#then im the one whos at fault because i got upset and showed “”“”weakness“”“”

[misfortunegirl]

obligatory photo to sum my feelings up

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

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It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

��I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Can I request HSP + depression reader (who thinks they are just weak and being crybaby) x Bucky, please? I understand you are super busy right now and I didn’t mean to rush you or anything but I'm just struggling with both HSP and depression and couldn’t help but send it right now. No need to hurry, just when you are free and maybe when you had nothing to write. Thank you and I love you!

Thank you for the request, I’m sorry it’s been a difficult time for you! I’m here if you need me and I hope that this helps!!! 

It’s called empathy

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1981

Warnings: depression, HSP (highly sensitive person), low self worth, negative self talk, swearing (that’s normal for me but this one’s a little extra), angst (more so internal idk if that needs a warning), fluff/comfort

Taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @mardema @abitgryffindorky @buckys-blue-eyes @strawberrimae @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @broadwaybabe18 @im-sick-of-failing

Taglist     Masterlist

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

Breathe in

Breathe out

In 

Out 

...in…

You felt a tear escape your eyes

Goddamn it

You didn’t want to cry, you couldn’t let yourself. It was stupid, it was just some shitty remark from someone when they were in a shitty mood, it wasn’t your fault, all that bullshit you tried to tell yourself. It never worked.

You were trying to control your breathing, looking up at the ceiling trying to will the tears away, biting your lip. You would not cry, not over this. Not over something that wasn’t worth your tears

Not when you didn’t even know what exactly you were crying over. 

Yet here you were, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with white knuckles, looking up at the ceiling trying to keep the tears at bay. And it wasn’t working.

Weak sensitive piece of shit. 

What good were you to the team if you cry in the bathroom like a baby every time something remotely stressful happens? People usually cry when they're in pain or when they’re grieving - the only excuse you had was you were stressed or sad. 

You felt another few tears escape and you angrily swiped them away, cursing yourself for being so weak. 

You hated this, you hated yourself. You were so numb most of the time, especially when you were alone. You found yourself alone in your room with racing thoughts feeling like you were falling apart. Yet when you were alone you could only stare at the ceiling wondering if it would get any worse. 

The answer was usually yes.

Whenever you would go on missions with the team, you were able to push aside your stress. You had a job to do and you would do it. But when the mission was over and you were walking back through the rubble - seeing all the blood, destruction, fear - then it would start to get to you. You would panic, you would feel tears cloud your vision. Tears for those you were leaving behind, and those who had nowhere to go, those who lost someone. That was understandable. 

It seemed to affect you more than the others though. It was understandable to be moved by so much destruction. But for you everyone felt like someone you had known and loved. 

You could feel the grief in those left behind, feel the sadness and pain that they were going through. 

The same was true when you weren’t on missions. When those who were on them would come back. Whether they were injured or their eyes were saddened - you knew when a mission was rough. You would listen, you would be there for people. It was easy to talk to you, and you were very wise. 

But it still overwhelmed you. You couldn’t say no, you didn’t want to. You wanted to help but it would be so emotionally taxing for you. So behind closed doors, you would break. Be there for others, listen when they need to talk, others come first - you took their emotional pain onto yourself. 

You were grateful that you could help - but in the process it was hurting you. 

You allowed yourself to feel sad when you were alone in your room. No one could see you be weak in the dark of your room. But you never cried much just from the pure exhaustion of your thoughts. Sometimes you wanted to, just feeling so incredibly empty that you just wanted to have an ugly crying session curled up in bed.

But you didn’t get to make that choice.

The crying wouldn’t come until the absolute worst times. If you had messed up on a mission, if Tony said something a little too harshly because to him everything was a joke, seeing something gruesome on a mission- whenever it came to someone else getting involved, the tears would come. Hell sometimes even being overwhelmed in public would be enough to start the waterworks. 

You always felt so fucking weak for it. The slightest environmental stressor could stress you out too much and move you to tears. You had no reason to be upset most of the time. But you would get angry at yourself for being upset, which would make you more upset that you couldn’t control it, making it harder to control.

It was a vicious cycle.

Lately it had been popping up more and more recently. Smaller things were upsetting you more than usual. You were becoming more sensitive to external stimuli and as a result, you spent as much time as you could in your room. You were embarrassed by yourself. Both by your emotions and by your inability to control them. 

This time you were just upset that you were upset. It had been a long night the day prior, just a lot of paperwork to do. There had been a mission earlier this week that you hadn’t been assigned to, but it had been brutal for everyone who had gone. So far today had been a normal day by anyone’s terms, an emotionally exhausting one for you. One of those where you woke up tired and the thoughts of another day were enough to draw you to tears. Nothing had even happened, but apparently nothing needed to happen. 

Your emotions came and went without your consent. 

You knew deep down it was probably some sort of emotional build up - that whole quote about bottling things up until they got to be too much - it happened every time but you still thought you could handle yourself better than that. You didn’t want to vent or be a problem to anyone. But when you are the emotional support for most of the team and you haven’t been able to get enough sleep or take time for yourself - you didn’t have much of a say as to when the bottle overflows.

A few more tears fell and you slammed your hand on the counter, wiping your tears angrily once more. “God fucking damn it why can’t you just stop fucking crying!” you exclaimed, feeling a few more tears falling “Weak piece of shit!” 

There was knocking on the door, pulling you out of your self deprecating thoughts. You gasped lightly, wiping your face again. 

Knock knock

You jumped a little, gasping slightly. No one was supposed to be here, it was the middle of the night. 

“Y/n? What’s going on in there? Are you alright?”

You took a shaky breath. Of course it would be Bucky who heard you. Why would it be anyone else?

“I’m fine Bucky, it’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Then why are you still awake?” Bucky responded. You heard him sigh a little outside the door. “Come out here and tell me you’re okay.”

“Really Bucky?”

“Unless you want me to come in there, but I don’t think Stark would appreciate me breaking your door.”

You took a small breath and walked over to the door, opening it. You crossed your arms and met Bucky’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed, taking in your appearance. Red eyes, flushed face, your hair was messy - you were definitely crying. He hated when you wouldn’t admit that you weren’t ok. “You know you don’t have to be, right?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep fresh tears from clouding your vision. “What?”

“You say you’re fine, you always say that you’re fine until you break. I heard you crying, I can see that you’re not feeling okay yet still you try to keep a brave face. And I just want you to know that you don’t have to always be okay.”

You let out a breath. “I - i…” you looked down and shook your head, lost for words. 

“Y/n, I’m not here to judge you. Can you try to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you said looking up at him “It’s literally so stupid, Bucky.”

“Y/n, nothing you say right now is going to sound stupid. 

You shrugged your shoulders, still not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t know, I just get so worked up sometimes, but it’s stupid. I tell myself I’m not going to be bothered and then I freak out again. The smallest things bother me and I get stressed out and then I cry like some stupid weak bitch. People have it worse than me, God, you have it worse than me. Everyone here has some sort of traumatic awful thing happen to them and then there’s me and I get sad because I see other people sad,” you were crying again and you wiped at your face, covering your eyes. “God Im so fucking stupid I -”

Bucky pulled you into his chest as you let out a sob. “You’re not stupid, y/n.”

“YES I AM. I get worked up over the smallest shit, I don’t listen when people tell me to take breaks, I take everything too personally and I can’t stop fucking crying when I don’t even know what the fuck is wrong!” you exclaimed, trying to push yourself away, ashamed.

Bucky held you tightly, not letting you go. “That’s not your fault. It’s not up to you how your feelings show up.”

“But I cry at the most stupid shit and I can’t control it.”

“You’re not supposed to know how to control it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Emotions can’t be controlled. They just happen and it’s rarely convenient.”

“Then why do I feel so weak? If this,” you gestured to yourself “is so goddamn normal then why isn’t everyone else breaking down every other day?” 

Bucky brushed some hair out of your face. “Your emotions are yours, no one else’s. No one has the right to tell you how to feel. Think of it this way - you can’t expect everyone to have the same amount of strength or stamina - no one has the same emotional response either. And that doesn’t make you weak, it makes you you.”

You shook your head. “I just feel so weak all the time.” 

“And I’m here to remind you that crying isn’t weak. You are not a weak person, you are not a bad person, you’re not any of those things your mind tells you. You’re a kind and thoughtful person. You put your heart into everything you do. You help everyone you can. Mourning someone else’s loss isn’t weakness. It’s called empathy.”

You took a small breath. “Then why does it hurt so goddamn much?”

“”I don’t know. And I can’t say for certain that you won’t always feel that way. But I know I can tell you that you aren’t weak, and I’ll be here every time you feel that you are.” 

You nodded your head slightly. “You don’t think I’m weak?” you asked quietly.

He pulled you back into a hug. “Not in the slightest, y/n.”

