. When Seokjin reaches his side, he hands another to Seokjin. “Hey,” Namjoon nods. “You just get here?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin scans the party again, red cup in one hand. “Is everything c –”

Cutting himself off mid-sentence, Seokjin stares when you walk into the room. Everything he wanted to say falls from his brain to the floor. It is not unlike that one scene in She’s All That, when Laney comes down the stairs and Freddie Prinze Jr. loses his mind. Seokjin cannot think, looking at you.

A red cup is in your hand, matching the red gloss on your lips and god, Seokjin cannot stop thinking about kissing it off.

He swallows, hard – and then notices the guy at your side.

You laugh, turning sideways to Josh. Because that is who it is, of course – the same muscle- bound jock you were talking to at the drone kiosk earlier.

Jungkook appears as well, clapping Josh on the shoulder. Seokjin scowls, swallowing a larger sip of his drink than intended. First, this guy tries to steal his girl and now, his best friend. Eyes widening, Seokjin straightens. Shit, you are not his girl. He needs to stop thinking that way.

“Seokjin?”

Seokjin realizes Namjoon is staring at him. “Uh, yeah?”

“You trailed off in the middle of a sentence and have been hard-core staring at that girl ever since. Is – oh!” Namjoon’s eyes light up. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

“That’s who?” Seokjin hastily swallows his drink.

“The girl! Fountain girl!” Namjoon shoves him. “The one you’re head over heels for!”

“Okay, fountain girl is a horrible way of describing her. And yeah, maybe that’s – shit, shut up,” Seokjin hisses. “She’s coming this way.”

Namjoon snorts into his drink. You are, indeed, waking towards them but Josh is no longer beside you. Craning his neck, Seokjin looks over your shoulder but does not see the guy anywhere.

“Hey.” You come to a stop right before them, glancing at Namjoon. “Namjoon, right?”

Namjoon sticks out a hand. “Yep. Y/N?”

You take this, stifling a smile as you shake. “Yeah.”

“And, of course, you know Seokjin.” Namjoon grins at Seokjin’s flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” you say, offering him a tentative smile. “We go way back.”

Feeling somewhat nauseous, Seokjin takes another sip of his drink. “Y/N and I are friends.”

A flash of something – uncertainty? Annoyance? – crosses your features. “Right,” you say carefully. “Friends.”

Your expression remains stubborn though, and Seokjin wonders if he has done something wrong. Changing the subject, he glances around the apartment. “Have you been here before, Y/N?”

“No,” you confess. “But damn – which roommate won the lottery?”

Seokjin grins. “I know, right? I can show you around if you want.”

You blink, taken aback by his offer and Seokjin wonders if that was too forward. Well, fuck it – he is not getting anywhere by being subtle.

“Yeah,” you say, recovering yourself. “I’d like that.”

Pushing himself off the counter, Seokjin says goodbye to Namjoon and plunges into the party. He continues to look for hot gym guy, Josh, but does not see him anywhere. It is unlikely you came here together, but not impossible. Perhaps the two of you are dating. Perhaps you like him and want to date him in the future.

Seokjin is so busy running through what-if scenarios, he does not notice you looking at him.

“Right, so Taehyung and Jimin’s rooms are that way.” Seokjin leads through the crowd. “Aka, that hall is off limits. This is the living area and well, you already saw the balcony.” Steps faltering, Seokjin looks sideways at you. “Did you see the balcony?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Scared of heights?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, then you’re lucky.” Seokjin mutters, pushing open the sliding glass door. “Luck you never met that dick, Jared Karinsky.”

Laughing, you follow him out on the balcony. There are only a few other people outside and, once the door slides shut, it feels as though you are trapped in another world.

“Who’s Jared Karinksy?”

Glowering, Seokjin takes a sip of his drink. “Some dick who knew I didn’t like heights, but still brought me to the top of the jungle gym. Then, he left me there. It took two hours for my brother to find me and get me back down.”

Laughing, you lean against the railing. “I take it that didn’t help?”

“It did not,” says Seokjin. “If anything, my fear was worse after.”

You grin, draining the rest of your cup as the wind ruffles your hair. It makes Seokjin’s heart ache a bit to look at.

“Well, I have to say –”

The glass door slides open, interrupting whatever you were about to say. Josh’s head pops out. “Y/N!” he grins. “I was looking for you.”

You slowly turn towards the interruption. “I... oh. Hey, Josh.”

“Are you busy?” Josh glances between you and Seokjin.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Seokjin feels oddly foolish. It seems obvious now, that you came here with Josh. You must have been making a beeline for drinks when you ran into Seokjin in the kitchen. Seokjin assumed, then. He thought you were free. When he grabbed you, he was yanking you away from the guy you really wanted to be with.

“Not busy.” Seokjin drains the rest of his cup. “Not busy at all. Have fun,” he mutters, brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door.

When he leaves, Seokjin does not look back and so, he does not see your lips part. He does not watch you stare after him with equal parts frustration and anger. All Seokjin sees is the kitchen before him, full of alcohol for him to consume. Alcohol he will need to get through the rest of this party.

He is almost to the kitchen when a hand grips his arm, yanking him around. “What the fuck was that?” you say, brows furrowed.

Seokjin stares at you, alarmed you are in such close proximity. “I – huh? What the fuck was what?”

You scowl, leaning in and Seokjin leans back. “That!” you demand, waving vaguely at the balcony. “Why did you run away?”

“Run away?” Seokjin’s gaze darts towards the offending location. “I thought you wanted to talk to that guy?”

“Why would you think that?” you ask, brows furrowing further.

“I…” Seokjin finds himself at a loss. “I don’t know. Didn’t you come here with him?”

“With Josh?” You wrinkle your nose. “You mean – my cousin, Josh?”

“…cousin?”

You nod, looking at him incredulously. “You thought I wanted to talk to my cousin, Josh, as opposed to you?”

A lightbulb clicks in Seokjin’s mind. “I – he’s your cousin?”

“Yes, he’s my cousin.” Scowling, you take a step closer. “But even if he weren’t, why would you just leave like that? We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“I don’t know!” he blurts, gaze narrowing at your tone.

Out of the two of you, Seokjin is the one with the right to be angry. You are the one looking so damn good tonight and currently yelling at him for something he does not understand.

Vaguely aware they should not have this argument in the middle of Taehyung and Jimin’s kitchen, Seokjin grabs your wrist and tugs you into the hall. The forbidden one, next to the bedrooms. Realizing this, Seokjin keeps going and decides to beg forgiveness later.

Dropping your arm, he whirls around to find you mere inches away.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?” he accuses, pointing a finger. “For that matter – why didn’t you ask if I was going to the party tonight? If my presence is so important to you.”

Glaring at him, you bat his finger away. “You asked me first! Besides, I thought it was obvious I wanted you here. You know… because of the… and…”

“Because of the what?”

Somehow, you have gotten very close to Seokjin. The tips of your toes are just brushing his. Electricity crackles between you, making Seokjin’s heartbeat oddly erratic.

Glowering, your gaze darts to his lips. “Oh – seriously? Shut up and kiss me, you ass!”

Grabbing your face, Seokjin does just that. His lips crash into yours, the kiss muffled and urgent as he backs you to the wall. You groan, hands fisting in the back of his t-shirt. Seokjin cannot think beyond his hand resting on your jaw, then sliding into your hair, then moving down to your ass.

He cups you against him, head reeling from the sudden warmth of your mouth, your body and the urgency of your touch. Seokjin has never wanted someone so badly. Each brush of your lips leaves him wanting more, an endless desire alight in his veins.

Your mouth opens, tongue flicking with his as Seokjin’s heart nearly explodes. He cannot breathe – each breath mingles with yours, leaving him dizzy and parched.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to lean his arm to the wall.

You stare up at him, breathless and confused. Your chest continues to rise and fall, lips swollen from the wanton press of his mouth. Seokjin cannot look away.

“I…” He exhales, glancing towards the living room. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You nod so fast, you nearly hit your head on his chin. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Seokjin reaches down, grabbing your hand. “You good with my place? It’s only a few minutes drive.”

“Yeah,” you answer, following him down the hall. “Roommate?”

“Here. At the party.”

“Good.”

Dragging you into the foyer, Seokjin digs his phone from his pocket. Letting go of your fingers, he shoots a text off to Yoongi, telling him not to come home. He can face the consequences of that later. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Seokjin opens the door.

“Do you have a coat?” he asks, looking at you.

“Nope. You?”

“Nope.” Seokjin shuts the door to the hall and the noise of the party fades. “This way?”

“Sounds good.”