[ruby-whistler]

Alright curious anon here. All this is /dsmp /rp from here on out unless otherwise specified and is refering to characters. If i make any mistakes or am misinformed please let me know! So by the cat was nothing compared to mushroom henry i was meaning more toward the fact that the cow was killed as a punishment for something not worth or ok for it to be killed for at all and the fact that it belonged to tommy, wheareas the cat was killed more to annoy dream and belonged to tommy. (1/?)

alright then another lengthy reply, here i come! /lh /dsmp /rp

Dream also did not seem to mourn the cat much, shrugging it off with a "just more motivation to break out".

it was killed to hurt dream, not to "annoy him". it doesn't matter who it belonged to, c!dream was attached to it and it died, which had an effect on him and also further proved his point about attachments being weakness and caring getting you hurt, and it's still very sad.

you say that it was not ok at all to kill mooshroom henry, but the cat's death wasn't ok either, so i really don't see your point.

again, i disagree it was "nothing compared to" either way. i never meant to compare them in the first place, i was simply talking about the cat and c!dream so i don't see why it is in any way necessary to drag c!tommy and other dead pets into this. /nm

also, it isn't true he didn't mourn it. he is a very reserved person who doesn't show his feelings much, that's true, but the cat death still changed the way he acted afterwards, as well as the attempts he made to prevent it. he didn't "shrug it off", he yelled about it because he was understandably upset.

You mentioned that propganda was used to make dream seem like a tyrant, could you specify a bjt? Cus im a little confused srry /gen. Because the most i can remember from the lmanburg era at least is him being called a b'tch or other similar insults. You also mentioned how trauma responses can be differet which is true! I agree! Do you have any ideas to what caused dream the trauma?

wilbur would continuously make him out to be some sort of oppressive, tyrannical force, in front of his troops - a prime example of this being the lyrics of the l'manberg anthem itself and the l'manberg declaration of independence.

actually! here's a nice thread about l'manberg's establishment complete with links, timestamps and evidence :]

i also said in my previous post what could've possibly caused it, but since the character intentionally hides his emotions from the public, it would be difficult to see how things really affected him - which is why the way his spiral went is the majority of the evidence that would imply it, however it does make sense within the story as well with what i mentioned last time.

I would like to note that for sapnap at least had reason to leave dream. Some examples off the top of my head are dream leading an angry fundy to sapnap's pets on purpose, resulting in some deaths, dream assisting tommy in burning down sapnap's effiel tower where he got engaged to karl, and dream giving tommy either mars or the other fish at the battle of the lake. Idk about george tho other then the whole mexican lmanburg/el rapids thing and decrowning him

c!sapnap was actually at fault for most of this, and it wasn't really ever betrayal on c!dream's part.

c!dream is a mediator and he wants to stop everyone's conflict - c!fundy was angry because of c!sapnap's actions, and hence it made more sense for c!dream to centre him on c!sapnap's animals instead of running around killing everyone's pets (at that time, all c!dream knew was c!sapnap did something really bad and c!fundy wanted beckerson / mars from him, which were also his and c!george's fish).

c!sapnap was an instigator, and in multiple conflicts during the time as well as before he'd align himself against c!dream. he isn't "loyal" per se, he causes chaos and the reason c!dream helped c!tommy was because, c!sapnap, again, killed his pet. the first l'manberg war and then the 16th are signs of the fact that c!dream and c!sapnap were willing to fight together in actual war, but these small conflicts where c!sapnap continuously picked fights weren't about personal loyalty, nor did they seem to affect their relationship at all.

c!george was never really hurt by c!dream either. the dethronement was him very obviously being a guilt-trippy drama queen, but, well, that's just the character. he had stolen the l'mantree while he was supposed to be the diplomatic figure of the greater smp, which is why c!dream was justified in - very politely, may i mention - taking the duties off of him (seeing as he was also trying to keep him safe and c!techno had already assassinated him once).

Im pretty sure i remember cc!sam stating that his character never canonically physically tortured dream during his subathon but take this with a grain of salt as i am looking for the clip currently. So to the best of my knowledge dream did not have a physical contact trigger during tommy's visit which! I rewatched the vod and dream actually was first to hit tommy and i can give you my full writing downs but 10/12 of the phy-

you never finished this point because you had to go do something, but i'll reply to what is here at the moment (i suggest writing these down before sending next time, or even writing them out wholly before sending a single one could help avoid stuff like this).

i am 95% sure that the reason cc!sam stated this was because people were suspicious he had already been doing what c!quackity was doing after - torture within the storyline itself is associated pretty much only with what c!quackity is doing, so that's what he meant, just to clear up confusion - the starvation or terrible conditions haven't been retconned, but it was direct torture (like c!quackity is doing) people were asking him about.

i never said c!dream had a physical contact trigger at all, i don't think he had that, though he probably will after the torture.

huh, ok, i'm gonna have to rewatch then, but i remember c!tommy punching c!dream a lot and him just telling him to stop and only punching back to get him to stop. trigger or not, getting hit isn't very pleasant, if you know what i mean.

You mentioned tommy stealing dream's armor unprovoked. Do you have the vod or a general idea of the time so i can find it? Like before lmanburg after another event so and so because if you do not have it i can find it but any help is appreciated.

i am pretty sure you can find the video on cc!tommy's channel! there are also recaps of the disc war on youtube :]

I wanna talk a little on why the Final Control Room was so messed up. For starters, with the way the room was designed. It was small, and had labeled, empty chests with each person's name on them as a mockery. The next reason is that its bascially a kill box.

It's fairly inescapble with the stairs being ones you have to jump up, slowing anyone who climbs them down. The final reason it is messed up is that it is shown to have caused every person who died in it trauma. With tommy there are several examples, the time he saw it with techno, the way he refuses to go near it, the exposure trauma, etc. Fundy also appears to have trauma, as when the Red Banquet executions began, it can be seen as him being afraid of dying last again.

It can Be thought as tubbo having trauma because he buries most of his issues and pretends to be ok. Moreover this event took at least one of each person's canon lives, making it the most canon lives lost EVER in a dream smp event. (This is not hate on any of the ccs btw i loved this scene and its one of my personal favorites). Plus the fact Eret's betrayal just literally happened, giving at least Tommy and Wilbur canonic trust issues.

i wouldn't call the chests mockery? it was a trap. people had traps on the smp before. it was a trap in the middle of war, supposed to end said war by killing them all at once rather than individually which would be a lot more bloody and difficult.

i agree c!tommy and other people might have post-war trauma, especially if they were young during the time, but i think that's because the final control room was "messed up", moreso because the war itself was. it all happened fairly instantly as well? i don't think c!fundy would be able to realize he was the last one standing within the two second before he wasn't.

it "can be thought" and it can be interpreted like that but besides c!tommy there isn't much evidence for them "all" being traumatized by the final control room. of course betrayal would spark trust issues, i understand that.

The probation was humiliating in my opinion because dream was Sending tommy anatgonizing messages through out the whole meeting, plus he had to write a review of his day every single day, which fundy mocked him for.

i mean, it was definitely a strike to his pride, but he was being extremely uncooperative so i don't really blame the other members of new l'manberg trying to teach him to listen for once? of course i know c!dream was riling him up, and that should definitely be considered. i don't think it would be as humiliating if c!tommy didn't make it, is what i'm saying.

for the tommy being toxic to fundy? At least for the examples you gave, to me personally they come acoross as either in a meta way being the cc's bantering or in canon being the characters having banter. If you can send the post with the clips so i can read the tone better that would be cool but if not i will try and find em.

no, these were all in canon. canon isn't only when c!tommy is being nice, it's also when he's being a jerk. /lh

the first one was him threatening c!fundy about kicking him out of l'manberg and undermining his self-worth, and the second one was him trying to get c!sapnap to vote for them via bullying c!fundy.

i found these from a transcript focusing on c!fundy's character, so i don't know exactly where the first one is from, but the second one i am pretty sure is from when the elections were starting with the whole cabinet battle deal and all of that.

there are other instances, and all of them are canon. his personality was never being nice or compassionate, so i'm not really surprised? he still cares about the people he cares about and is very brave, y'know. but this part of his personality is definitely a valid reason for people to dislike him.

I hope the exam went well :). Hope u have a great day! (Ps i think theres something called a submission box to send in pictures? Am not entirely sure sry)

it would've gone well but my work-speed is a tad too slow for the schooling system (considering i'm three years younger than my classmates,,, probably that's also a factor) so probably not despite the fact i knew everything and would've aced it if i only had more time. i did as well as i could so i'm not worried about it, but thanks!

i think you're thinking submissions. sadly, i tested it and it doesn't work on anons, so idk how you'd solve that, maybe make a burner account?

Curious anon here one point you may wanna include in the redemption essay is that c!tubbo or c!tommy do not necessarily have to forgive him. What's important is that he recognizes what he did was wrong (exile, beating tommy to death, manipulating them both, etc) and does his best to make amends. Hope this helps! Can't wait to see your essay

it's out, idk if you've seen it yet, and i think i included enough of that so hope it's all good! :)

the mcc update video is out if you are an mcc enjoyer. It's very neat, if you wanna check it out

yeah! i am a fellow mcc enjoyer, saw it already, thanks for telling me though, i'm really hype for today.

Allo curious anon here sorry if the lots of asks bother you. I was just curious if i could share an interesting post i saw today about c!dream :0 (not necessarily negative i think? More of a statement of an often-confused canon)

sure thing! i don't know what you mean by often-confused since, the entire fanbase is very confused always, and often selection bias plays into the perception from both sides, but sure :]

you also sent in a thing for the other anon who said they didn't know what c!dream did that bad; pretty sure they couldn't really be alerted since, not sure if they watch my blog that closely, but i'll summarize your points just in case and add some notes;

the repeated blowing up of l'manberg (in my mind that's largely a positive since i,, despise that country, but fair enough), revealed c!ranboo as a traitor (they seem to be friends so i also,, think that might've been planned between him and enderboo), sent ghostbur away (i don't think c!dream knew it was dangerous for him and wanted to actually hurt him, but idk), participated in fighting against c!sapnap when he killed people's pets (that's only negative against c!sapnap and didn't seem to hurt him much at all), and then the whole vault scene where he was allegedly planning to steal people's things (though saying he would & being stopped beforehand and doing it are two different things, frankly).

so i still agree with the other anon that a lot of the hurt he did "to the entire server" (he only negatively interacted with like,, a half of them) is exaggerated both by the characters and the fandom, but i guess that's a consequence of most people seeing him as a threat to everyone's happiness rather than a complex personality.

Also he was aware of the butcher army going to kill techno but only got involved because he saw an opportunity to get a favor. (As he knew in advance due to him telling techno to get a totem, watching from afar instead of interveing or manipulating tubbo out of it)

i don't understand this at all, i'm sorry. how do you know he only helped techno in order to get a favor? last i remember he was only doing it to protect and strengthen his alliance, and techno came up with the whole favor thing entirely on his own. you might've not watched techno's perspective or their prior interactions, idk, but this really is a misinterpretation in my eyes. /nm

sorry if that is overly dream negative i just wanted to let yall know cus you seemed unaware -curious anon

nah dw, i watch the smp and i watched all of these things happen so, wouldn't say unaware, but thanks.

[oikawasass]

i rlly couldnt get this idea out of my head so im pausing my prompt writing to do this. its also 4am and this is uneditied so sorry for any typos or grammar issues.

snapchat memories.

‣ pairing: bakugou x fem reader.

‣ drabble.

‣ synopsis: they always say you should never go through old photos after a breakup.

‣ warnings: swearing, light angst.

a loud grunt came from the blonde as he crashed down onto his matress, rubbing his face tiredly.

he stared up at his blank ceiling, zoning out into the white surface. katsuki had felt off all day, though he wasn’t able to put his finger on exactly why. he just felt...like he was forgetting something important.

today...what the fuck is today?

shitty hair’s birthday? no, thats not for another month...

parents aniversarry? no, i never remember when that is anyway...

today...fuck! what the hell is today!

pulling him out of his thoughts was the small ping of his cellphone. bakugou took his hands off his face and groaned in annoyance for the nth time, reaching to grab his phone out of his pocket while ready to chew out whoever had decided to bother him.

snapchat: (1) new notification.

opening the app, he expected to see his groupchat going off as it always did, or kaminari sending him some wack ass pictures he’d taken to avoid studying.

memories: 1 year ago today!

the thumbnail of the small slideshow was a picture of him, with his arm around his now ex girlfriend, (name.)

thats when it dawned on him, exactly what today was.

it would have been their one year.

katsuki gulped, sucking in a breath of air before tapping the screen, opening up the folder of photos and beginning to click through them.

it was some of the photos they took while on one of the many dates the two went on. the one showing up on the screen happened in the downtown, after the couple had spent most of the day trying out different food trucks and various small shops in the area.

it was the day he’d finally decided to ask her to be his girlfriend. the sixth of october, last year.

the photos hadn’t actually been taken by katsuki, but rather by (name) asking to take a few on his phone.

one picture popped up in particular that inevitably made bakugou’s mood drop.

the photo was taken from a lower angle by (name,) who was hugged up against the blonde’s chest, while bakugou had an arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her there. his chin was rested right atop her head as he looked at something out of frame, while (name) puckered her lips and snapped the picture.

that was bakugou’s phone lockscreen for the entire ten months they were together.

the night evolved from looking back at a few photos, to albums, to old archived social media posts, text messages, videos, anything he had saved from their first date to their breakup.

he scrolled for hours, staying up way past the time he usually liked to go to bed. he completely lost track of time, getting lost in the old memories of when thinfs seemed so much more simple. he had a gentle smile on his face the whole time, despite the growing pit in his stomach.

katuski finally came back to his senses upon a battery warning popping up on his screen. with a deep sigh he turned the cell off, throwing it onto his pillow and rolling back onto his stomach.

why had the even broken up in the first place? sure they had issues, but every couple did. it was nothing that couldn’t be sorted out, right?

wrong.

bakugou, now sitting alone in his room and reminiscing was able to realize that their problems were much more deep rooted than he’d previously believed, constantly ignoring the suffocating question: “was this all my fault?”

he started to neglect their relationship at the start of their second year, getting wrapped up in his school work and hero training like he always did. that was okay, (name) always understood that his life long goal would come first to a highschool relationship.

it was the way he went about it that slowly brought them to their downfall.

rather than saying he’d be back at the dorms late, or couldn’t carry out the plans they’d made because he had extra work to do, he’d begun to ignore the girl, or blow her off completely without a word.

this of course, lead to (name) becoming extremely fed up with the reoccurring behavior, and it showed in her much more snappy attitude and temper.

they fought, they argued, they hit eachother in their weak points to make the other upset, the couple did nothing but fight, fight, fight.

bakugou was the one who said he was finished with the whole thing one night in a rather nasty argument. he stormed out after, and they hadn’t spoken since. kirishima got any of bakugou’s belongings from (name,) and mina got any of (name’s) belongings from bakugou. the two refused to utter a word to eachother now, its been that way for two months without break.

katsuki came to realize the pit that had been growing in his stomach was guilt. he felt bad for ending things the way he did, being childish and neglectful, and he missed her.

letting his head fall to the right, he stared at his phone, the angel and devil on each of his shoulders arguing back and forth.

text her.

no, dont text her are you fucking stupid?

but i feel like an asshole.

you’re gonna be even more of an asshole if you text her right now. and its midnight? it’ll look like a booty call.

well im gonna text her anyway.

dont fucking text her.

but i want to.

but you shouldnt.

text her.

dont text her!

bakugou reached out and grabbed his phone, opening up his text messages and clicking on her contact.

bakugou

| 00:12: hey.

bakugou

| 00:12: can we talk?

[ac3id]

Redamancy. iii

Redamancy (n.) The act of loving in return.  

pairings: mirio togata x female reader

warnings: 18+, noncon, yandere themes, breeding kink n mirio is a scumbag. 

a/n: ahaha im reposting this cus  algorithm was effed the first time i posted. ehehehe or maybe im just unlucky-- n e way this will be the last of redamany!! 

word count: 1950 

navigation  ☼ 

←  part i, ii

Mirio's gaze turned to you, sky blue eyes stared at how you sipped on your drink. Your glossy, pink stained lips puckered around the straw. Was that a new shade? You had never put something like that on before. Probably tasted like strawberries or cherries, "Mirio!" your voice drove him out his thoughts. You stood in front of him, your hands at your hip, "What are you thinking about?" Mirio felt his cheeks heat up.

'I was thinking about you sucking my dick, do you mind?'

"Nothing, we should get going. Lunch's bout' to get over soon." He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the school building, you almost trip over your feet, "Hey! Slow down!" You bump into his chest which was hard as rock making your head sting a little, "You're a klutz," he laughs. "It's your fault!" you retort, he pats your head and continues laughing. He takes a good look at you, drinking your uniform clad body. The short skirt displaying your plush thighs. His mind melts away in sinful thoughts, thinking about all what he can do to you. He once again realizes how much smaller you are compared to him. His entire hand can literally cover your face, he can easily pick you and throw you over his shoulder.

What is stopping him? Seriously?

His smile drops when he catches you staring at him. The guy he beat up months ago and threatened to stay out of your life. You were staring at him chatting away, giggling with some nameless girl. He studied your sully expression, your eyes looked sad, and lip turned into a sad pout; he could tell you were upset and that pissed him off. Why did you still think about him? Why did you still care about that jerk? Didn't you move on yet?

Mirio felt himself get riled up from the same rage he had felt the first time he had seen you with this man. The frustration, anger, and jealousy all came surging back to him as he realized that you obviously did not feel the same way about him as he did about you. Maybe he'll have to do more than just be nice to get you to understand he's the one for you, the one and only.

He would show you who you belong to. You will get what is coming.

"Hey, what's wrong? You coming?" His hand rested on your shoulder, he gripped on it a little tighter.

Mirio walked into an empty classroom which echoed soft sobs and sniffles. You sat on your seat, your head resting on the desk as you cried. Mirio's face paled and he rushed to you, wrapping his arms around you pulling your upper half to his chest he rubbed your head. "It's okay now, I am here," he whispered into your ear, shushing you. "What happened?" he asked after you had calmed down.

"Why are you still here?"

"I came to get you, now, what happened?" you gulped before answering, feeling the lump in your throat rise as your voice cracked. "Why?"

Mirio was confused, what were you on about? "Am I not good enough? Why did he leave me?" tears roll down your cheeks, lip trembling your breathing turns uneven. Mirio frowns, his hands clenching into an fist he pulls away from the hug.

You were thinking about him, obviously. He moves in front of you grabbing your jaw, his big fingers squish your tiny cheeks. Your eyes widened in horror as he pulls your face closer to him, his elbows resting on the desk separating the two. He looks down at you, his eyes bored into yours with malice, "Mirio you're-" "Shut the fuck up." he snapped.