When you move to walk past, Seokjin grabs your hand – he cannot help himself. Pushing you against the wall, he relishes your muffled exclamation of surprise and kisses you fiercely. Thoroughly. The way he has wanted to for so long.

Hands sliding into your hair, Seokjin feels you arch against him. Your hand is on his hip, pulling him closer and Seokjin cannot stop thinking about your hand on other places.

When he finally breaks away, you stare at his lips. “That’s…” You swallow, voice sounding strangled. “Fuck.”

Seokjin grins. “Come on.”

Grabbing you again, he pulls you into the elevator. The entire way down, the air between you is electric. Seokjin shifts his weight and you follow suit. Raising a hand, you rub the back of your neck. Seokjin’s skin prickles when he sees.

When the door dings, opening into the lobby, you suddenly come to life. Newly determined, your hand wraps around his and pulls Seokjin outside. He practically throws his keys at the valet, wondering how on earth he is going to survive the drive home without touching you. Thank god he only had that one drink tonight. It would have been torture to be so close to fucking you and then not.

Startled by the thought, Seokjin realizes the truth of the matter. He is going to see you naked. Whirling to face you, Seokjin blurts, “This isn’t some random thing. You know that, right?”

Surprised, you glance at him. “I – what?”

“This.” Seokjin steps closer and his peripheral, sees the valet hop out of his car. “I really like you, Y/N.”

Staring up at him, you blink. “You do?”

“Of course, I do! You thought I didn’t?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Of course, not!” Grabbing his keys from the valet, Seokjin opens the passenger door. He waits until you sit before crossing to the driver’s side. “Why would you think that?” he asks, sliding into the seat.

You stare at him incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Seokjin pulls out of the driveway. “I’ve liked you for so long! I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Uh! Could’ve fooled me.”

“Are you serious? I was such an idiot in front of you! What other explanation is there?”

“That you’re an idiot!” you answer, scowling. “Are you seriously saying that was your idea of flirting?”

“I mean… well, no, but…”

You snort, facing forward. “You’re so bad at this.”

“At what?”

“This!” you insist, gesturing between you.

“Oh, come on! Like you’re Juliet, or something.”

“Who?”

“Juliet! Of Romeo and Juliet!”

“They… Seokjin, they died in the end!” you say incredulously.

“Well, what do I know?” Seokjin makes a sharp right, pulling into his parking lot. “I never finished reading that play, actually – fell asleep a third of the way in. What I’m trying to say is that you’re also shit at this.”

“Oh, really?”

“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” Seokjin reminds, throwing the car into park.

Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I apologized for that.”

“You were the one who said you wanted to be friends!” Seokjin shoves open his door and exits the vehicle.

You exit as well, slamming the door shut. “Well, it seemed like the next logical step!”

“No.” Seokjin strides forward. Caging you against the car, he growls, “The next logical step would’ve been admitting you liked me, too.”

“Too?” You blink, stuck on the word. “So, you admit you like me?”

“Never said I didn’t.”

These last words are muttered against your lips, Seokjin cutting off further retorts with a kiss.

Arching upwards, your hands twine around his neck. Seokjin’s mind stutters, unsure what to think. His brain is a vague mess of swear words and exclamation points when his lips move against yours. It is hard to grasp the fact that you are here, with him and wanting him the same way he wants you.

Breaking apart, Seokjin rests his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he manages. “I know you said you wanted to leave with me. I know you got in my car and drove all the way here. But – because I want to be sure – do you want to come in?”

Breathlessly, you laugh. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Withdrawing, Seokjin takes your hand. “Then, let’s go.”

Climbing the outdoor stairs to reach his apartment, Seokjin pulls the keys from his pocket so he is prepared to enter. He does not check his phone, certain Yoongi has texted him multiple epithets about where he can stick his ass.

Bracing his hip against his door, Seokjin jiggles the key to shove it open. Once you are both inside, Seokjin half-expects you to wrinkle your nose. It is not as if his and Yoongi’s apartment can ever compete with Jimin and Taehyung’s.

You do none of this, though. Stepping inside, you place your purse on the counter and glance around curiously. “You live with that guy from the food court, right?” you ask, turning around. “Yoongi?”

Stepping forward, Seokjin crushes his mouth to yours.

You inhale, the noise caught by his lips when your hands slide up his back. One of your legs curls around his, rubbing your core against the meat of his thigh. Seokjin’s head spins, gripping your ass to push you against the counter. You make a muffled noise, gasping when Seokjin hardens into your crotch.