"You want to know why he left you? Why did your precious little pretty boy leave you?" you were too scared to answer, you didn't get to anyways since he blurted the out the answer in burning rage "Because. I fucking told him to stay away from you. Got it?" Your eyebrows knit together and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, in a blink on eye he had become so different. He had snapped, you felt betrayed. The Mirio you knew would never be this rough with you, but maybe you were to blame. Deep down you knew. You were very much aware. Mirio liked you even after your breakup but you never asked, thinking it was better that way but not in a million years did you ever think that Mirio would snap and come for your soul.

"I fucking beat him up. You know why I did that?" he asked again. His voice was menacing, he was shouting at you and you were scared. "Answer me! You fucking ungrateful bitch!" You  flinched and started whimpering, a weak no left your trembling lips, "It's because you're mine." he spat, he waited for you to say something but you were still trying to process his words. It was a lot to take in, you couldn't believe that Mirio would ever do something like that. You wanted to think this was a joke but no, he was dead serious.

The ray of sunshine, the great hero to be, Mirio Togata was a scumbag, no. He was worse.

You started releasing the situation you were in, there was no doubt, he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you too. The flight or fight instinct kicked in and you tried to free your face from his grasp. After successfully freeing yourself from his chains you got up from the desk and made a run for the door. Mirio stared at you in disbelief, his eyes wide and lips curled upwards he internally laughed at your foolishness. Wasting no time, he quickly got behind you capturing your wrist and pulling you back to his chest. A large hand wrapped around your waist, keeping you securely pinned to his torso.

You were so stupid. Did you seriously think you could get away from him? He is twice your size.

"Where are you going?" he pulled both your hands behind your back and held them there with one hand, the other snaked down under your skirt, "Mirio don't do this. I won't tell anyone. Please let me go." you begged your voice shaky as big, fat teardrops rolled down your cheek. "What will you tell them? They won't believe you and besides," his fingers inched towards your core, you squirmed and wailed. His fingers rubbed against your clothed slit, pressing against your clit sending shameful jolts of pleasure throughout your body. "I will scream," you whispered before breaking into soft sobs. He was going to rape you in your own classroom and there was nothing you could do against it. With no quirk to protect yourself, you knew physically overpowering him was a dream. You just prayed that he would leave you.

"You're gonna' scream?" he scoffed, his tone was cocky- ridiculing you. "Go ahead, scream," his fingers rubbed harder against your clothed cunt as he waited for you to scream. The scream never came and Mirio started, "You're getting wet down here, you know. You like this?" pushing away your panties to the side, he let his finger graze over your sensitive folds a content sigh following right after. "You're really wet. I think I can just slide it in."

He dipped two of his fingers into your cunt while rubbing your clit with his thumb. "What do you want?" you cried as his huge fingers drilled into your small, tight pussy. "What do I want? I want you to know you're mine. Only mine." he growled in your ear. "But I guess you don't realize that. Do you? Don't worry after I knock you up you won't be able to leave me, maybe then you'll understand." your lips fell agape, and eyes widened threatening to pop right out of your sockets, "N-no pleasee don't do that. P-please-" Mirio pushed you towards the teacher's desk, bending you over it. Your face pressed against the cold wood yet you keep whimpering, begging him to let you free but he doesn't care. He's not listening.

He flips your skirt over leaving your ass a sight to his wretched eyes. He brings his hand down spanking it then pulling away to watch how your plump flesh jiggles, he chuckles. "I should beat this pretty little ass purple and blue," he talks to himself, completely disheartening your cries for help. He smacks your ass until he's satisfied- until your bottom blooms red and his palm stings. Mirio wastes no time in getting behind you, his hand still pinned both of yours behind your back. He slowly releases them, "Now. No funny business," he warns. He knows you wouldn't try anything, you couldn't; not in this state.

One of his hands grips your waist tightly while the other kneads your ass, "Ah shit, look at that." he whispers. "It's beautiful but it's not enough." He is quick to pull your panties down to your thighs and spread your legs open. You hold on to the edges of the desk as you feel his fingers run up your slit and dip into your hole.

"Cute, little cunt. All mine."

His length comes free from its confines and hits his stomach. It's long, hard, and big- so big. You had it impale you before multiple times but it had always been a stretch. His cock was just too big for your tiny pussy! His tip teased your entrance. Your hole drooling over it, he hissed. "I am going to knock you up. You won't be leaving me after that." He pushed inside slowly marveling at how your cunt sucked him up so eagerly, your mouth opened into a silent scream as he bottomed out. He didn't give you time to adjust to his size, he kept rutting his hips. He thrust his cock deep inside you hard and fast, swollen balls slapping against your clit making you moan. The sinful sound of sex: his hips hitting your rear, grunts and moans resonate through the room while you stayed there, under him feeling embarrassed, betrayed, and humiliated. Yet you could not ignore the pleasure he was giving you. His cock hit deep inside you, his tip kissing your cervix trying its best to sink past the rim, your cries of agony soon turned into frenzied moans.

You were close to cumming, he could tell by how tightly your precious cunt clenched around his hard length pulling him even deeper, squeezing him trying to milk him for all he's worth. "I feel that..gonna' fill you up," he says in between his grunts. Mirio tightened his grip on your hips as you started squirming beneath him, the coil in your stomach ready to burst and moment. "You're close, baby?" You whined refusing to give in, "Aww, it's fine. Just admit it: you're mine and I'll let you cum." His thrusts slowed down denying to give you satisfaction, you wailed at the loss yet you didn't agree with him. You were to give in, you told yourself but your body didn't agree. It needed Mirio and just like that it had taken over your mind, clouded your mind with nothing but lust and him. As the need for release increased, you screamed. "Ah- fuck. Yes! I am all yours- ah!" he steadied his rhythm and you exploded all over his cock. Creaming around him, your juices flowed down to your legs. Mirio length twitched inside of you, his thrusts became sloppy- he was close.

"Yeah damn fucking right. Good girl." he praised before spilling his seed inside your womb, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out and watched how his cum dripped from your abused pussy only to push it back inside with his finger. "You actually did it..." your voice was meek, head still down and body still bent over the desk. Too weak to get up, you started at the floor beneath you with glassy eyes. Mirio pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you tightly, making sure you don't run away. The hug was warm, in any other case it would have been warm and comforting but not anymore.

"This would not have happened, Y'know. It's your fault for being such a bitch."

Right, of course, you should have been smarter. You should have loved him back when you could have.

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[fuwahiko]

NOT ME TAKING LITERAL DAYS TO FIGURE OUT HOW MUCH BACKSTORY I WANTED TO GIVE THIS AND ACCIDENTALLY CLOSING THE APP AND LOSING WHAT I HAD WHEN I WAS FINALLY GETTING SOMEWHERE I-

Im a disaster but i finally got my head on straight alright HERE'S SOME OUMOTA FOR YA

SO. The V3 kids have gone on the town to hang out. Why? They were sick of always going to Amami's house. They needed a change of scenery. What are they doing? Karaoke? Bowling? Who knows. But they're all making fun of each other.

Their collective love language towards each other is bullying.

At some point, a lot of people get hungry. Miu, for some ungodly reason, yells at Kokichi to go and order for them. And bring the food down when it's done. For some even ungodlier reason, Kokichi agrees. Without an argument. Not even an insult.

He does kiss Kaito while flipping everyone off before walking off, but now everyone's scared of what the gremlin's planning. Only Kaito's safe if Kokichi's got something planned. Boyfriend priveleges work...sometimes.

With Kokichi, he's waiting for everyone's food when someone shouts his name...or something close to it. Intrigued, he turns around and immediately tenses up. But only slightly.

It his ex-boyfriend. Kokichi never wanted to see this ex (who i call Fuckface McAsshole) again. It wasn't healthy, and when he tried to break it off, said ex lost it and dragged shit out for a week and a half. Kokichi was about to turn and rush towards Kaito and the others, because safety in numbers (plus Kaito could throw a mean punch), but the ex got there first. He had also accidentally left his phone on the table with the others.

There was no calling for help. Kokichi was stuck.

So he was forced to play the long game. He didn't wanna make a scene in such a public place. He let his ex talk and talk and talk while retaining none of what he was saying. When the ex noticed Kokichi wasn't listening, he commented. ("...why aren't you listening to me, Ko? Got somewhere better to be? With people that actually want you around? Fucking doubt it.")

When he hears that, Kokichi snaps. Not completely, but enough to get snappy

"Actually, my friends and boyfriend are waiting on their food. I'm here to get their food. And I can't hear the person calling out numbers because of your blabbering. So be quiet."

Kokichi knew he shouldn't have snapped. He knew as soon as his ex's eyes widened, then narrowed. He'd never admit it, but that look made him slightly nervous.

From there, everything escalates very quickly. Quicker than Kokichi anticipated. It's about to get real ugly in two seconds. And everyone's going to hear and stare at whatever's going to go down.

......soooooo now i hand it off to you. What exactly happens between Kokichi and his ex? How do the V3 kids find out about all this, and how do they react? How does Kokichi react after that fiasco? And what do they all (extra emphasis on Kaito bc Oumota) do to try and comfort and/or cheer up Kokichi after THAT?