It is embarrassing how ready he is for you. All it took where a few whispered words about how badly you want him and here he is, rock-hard and on edge. Admittedly, the noises you make are not helping.

“Shit,” Seokjin breathes, kissing down the slope of your neck.

You arch your throat, allowing more access. Your skin tastes of berries and something else – probably a perfume Seokjin does not know the name of. The warm press of your core to his leg leaves Seokjin reeling.

“My room?” he gasps, hand dragging up your side.

Frantic, you nod. “Yes.”

Bending, Seokjin grips your legs and lifts you against him. He stumbles towards his bedroom, realizing too late you are heavier than he thought. Maybe Jungkook was right about adding weight to his reps. Kissing you again, Seokjin staggers into his bedroom and drops you on the bed.

Laughing, you grab your top to yank overhead. There is some skepticism to your gaze, as though you expected him to fall short in carrying you. Seokjin’s ego flames in response. Growling lowly, he rips off his shirt and descends on the bed. Parting your legs, he presses a kiss to your thigh.

“Take off your jeans.” Seokjin looks up.

You blink. “What?”

“I wanna eat you out.” Seokjin cocks a brow. “Or, is that too much?”

“No,” you glower, undoing your buttons. “Go for it.”

As you shimmy your jeans down your legs, Seokjin’s mouth dries at the sight of your panties. He did not imagine them to be lace. He did not imagine them to be quite as revealing as they are. Slowly, Seokjin reaches out to peel these aside. You inhale, arching on the bed. Seeing your pussy like that, laid out before him, he can hardly breathe.

You are wet for him. Theoretically, this makes sense, but Seokjin did not think he could make you wet. Did not think he would ever see you as drenched as you are, the lace in the middle much damper than the rest. Pressing another kiss to your knee, Seokjin inhales and makes his way higher.

Flicking your clit with his tongue, he teases at more. You mewl, curling inwards and Seokjin pushes your legs down. He sucks the length of your folds, getting you good and wet before he returns to your sex. You arch again, pussy clenching even through there is nothing inside you.

Smirking, Seokjin takes pleasure in this fact. Your folds are glistening, ready even though has not touched you yet. He has not even pushed a finger inside that tight, wet cunt of yours. Lowering his head, Seokjin’s tongue curls over your clit. He turns needy, licking until your hands fist in the sheets on either side of your body.

“Seokjin,” you groan. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Seokjin leisurely sucks on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His other hand drifts to your cunt, tracing in circles.

You moan beneath him on the bed, arching to try and push him inside. Seokjin memorizes the visual – the black lace of your bra barely hiding your nipples, hair splayed on his comforter with his hands on your thighs.

“I need more.”

“Yeah?” Seokjin lazily traces your pussy. “Want me to finger you?’

“Fuck, yes.”

“Mm.” Seokjin sucks your clit until you cry out from pleasure. Releasing you gently, he sits back on his heels to rub with his fingers. “I could probably make you come like this, though.”

Reaching underneath your body, you unhook your bra. Seokjin stares in awe at your chest, bared before him. “Probably,” you agree. “But wouldn’t it be more fun to come inside me?”

Seokjin’s teeth grit, the words going straight to his cock. Already, it pulses against the tight fit of his jeans – when he feels how wet you are, Seokjin cannot stop imagining himself inside you. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your hand to his crotch.

You inhale when you feel how hard he is. “You’re so… big,” you murmur. “Will you even fit?’

Seokjin smirks, bending until his lips cover yours. “Not yet,” he agrees, spreading your legs with one hand. Stroking your center, he wets himself with your arousal. “That’s why I gotta stretch you out first. Get you ready for this dick.”

“O-h,” you gasp, mouth a perfect o as Seokjin’s finger pushes inside.

It is a tight stretch. Seokjin feels a bit light-headed, imagining something so tight and wet wrapped around him. Withdrawing, he pushes a finger inside you again. Rolling your hips, you force Seokjin deeper and he clicks his tongue, hand grabbing your waist.

“You don’t get to be in control,” he instructs, finger sliding back out. Adding another one, he slowly fucks you again. “You just have to lie there and take it.”

“Good,” you breathe, two of his fingers inside you. “Finally. I’ve been wanting you to yank my panties down and fuck me for weeks now.”

Seokjin’s jaw clenches – shaking his head, he is certain he must have misheard. “What?”