(Did i listen to "Happier than Ever" by Billie Eilish when i thought of this...maybe i did and maybe i didn't. You can't prove anything.)

this is a really interesting scenario! kokichi feeling so backed up into a corner like that is certainly unusual, for one thing.

ok ok so I like the idea of like, kokichi trying to work on himself a lot. dude needs therapy. and in this au I can see it being the case that kokichi has been working through stuff a lot and has managed to become so close with everyone because of that - like I'm sure in a non despair au he wouldn't be quite so... ~the way that he is~ anyway, but he'd likely still have a lot of issues and struggle to get along with everyone at first, but then with some encouragement from someone he trusts and gets along with more (kaito? maybe someone else? maybe it's more of a slowburn with him getting closer to kaito?) he'd eventually start going to therapy and start slowly working on himself, as well as starting over with some people he maybe started off on the wrong foot with before. it might take some time, but eventually even the people that really didn't get along with him start to open up a little and try to understand him more, and he does the same for them. everyone sees how hard kokichi is trying, and he's really changing for the better, and that inspires them to work on themselves too and it brings everyone a lot closer.

so. when kokichi's ex shows up, it stirs all of this awfulness inside of him, all of this bitterness. it ends up starting to pull at the worst things within kokichi, trying to bring it all to the surface, and kokichi is trying his hardest to stop himself from saying something horrible, from making a scene, from making every stranger in the area turn to look at him with that look that makes him want to disappear. he's trying so hard not to fall back into old habits and old behaviours; he's been working so hard and finally things are looking up for once.

but then he slips up.

he knew he shouldn't have said anything, but his ex wasn't going to leave him alone anyway, and suppressing his own emotions was getting too difficult, so he had to do something. but now his ex was glaring at him even more than before, and kokichi could feel the rage radiating from him, and he immediately regretted ever opening his mouth. but he'd already come this far, and his ex had backed him so far into the corner that all kokichi could do was bite back just as hard.

kokichi's ex raised his voice, and it was like the floodgates had been opened. everything he was saying was blurring together into an endless string of sharp needles that pierced into kokichi, targeting all of his weak points, hurting him over and over, each needle piercing deeper than the last. kokichi snapped back, his own voice just as loud, throwing insult after insult and trying to dig up all that he could think of to hurt him back, trying to find just the right words to hurt his ex even deeper than he had hurt him, all the while a smirk spread across his face as kokichi pretended like he was enjoying himself, enjoying this conflict, but with every word he fired back he only felt more hatred towards himself. it was a form of self destruction, and now that he'd started hurting himself, kokichi didn't know how to stop.

just when kokichi felt like his own self hatred was going to swallow him whole, he half-registered footsteps growing louder just out of view. then, before he knew it, suddenly his ex was being lifted off the ground in front of him.

kokichi's eyes widened as he finally processed what he was looking at. it was kaito. kaito was here and he had grabbed the ex by his shirt and lifted him up, a furious expression spread across kaito's face.

"the fuck are you doing to kokichi?!" kaito practically roared as he held his free hand in a fist.

after maybe a brief moment of relief, kokichi felt fear and panic grab hold of him, and when he met eyes with kaito he seemed to immediately understand exactly what he was feeling.

kaito let go, letting kokichi's ex drop and stumble as he found his footing. "sorry. I wasn't gonna do anything, I didn't mean to scare you." kaito looked ashamed now, and he turned away from kokichi for a moment. kaito had been working on himself a lot too, specifically dealing with anger issues and his tendency to resort to violence when things got hard to deal with, and he'd been making a lot of progress. kaito knew he would've decked this guy if kokichi hadn't looked so upset, and he felt horrible about it. he felt awful that he was just reverting back to his usual ways, and he felt even more awful because he'd made kokichi feel worse, even if only for a second. he felt like such a disappointment. kokichi felt horrible too, and he felt like it was his own fault that kaito had gotten so worked up, that if he'd just dealt with his ex in another way then kaito never would've gotten dragged into this. kokichi had brought the worst out of himself, and now he felt he was doing the same to kaito, pulling him down with him.

just then, security showed up and asked them to leave. kokichi and kaito both had the thought of telling them that the ex was the problem and that they'd just been going about their day until he started shit, but neither of them said anything, just left without making any more fuss. they gave them their money back for the food at least, but now the whole thing had just been a waste.

when they grouped up with the others outside again, kaito holding kokichi's hand as they walked, everyone was chatting and laughing together as they had been doing all day, but they all quickly realised something was up as they saw how shaken kokichi looked and how kaito's face was scrunched up with frustration. of course they'd also seen that the two of them were empty handed, but that wasn't their main concern.

"guys? what's wrong?" kaede rushed over to see them, a look of worry spread across her face. kaito squeezed kokichi's hand a little tighter as he told them all what he'd walked in on. he decided to do the talking himself, knowing kokichi was struggling at the moment and not wanting him to have to explain everything on top of that. he didn't really know what had been happening exactly, but he'd gathered that this guy had been kokichi's ex, and he knew he'd started something with kokichi because he knew that kokichi would never start anything like that himself now.

maki suggested they all move to somewhere quieter, so they headed down a nearby street that lead to an open area with a park that was surrounded by a long wall that was low enough to sit on. kaito sat with kokichi on the wall, pulling him in close at his side and wrapping his arm around him firmly, reassuringly. kaede sat on kokichi's other side, speaking gently and offering to let him borrow her earphones to listen to some music to help him calm down. he refused, but he appreciated the thought. himiko sat on the grass at his feet in silence, but he knew her well enough now to know she was trying her best to support him, even if she didn't know what to say or do. shuichi and maki sat down beside kaito, who was calmer now, but concerned for kokichi and still upset with himself.

"it's all my fault..." kokichi mumbled sadly, his head resting against kaito and his hand clinging onto his shirt. "it's not your fault. he started it, didn't he?" kaito questioned, already knowing the answer. "not that. I mean... I got you involved." kaito ran the hand that was holding kokichi up and down gently along his arm to comfort him, his free hand reaching to stroke his hair. "don't worry about that, that's not your fault at all. I shouldn't have lost my cool. ...sorry again about startling you." kokichi shook his head. kaito felt kokichi's body start shaking, and he realised he was crying. "I'm the worst... I'm the worst, I'm the worst, I'm the worst." kokichi cried as he buried his face further and tried to hide away. "nothing's changed, I'm just as shitty and horrible and worthless as I always have been... I should've just... done things different... but I did the same as I always do..."

of course. kaito finally realised the real reason why he was so upset. sure he was upset over his ex showing up and the nasty things he'd been saying, but now that they were away from him he was more upset with himself than anything, because he'd worked so hard and he felt like none of that work had actually gotten him anywhere. he felt like change wasn't possible, because if he'd reacted that way then to him that surely meant that he was exactly the same as he'd always been, despite how much he'd tried.

"hey. that's not true and you know it." kaito was about to continue, but miu interrupted. "yep, that's bullshit. ha! if you think you're terrible, that guy sounds ten times worse! what a loser." gonta also spoke up, obviously very upset that anyone would raise their voice at his friend. "hmm... that not how gentleman should act. should be polite, even if ex doesn't like you."

"kokichi, we can all see how far you've come and how hard you've been working, so please don't beat yourself up over this one time. that guy is the one at fault, he put you in a difficult position, a really difficult position, and you wouldn't have reacted that way otherwise." kaede reassured him. "she's right, you wouldn't do that unless you felt you had no other choice." shuichi agreed as he handed kokichi some tissues. kokichi had calmed down somewhat, but he needed to get his emotions out still, so everyone waited patiently, offering words of support every so often, kaito still holding him and placing a few kisses on the top of his head, until kokichi stopped crying and pulled away, sitting up and drying his eyes.

angie jumped up off of the grass. "we should do something fun!" rantaro looked up at her from where he was sitting. "you mean like a distraction?" "nyahahaha! yes! doing something fun will help kokichi take his mind off things and feel better!" "do you have something in mind?" kiibo asked. angie thought about it for a moment. "hmm... nope!" rantaro sighed. "we shall just have to think of something, and we should also find somewhere else to eat as well." kirumi said as she stood up, dusting off the front and back of her dress.

ideas began getting thrown around and the atmosphere lightened up quickly - everyone chatting and suggesting fun things to do together, kokichi just quietly listening, but feeling a lot more comfortable again and appreciating his friends' efforts to cheer him up. it wasn't too long before kokichi was joining in, though, and everyone was relieved to see him slowly returning to his usual self; a bit immature, sometimes annoying, but funny, sweet, so full of life. kokichi was someone they'd all grown to love, no matter how things might have started out for some of them with him, and he wasn't at all who he thought he was when he was feeling down on himself. they hoped that one day kokichi would finally understand that.

[malfoymanortings]

somebody else PT 2

SUMMARY: Mae has been in love with Draco Malfoy since her first year at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy fell in love with Mae in their fourth year, and then promptly fell into Pansy’s bed instead. All the while, Mae clings to the hope that Draco will change. That is, until, Ron Weasley takes his chance.

PAIRINGS: toxic!Draco x OC, Ron x OC, Ginny x Luna

im not sure that I like how this turned out, but hopefully you all enjoy it! I was very surprised I got so much positive feedback on that little one shot i posted. thank you all for the love! 

also, let me know if you want to be on the taglist for the next part. 

Perhaps it was her conversation with Ginny the previous night, or perhaps it was because she felt so hollow inside, but Mae resolved herself on confronting Draco. Of course, he didn’t make things easy for her. He never did.