A smile curls your lips. “You heard me,” you say sweetly, pussy squelching as Seokjin’s fingers slide in and out. “You’re so hot when you’re mad. Why do you think I teased you so much? Wanted your dick in my mouth to shut me up.”

Heat blazes through Seokjin’s veins. He has never been this turned on in his life – hearing such sinful things from your angelic lips. Sitting back on his heels, Seokjin frantically undoes his jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters, pushing them past his ass.

Yanking out his cock, Seokjin wraps a hand around his girth. He rubs himself roughly, ignoring the pre-cum dripping from his reddened tip. Already, he is steeling himself to not come inside you. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you watch him touching himself, lips parted in awe. Seokjin stares back, realizing you are as tuned on by him as he is by you.

Your gaze darts to his face. “Condom?” you ask, voice unsteady. “I don’t think I’ll last long once you’re inside me.”

Nodding, Seokjin grabs one from his drawer. Ripping open the packet, he rolls this on. Lowering an arm to the bed, Seokjin positions his cock at your core. As badly as he wants to be inside you, there is something so tantalizing about teasing. Spreading your legs, Seokjin rubs his cock to your clit and watches you twitch in response.

“Seokjin,” you groan, arms sliding around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Need you to fuck me so good,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Cock at your entrance, Seokjin slowly pushes inside. “Like that?”

“Mhmm.” You nod, breath hitching slightly. “Like that.”

“There?” Seokjin pushes in a bit more, moaning when your walls flutter around him.

You are squeezing him so fucking tight, Seokjin wonders how much more you can take. He is aware of the fact he is big. It would not be the first time a girl could not take him; would not be the first time he gave up and ate the girl out until she came.

“No!” Eyes flying open, you grab Seokjin’s wrist when he starts to withdraw. Lips parted, you stare at him in a daze. “Please keep going,” you beg. “Don’t wanna stop.”

Seokjin arches a brow. “You sure? Sure it feels good?”

“Good?” You stare at him with a fucked-out expression. “Oh my god.” Wrapping both legs around his waist, you push Seokjin in deeper. “You’re stretching me so good, baby. Can’t wait until you’re pounding this pussy.”

“Fuck,” Seokjin hisses, gaze darkening. “I think I somehow got harder.”

“I know,” you laugh, somewhat dreamily. “Felt your cock twitch inside me. So fucking hot.”

Seokjin continues to ease inside you, inch by inch until your eyes start to water. Biting down on your lip, you urge him on and before long, Seokjin bottoms out. He stops there, panting at the feeling of being so deep inside you. Glancing down, Seokjin sees your pussy split by his cock and cannot contain himself any longer. He slowly pulls out.

“What…” Grasping for his ass, you panic a bit. “Seokjin, don’t –”

Grabbing your knee, he slams back inside you. The two of you groan at the same time. Him, because he has never felt anything as tight and wet as your cunt and you because his dick is so large, your body is trembling.

“God.” You fall back on the bed, chest bouncing. “I fucking knew you were big. There was no other way you could be so annoying.”

Seokjin withdraws, reliving the sweet sensation of thrusting his cock in your tight pussy. You are so warm and so wet – now that you have been stretched, you mold easily to him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, lifting your hips to his.

Seokjin toys with you. Slowly sliding in and out, he brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing. “You thought I was annoying, huh?” he breathes, lips hot in your ear.

Nodding, your hands fist in the sheets. “Still do.”

Chuckling, Seokjin captures your lobe with his teeth. His hips roll against you, pressing you into the mattress. “Mm. Know what I think?”

“What?”

“You talk too much. Flip over.”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

“Thought you wanted me to shut you up?” Seokjin presses a sweet kiss to your mouth. “Now, flip over, so I can fuck you senseless.”

Withdrawing, he ignores every inch of him which screams to stay put. It is worth it though, when you finally flip onto your stomach and stick your ass in the air.

Inhaling, Seokjin runs a hand up your drenched pussy. Your lips are swollen, messy with slick from him eating you out. Lifting himself onto his knees, Seokjin grabs his dick and pushes against your center. Slapping your clit a few times, he hisses when he feels you tremble beneath him. Hands soft on your hips, he slides into your cunt.

“Ah!” you gasp, head thrown back from the motion.

Wrapping your hair around his wrist, Seokjin thrusts into you again. He can feel every inch of your cunt, feel the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock. God, you are driving him crazy. Thrusting harder, Seokjin cannot separate the sensations before him.