“Pansy and Draco are sitting awfully close, aren’t they?” Blaise said conversationally, taking a sip of his morning coffee. Full of cream, three sugars. As always.

Mae eyed Draco and Pansy warily, noting the way Pansy laughed into Draco, her hand seeming to move onto his leg although it was hidden from the table. “They’re just friends.”

“Rubbish,” scoffed Blaise harshly, stabbing an egg. “You’re much smarter than that, love.”

Pansy took that moment to brush Draco’s hair out of his face, and something broke inside Mae as Draco caught her hand in his own, bringing her knuckles to his lips and ghosting a kiss across them.

“It’s none of your business though, innit?” snapped Mae, slamming her glass of pumpkin juice down so harshly it brought the attention of the entire half of their table, including Draco and Pansy. “If Draco wants to fuck a slut, let him.”

Blaise choked on his eggs, slamming a fist into his chest as he attempted to swallow. Draco tilted his head, a sneer on his face, while Pansy began hurling insults at Mae. 

“Perhaps if you weren’t a filthy half-blood, Draco would be more interested. He wants a real woman.” Pansy declared wickedly, her lips lifted up in a snarl.

“A real woman with real STDs, hm?” retorted Mae, standing up from the table. “Everyone knows you fucked Theodore Nott last week, and he had to go to Madam Pomfrey from whatever you gave him!”

The part about Pansy fucking Theodore Nott was true, although the STD part was not. But Mae was so angry, so fed up with how the both of them were treating her, that she couldn’t contain it anymore. At this point, most of the Great Hall had caught sight of what was happening, although the teachers at least pretended to be oblivious. She caught sight of Ginny grinning at her encouragingly.

“I’m going to be honest with you, because no one else will,” Draco said the words slowly, casually, as though he were speaking of the weather. “Anyone who says they’re interested in you, beyond just fucking you, is a liar.”

Mae felt her cheeks burn, as the Slytherin table began laughing and oohing under their breath, and she rushed out of the Great Hall. She heard footsteps behind her, but she ignored them, until someone tugged harshly on her arm, the rings on his fingers alerting her to who it was.

“Why?” demanded Mae, turning around with unshed tears. An amused Draco stood in front of her, looming over her. “Why do you do this to me?”

Perhaps the question caught him off guard, because Draco replied with “I don’t know.”

Mae let out a strangled sob, wiping her hands harshly down her face. “I just want to be the one you love.”

“Oh darling,” Draco said the words softly, reaching out to caress her cheek. Mae closed her eyes for a moment, and she could pretend everything was fine. “I’ll never love you.”

With those words, Draco shoved her jaw harshly, causing a loud popping noise to sound as pain reverberated through the lower half of her face.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Mae said the words first, opening her eyes to see Draco actually looking.. Hurt, by her words.

“Took you long enough.” 

Mae looked to see Ginny heading her way, her hand intertwined with Luna’s, with the Golden trio, Pansy, and Blaise following close behind.

“We would have never made it anyways.” Draco responded quietly, and Mae felt a bit vindicated to see that he appeared to feel at least partially upset.

“That’s your fault.” her voice shook, but Mae said the words passionately.

“How?” he had the nerve to sound incredulous, and Mae balled up her fists as tears of anger came to her eyes.

“You always cheated on me with Pansy! You treated me like I was your pet, like you could keep fucking around without any care for my feelings!” the words she had been keeping in for so long burst out, and she felt a rush of vindication that she finally got to say them aloud.

Draco scoffed, and any hope of him apologizing or fighting for her went out the window. “You really think I give a shit about you? It’s your loss, Callisto.” he sneered her last name, looking over his shoulder to see the others approaching them.

Mae’s eyes hardened, hatred growing as Pansy ran pathetically over to Draco. “Your whore’s here.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Sorry you don’t know how to keep a man.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be Callisto,” Draco drawled out, slinging an arm over Pansy. “Nobody likes a slut that doesn’t understand when her time is up.”

“What did you just say?” Ron Weasley was the last person Mae expected to speak to Draco after he said those words.

Draco scoffed. “You heard me, Weas-”

Before Draco could get the full word out, Ron’s fist collided with Draco’s delicate features. Mae’s eyes widened as Ron wound his fist back once more, knocking Draco flat on his back. Pansy started screaming, and Blaise started laughing.

“Blaise, help him!” Pansy shrieked, slapping a hand to her mouth in horror.

Blaise sighed, rolling his eyes. He gave Mae a quick look, (perhaps in an apology?) before he gave Ron a swift kick to his stomach. Ron stumbled backwards, falling on his bottom, and Draco lay on the ground clutching his bruised and bloody face.

Pansy promptly threw herself down onto Draco, and Blaise stood there with his arms crossed as though he were just waiting for the show to be over. Mae, on the other hand, had nothing left to say to Draco, and turned her attention to Ron, who had just gotten off the floor with the help of Harry. 

“Thank you,” the words were quiet, but sincere. Ron nodded to her, his eyes not wavering from hers.

“He’s not worth it, yeah?” said Ron, shaking his bruised knuckles. “He never deserved you.’

Mae, suddenly flooded with emotion, just shook her head, and with tears burning in her eyes, she left the scene behind her.

--=--

The hardest thing was seeing Draco be so openly affectionate with Pansy. It broke her, each time she entered the common room to see her sitting on his lap. Getting a kiss on the cheek. A hug. A tender embrace. It burned like hell.

So, she began spending less time in the common room. She began joining Luna and Ginny on their outings, normally in the astronomy tower, and at some point, the Golden Trio started joining them. It became a routine, the six of them hanging out in either the tower or the library, if Hermione got her way. 

On the bright side, her grades had never been better. 

A month after the incident with Draco, Mae found herself feeling the wound particularly harshly. She paced outside the Gryffindor common room, hoping to find Ginny coming out of the portrait hole. Instead, she got Ron Weasley, who didn’t seem all too surprised to find her out there.

“You alright?” Ron asked awkwardly, halfway in the doorframe and halfway out.

Mae shook her head silently, her chest aching. “Not really.”

“How ‘bout we take a way, yeah?” suggested Ron, stepping out of the portrait hole. It swung shut loudly behind him.

Mae shrugged her shoulders, and together they walked in silence. They had no clear destination in mind, and Mae found she felt slightly better having his company around her. Ron, she had found, had a fairly dry sense of humor and it was ever so easy to laugh around him. Sometimes, the others didn’t quite understand the joke, but Mae always did. His humor was similar to hers, if she could just find it again.

“I always wondered,” Ron broke their silence, stopping to sit on a ledge overlooking the black lake. “If the squid really existed.”

“Oh, it does,” Mae assured Ron, hopping up on the opposite side of the stone ledge, wrapping her robe tightly around herself. “Sometimes in the common room, we get to see it swim by.”

Ron’s eyes flashed with admiration. “Wicked.”

“I suppose it might be a bit more exciting than overlooking the grounds,” Mae said the words pretentiously, sniffing as she hid a grin from Ron. “We get to see the inside of the black lake, while you boring Gryffindors just get landscape.”

“At least during winter we haven’t got to sleep under ten blankets just to get by,” protested Ron, bringing a hand up to brush his hair out of his face. “Then again, you might just have an iron deficiency.”

Mae’s eyes widened. “That’s a big word for Ronald Weasley.”

“Hermione mentioned it!” defended Ron, moving his hands as he spoke. “She’s the one who suggested you go to Madam Pomfrey for it! You’re always freezing!”

“It’s a perk of being damaged goods, I suppose.” Mae said the words without much thought, as she had gotten distracted by Ron’s rather large hands moving around.

Ron went still, and he gave Mae a confused look. “Damaged goods?”

Mae’s feelings of inadequacy came back, and she felt the stinging of tears hit her eyes. She tried to play it off, giving a weak laugh. “Well, yeah, what else would you call me?”

“Beautiful,” the word rolled off Ron’s tongue rather quickly, as though he hadn't had to think about it at all. 

Tears slipped out of her eyes as Mae processed his words. How could anyone think she was beautiful? Couldn’t he see how damaged she was? Draco had used her up and thrown her out, and no one else would ever want his seconds. He had told her that many times.

“Don’t,” the words came out wet and wobbly. “Don’t lie to me.”

Ron was rarely serious, but he completely focused on her as he reached out to grab her hand in his large one. “Mae, why would I lie about that?”

The tears came freely now, and she could feel a sob building up in her chest. “Ronald Weasley, don’t you dare sit there and lie to me! Don’t fucking sit there, and tell me I’m beautiful, because I’m not. I’m used up and I’m damaged, I will never be anything beyond that!”

Before she could protest, Ron had pulled her into a hug, engulfing her small frame in his large one. Mae had forgotten what it was like to be embraced like this, and she buried her head into Ron’s wide chest as she cried. In the back of her mind, she understood that was likely having a panic attack. 

“Calm down Mae,” Ron held her close, caressing her hair. “You’ll be alright.”

They sat like that, until Mae’s cries subsided and she took a shaky breath, pulling out of Ron’s embrace. She was suddenly embarrassed that she had overreacted as she did, and a blush stained her wet cheeks.

“‘M sorry about that,” mumbled Mae, wiping her cheeks roughly. “I didn’t mean to make you all soggy.”

Ron laughed at that. “Why would I complain, a beautiful girl cried on me today. Sounds like a win to me!”

Mae hit Ron on his arm for that, a small laugh coming out of her as well. If anything, Ron Weasley knew how to switch the mood. “Don’t be a prat, Weasley.”

Ron’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he tossed his head back in a loud bout of laughter, and Mae found herself staring at his full lips. Really, how had she not noticed how perfectly shaped Ron’s lips were before? And Merlin, how were his teeth so straight and white?

As quickly as she began admiring Ron Weasley, images of silver hair and grey eyes flashed through her mind, and she shut her eyes and swallowed hard. There would never be Draco and Mae, that much was clear. It did not do to dwell on things that would never change.

“Imagine leaving me for a Weasley.”

Mae’s stomach dropped as she saw Draco swaggering towards her and Ron, Blaise close behind him. She hated how she still got butterflies as he eyed her appraisingly, before sneering at Ron.

“Shut it, Malfoy.” snapped Ron, his ears growing pink as he dug in his robes for his wand.

“Oh,” whistled Draco, drawing out the vowel. “Weaselbee is going to show off how big of a man he is. Trust me, Weasel, been there, done that. I’m the best she’ll ever have had.”

“Tell me Malfoy, you ever been hexed so hard you had to fight for your life?” snarled Ron, standing before the silver haired boy and brandishing his wand.

Mae quickly got down from the stone ledge, standing in between Draco and Ron, placing a hand on both of their chests. “Both of you, stop it!”

Ron’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t lower his wand. Draco smirked at the sight of her hand on his chest, his eyes flicking down at it before backup to look her in the eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Mae said the words firmly, glaring at Draco. “We aren’t together anymore. Stop acting like this.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t fight little Weaselbee.” drawled Draco, flexing his fingers on his wand. “I still had you first.”

“And I fucking left you!” shouted Mae, shoving Draco back from her and Ron. “Get that through your thick skull, and go back to Pansy. The bitch you always cheated on me with!”

“You said you loved me.” Draco said the words softly, bitterly, so quickly that Mae almost didn't catch it. 

For a moment, it felt as though it were just the two of them, Draco and Mae, just as it should have been.

Mae stepped back, away from Draco, away from Ron. Her mouth twitched, her eyes grew wet, and she was at a loss for words. She turned then, and hurried out of the courtyard.

How dare he do this to her. 

taglist: @xoxohollands @phantomsmalfoystyles @lidiyabest @justmimithings

Part one

Part three

[saigonharrington]

boyfriend // g.w angsty one shot

I would like to say hi to my 30 followers I love you so freaking much thanks (and sorry) for following me 🧡 and to all my non-followers thank you for reading my story

It would be nice if you guys could reblog my works, it helps me grow and motivates me so much

By the way, it’s the angstiest one shot I have ever written so before you can ask, I can assure you that I will make a part two ( there will be link to it if it will be posted) because I don’t want to leave your relationship with George like that

My last one shot was for non gryffindor readers so this one’s for you gryffindorks

George Weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

The year when the Yule ball was held

Warnings: swearing and different swear words, cheating, mentions of cheating, crying, some unkind words about slytherin (im so sorry guys really I love you)

Word count: 2k I think

angst angst and once more angst

also I did it in 2nd person (I wrote it in 1st and then changed it so sorry if there are mistakes) because I read on someone’s blog that you prefer it like that ❤️

———————

The Triwizard tournament despite being a dangerous experience had some perks. Maybe not for me, but for some, the Yule Ball was the hot topic all the time. Boys were freaking out because they didn’t know if the girl they’d planned to ask will say yes, while girls were comparing their dresses and talked about crushes they developed to have. Everything was a mess, even teachers seemed to talk only about the night that the ball is held.

And here you were, not going.

“Honestly, Y/N, even though Adrian doesn’t want to go, does not mean that you should spend this night alone. You can always join our group.” Angelina spoke to you, seeing your upset face. You were sitting in the dormitory, girls were putting their dresses and make-up on, trying not to mess up their hairstyles.

“You’re going with Fred, each one of you has a pair, I don’t want to interrupt.” You explained.

“Don’t be silly, we’re going as friends and nothing more. And I bet everyone would agree with us that you should go, for once thinking about yourself. I’m sure Pucey won’t mind. Although he’s sick, that doesn’t mean you should babysit him or sit all damn night here without a soul to talk to.” Alicia encouraged you.

“I’m not sure. It’s too late to start preparing. I don’t even want to go, dancing isn’t my thing. And all that stuff that makes this night official, it’s so stressful.” You are a good friend, right? It isn’t your night, tonight is only about them. You don’t want to third wheel anyone.

“You know we can help you. Boys can wait 30 minutes longer. And think about it, you’re not the only one who’s going without a pair. George, Katie, and Lee are going alone. Also, Harry and Ron set up with Patil twins, these girls will leave them after ten minutes, because boys do not match their personalities, I tell you. Believe it or not, maybe 30 percent of people will be at the ball with the one they fancy. It’s about fun, not significant others. Some younger students are also attending this ball, you can’t tell me that you resign because of your boyfriend. He wouldn’t feel betrayed just for the reason that you’ll show up to the dance where are teenagers, or frankly speaking - children. You’re going with us.” Alicia ranted, sick of your excuses.

“And I agree with Alicia. No time to mope around. What could be wrong with spending time with your favorite people? We’re gonna dance until our knees become weak, and then we’ll be eating til’ our tummies can’t take more. Also, can you imagine those Durmstrang boys in suits? You can’t say no to them. Bet they look freaking good and every one of them will want to dance with a girl like you. Now get your butt here, someone’s got to help you with make-up. Alicia can you do her hair then?” Angelina got excited and made you sit in front of her to have your make-up done.

“But what will you wear?” Spinnet asked when she finished her job.

“Actually, my mom sent me a dress, which I keep deep in my closet because I knew I won’t go…” You whispered.

“Shut up! And you didn’t tell us?” Angelina exclaimed. “Now it would be extremely dumb not to go. This dress can’t be wasted, put it on!”

You did as they wished, putting on the clothes. You didn’t have the right shoes, so you decided to wear casual black sneakers.

“You look amazing, Y/N” “Yeah, Adrian would’ve been sad if he knew how fine you look tonight.” Girls complimented you. “I bet our friends are waiting in the common room. We should go.”

Lee, Katie, George, Fred, and Alicia’s partner sat by the fireplace talking about something.

“You’re finally here!” Katie shouted smiling wide. “And Y/N! I’m so happy that you’re going. Your dress is phenomenal.” She squealed.

“It’s their fault.” You pointed at Angelina and Alicia. “They persuaded me.”

“That’s good! It’s going to be our night, and you’ll have fun despite Pucey’s absence. I can’t wait!” If Katie could fly, she would do it right now.

“Confidence looks good on you.” George interjected, walking closer to you. You were friends for a couple of years. He was always by your side, along with his twin, but You never bonded with Fred that well as with his younger copy. You got through so much together, that only made your friendship stronger. Frankly speaking, You were quite happy that he was going alone. Since your boyfriend didn’t go at all, You wanted to have someone to talk to.

“Thank you, Georgie. Do you think it would be alright if I tried to check up on Adrian? I’m worried about him and I don’t want to seem selfish.” You changed the subject.

“You know that it’s hard to get to a different gender’s dorm. Not to mention that it’s the slytherin boy’s dorm.”

“I won’t go then. But please try not to joke about slytherins this night. It’s my boyfriend’s house therefore it hurts me a little.”

“Whatever you want.” He didn’t seem to worry, but You were completely serious. His pranks sometimes went too far. Adrian didn’t care bout them, while you personally found them inappropriate. You love George, he’s your best friend, but his hate towards slytherin house and all the members drove you mad. You thought that people are done with stereotypes and generalizing.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked you, seeing that you do not pay attention to what’s happening.

“Nothing important. Let’s head to the table.” You replied, intertwining your hands, taking empty seats next to Fred and Angelina.

“You know guys, we’re gonna dance first, we’ll come to eat later.” Alicia took her partner’s hand and dived into a crowd on the dance floor.

As time went by, Angelina and Fred disappeared as well, showing their moves as if they were taking part in some kind of competition. The next thing You knew is that you and George were left alone by the table because even Katie and Lee were in the mood for a party.

“It would be lame if we stayed there and eat all night. If you will?” George asked for your hand, and you joined your group on the floor. Everything was great, You wanted to thank the girls for making you go, but before You had a chance, a slow song started playing, and people divided into pairs, leaving you and George next to each other.

“You know, I might go check on Adrian, I’m sure he doesn’t want to sit in the dorm all night, and maybe we could talk for a bit.” You panicked, seeing a couple of slytherins looking at you as if they wanted to kill you for spending time with the Weasley. To be honest, You felt uncomfortable with it and you didn’t want to seem careless.

“Just one dance, please? Then you can go.” George pleased.

“Georgie?” You asked, while resting yout head on his arm. “These people are staring, and it makes me very anxious.”

“Maybe we should give them the show that they’re asking for.” George replied and before You could think about a response, he kissed you in your mouth. If felt so strange, yet so good. His lips were so soft, his big hands on your waist were holding you tightly, warm feeling entered your body. You returned the kiss, forgetting about the whole world and people around you, who probably glanced at you, but you couldn’t care until it hit you.