Your ass pushing back on him, the way your moans fall from your lips. The tight wetness of your heat, his cock disappearing in and out. Leaning down, Seokjin slides an arm around your ribcage and pulls you against him.

He continues to fuck you like that, cock entering your body at a punishing speed. You feel so good pressed against him, nipples hard as they peek through his palms. Seokjin’s lips find your neck, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“Fuck,” you groan, walls tightening around him. Your bodies bang together, his cock fucking you open in a way which barely seems decent. “Fuck – Seokjin – yes! Oh my god, yes.’

“Yeah?” His grip tightens around you. “You about to come on my dick, baby?”

“Yes!” you gasp. He is basically holding you up at this point, fucking you senseless. “Oh – oh! I thought… you – mmph – wanted! Me – fuck! Quiet!”

Chuckling, Seokjin slides a hand between your legs. Finding your clit, he begins to rub with his fingers. “Changed my mind,” he grunts. “Wanna hear you scream my name so loud, you wake all my neighbors.”

“S-Seokjin!”

Your legs start to shake, trembling with your impending orgasm and Seokjin is not doing much better. The only thing holding him back is the intense desire to feel you come wrapped around him.

“C’mon,” he groans, angling his hips even deeper. “Wanna feel this tight, little pussy come on my cock. Can you do that, baby? Can you?”

“Yes,” you gasp and then you are coming undone.

Seokjin groans, biting your shoulder when your pussy clamps down. Your orgasm is so intense, Seokjin is surprised he can keep you against him. Pushed over the edge, Seokjin shudders when he lets go and releases into the condom. It goes on for so long, his cock aching as you take every last bit of him.

Slowly, his hand falls and strokes down your side. Lips brushing your neck, Seokjin exhales and gently withdraws. Everything is over-sensitive, each inch of his body buzzing with satisfaction. Tying the condom into a knot, Seokjin tosses this in the garbage and sees you roll out of bed.

His stomach twists. “Where are you going?” he blurts, wincing at how needy he sounds.

It is only – you look so fucking beautiful. Hair messy and lips swollen, traces of arousal lingering on the inside of your thighs. You smile at him, as if sensing his nervousness.

“Where’s your bathroom?” you ask, sheepish.

Seokjin exhales, relief coursing through him. He points to the left. “Over there,” he says, collapsing on top of the sheets. His dick is limp, soft in his lap, but looking at you, Seokjin is already thinking about more. “Want me to show you?”

“That’s alright,” you laugh, turning around. “I think I can make it to the closet alone.”

Grinning, Seokjin falls back again. “Come back soon.”

“Okay.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you sneak another peek before disappearing.

Seokjin stares at his ceiling for a moment before he remembers his roommate. Wincing, he reaches down to fish his phone from his jeans. Unsurprisingly, there are several missed texts from Yoongi.

Yoongi: k lol [11:01 PM]

Yoongi doesn’t matter won’t be sleeping anyways [11:01 PM]

Yoongi: too busy eating dessert ; ) [11:01 PM]

Groaning, Seokjin plugs his phone into his charger. He guesses this means Yoongi found someone else to hook up with. Rolling over in bed, Seokjin starts when you open the door.

“Hey.” You smile, almost embarrassed. Walking towards him, you bend to scoop your underwear from the ground.

“Whoa!” Seokjin blurts, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into the bed before you can get dressed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Putting on clothes,” you laugh, curling into his side. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Mhm.” Seokjin’s nose nuzzles your hair. He is not sure why, but something about this feels right. Having your limbs entwined in his, your hand resting soft on his chest. He feels warm, satisfied by the thought of being near you.

Sleepily, you smile. “I’m not allowed to get dressed tonight, is that it?”

“Nope,” he agrees, heart soaring the longer he looks at you. “Something that good needs repeating.”

Laughing a little, you curl tighter around him. “Does that mean you want to repeat it?” you ask, uncertainty to your voice.

Sliding two fingers under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head up. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “I can’t think of anything I want more, to be honest.”

“I – same.”

Laying your head on his chest, you are quiet for a moment as Seokjin basks in the silence. Then, he exhales and adds, “I mean, aside from trouncing your sales targets, of course. I always want to do that.”

You snort, shoving his side. Seokjin pulls you in closer, grinning widely. It is a lie, of course – right now, there is nothing he wants more than to be with you.

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