“George, I’ve got a boyfriend.” You almost cried, knowing that now You cheated on Adrian and the whole hall witnessed this.

“And yet you kissed me back.” He smirked, not worrying about it as much as you did.

“I should tell him the truth.” You said to yourself, exiting the ballroom, running in panic to Slytherin’s common room.

“No, Y/N, wait!” George shouted. “I wanted to do it for so freaking long. And you showed me that you might feel the same way about me, you can’t just walk out of the Great Hall and leave me alone. I deserve explanation.”

To say you were furious would be an understatement. How could he make this about him, when clearly You were in worse situation.

“George shut up for a moment! Can’t you see what I did? I let you kiss me, returning it. Don’t you know what people will gossip about? Me. Only me and my bad actions, because t’s always the girl’s fault. I do have to tell him before he finds out from someone else. You have to understand me and for once, give me some time. We’ll talk later, I promise.”

“But I love you. I love you since our second year, and now that I showed my affection and had the courage to make the first move, you’re leaving me. You’re always talking about Adrian. It makes me sick. How can you be with someone like him? He’s bad, like most of the Slytherins plus you must be blind not to see the way he treats you. He’s always so mean, doesn’t like to hold hands with you, does not understand your jokes. But I do. I’m always with you and for you. I’m the one who wipes your tears after he does something stupid, I’m the one who’s wanting the best for you. I’m really fucking mad that you’re with him. I should be your damn boyfriend who can hold your hand forever and will never let go, who will kiss you so passionately until you lose your breath. And I wouldn’t cheat on you as he does. I couldn’t help myself. When we danced, you looked so fucking perfect. You always look like that. And Pucey cheated on you, at least twice. I saw it with my eyes, I swear. I thought about it all the time, wanting to punch his face so bad that his own mother wouldn’t recognize him. No one cheats on a girl like you, Y/N. No one should ever cheat. He managed to do it more than once and I hate him for that.” He admitted, not noticing that You were already crying. “But you know what? If it makes you feel better, you can go to him. I know he’s not sick, he’s sitting with one of his girls, avoiding you, and no doubt, he’s doing more than kissing her. You can see it for yourself if you don’t believe me.” He almost shouted.

“Fine! I will! Even if it’s true, it wasn’t the right time to kiss me in front of that many people! I’m going to be called a whore and no one will protect me, because they saw what we did. It’s not going to be your fault, but I’m blaming you. Because you said no one should ever cheat. And what you did, was the exact opposite. If all boys are like that, then I’m fucking done.” You exclaimed, leaving him outside the common room.

You tried to control my tears, yet you lost your control while you heard weird noises from your boyfriend’s dorm.

“I was so damn stupid that I believed you! Do what you want, asshole, I’m not your girlfriend anymore. As if it mattered anytime.” You screamed, being pissed off at him, yourself, and George. Because his words were true, and you didn’t notice it earlier. You felt so fucking stupid.

You ran through the empty corridors, trying to focus on finding the shortest way to your dorm room. You passed by some couples kissing, but they did not saw you. Or they didn’t want to. You tried not to stare at them too, being in the worst mood you ever could be.

“Do not say a thing Weasley. I want to be alone.” You spoke, seeing George waiting outside your common room, and before the boy could reply, you disappeared at the door.

please reblog and comment because I want to interact with you and the more people are enjoying the story the sooner I’ll write the second part 😊

[asexualzoro]

list of reasons i find Brook ridiculous

for brook’s birthday, ive decided to follow up my other two posts of this genre by dragging yet another idiot swordsman. i have everybrook open on my phone next to me. here we go

- first and foremost his most ridiculous crime is existing. as he’s already so ridiculous as a character, im going to talk only about things hes done

- i want to know, did Brook make a conscious effort to change his laugh to sound like his favorite song? how long did it take? what was the in between period like? what did his crew have to say about this? the rumbar pirates were big on playful teasing, did they let Brook live this down? 

- ALTERNATIVELY: was brook’s laugh already like that? is that why bink’s sake is his favorite song? is that why it was York’s favorite-- oh we only made it two bullet points before i made myself sad

- relatedly i cannot make fun of anything Brook did in his backstory it will make me too sad. hes spared for now

- i DO want to say from a writing standpoint its so fucking ridiculous to me that he mentions twice being a convoy captain in the past and it never comes up again. oda?? why even bother to include something that cool if you weren't even going to do anything with it?? you could have said hes just always been a pirate but no. oda?? oda

- there was that bit where a bunch of people thought Brook was satan and addressed him as such (i think Satan-sama in the original, and the translation i read was like... Lord Satan or Lord Demon or something). not only did Brook never correct them, but he also ran with it and later used this case of mistaken identity as a reason to threaten to eat a man’s heart 

- also both men and women were showing him their underwear in that bit. bi rights

- those satanists let Brook get kidnapped while saying they would try to summon him back. do you think they're still at it

- Brook is older than... basically every old man in the series. Garp, Whitebeard, Rayleigh... all of them. something about that is so weird to me and i cannot place why

- Brook has seen and can prove the existence of an afterlife in One Piece canon and its then never addressed again

- Brook missed so many huge events while being dead. im looking at a timeline rn and these include the obvious, like, roger’s execution and subsequent effect on in-world culture and society and whatever. but also things like the destruction of ohara (which was in his home sea), the founding of the world power known as the revolutionary army (which was about 20yrs ago), and the births of every other member of his crew. wack

- he seems to know about stuff related to the pirate king post time skip, and i wonder if thats because someone told him or he’s just playing along now. maybe he just thinks Luffy made up the term pirate king cuz it sounds cool and he wants to support his captain’s interests

- if he DID ask though, like, who did he ask? his managers? did he pull aside some fan asking for an autograph at a concert like “hey, you look like a knowledgable young lad, mind helping me out?”

- i would love to be there when someone takes the time to explain roger, the pirate king, raffle, the One Piece.... and Brook asks them “what is the One Piece?”.... and someone has to look him in the eye (...or not) and tell him “i don't know” 

- Brook has technically died of fright (his soul left his body), like... at least once? it was luffy’s fault

- Brook was an urban legend on the florian triangle and i doubt he even knows that about himself

- when they're heading to fishmen island Brook gets all scared when they encounter a possible ghost ship and Usopp slaps him

- when captured by big mom he sleeps so godamn soundly and securely that he is harder to wake up than she is and this fact nearly gets a bunch of his crew killed

- Brook is the only character i can think of who has ever broken the fourth wall. he only did it once. maybe seeing the afterlife means he now knows hes in a manga. or maybe being isolated for 50 years just made his head be not screwed on right

- speaking of, there’s a bit in WCI at the wedding where Brook is decapitated. i don't know how it goes in the anime, but in the manga like... no one is shown to have decapitated him. his head just pops off. maybe he was just having fun

- also the bit where he rips the fake face off in wci. when someone calls him gross he cries

- there’s a bit in fishmen island where Brook is trying to ask Nami if he can see her panties (disgusting bastard) and he inadvertently protects her from being dehydrated by some guy they were fighting. except the panel setup reminds me a lot of / mimics ace protecting Luffy from Akainu, and it haunts me

- speaking of bits from fishmen island that haunt me, there's a page where it’s strongly implied Brook fucked a mermaid (maybe two). i will of course include the page here

- yeah. sorry. 

- when Brook first meets the strawhats he invites himself inside because “it’s cold out!” but he later admits in punk hazard that he cant feel cold. he was just lying

- no one introduces himself to Brook except Luffy for the entirety of thriller bark

- half related, Franky cradles Brook in his arms / carries Brook around for like a full scene in thriller bark 

- there's a link two second bit in film gold where the crew is just relaxing while they're planning for how they're going to get Zoro back and they're all shown eating burgers from pirate mcdonalds or whatever. and Brook is eating a burger and hes so messy that hes got burger on his forehead, and Franky is next to him just looking at him

- Brook also wears fake skin in that movie

- Brook has a running gag where he gets upset when things refuse to eat him and i was going to make a joke about it but im wondering if maybe hes just afraid of being left behind........ made myself sad again

- he cries when a dragon won't eat him tho

- Brook admits to reading monster hentai when talking to Sanji and Kin’emon and if i have to be burdened with knowing that so do you

- when hes trying to figure out the weakness of the zombies on thriller bark he overhears one ate a salted fish and lost its shadow and immediately assumes “oh, must have been the fish!” idiot man

- where does his sword cane go when hes not using it. it just appears. where does he store it

- there's a bit where the strawhats all use a combo attack at thriller bark and the first step is firing an electrically charged Brook in a slingshot through oars/oz. he ends up in a wall and no one ever pulls him out. i don't even think the manga shows how he got down

- enemies post time skip regularly assume Brook is dead when they manage to knock the crew out and it makes me wonder how popular of a rock star Brook actually was

- Brook goes on a mini rant to no one while they're descending to fisherman island where he wonders aloud how he sees without eyes and it makes me lose it

- this isn't Brook technically but Nekomamushi is based on a song Brook’s voice actor wrote about his cat.

- Brook literally doesn't have a brain. like i know we all know that but its so fucking funny. we make jokes about other strawhats only having one braincell or whatever but Brook straight up 100% just has a seashell where his brain is supposed to be 

-  why does he have rubber glove looking hands when hes haunting the castle at wano i fucking hate them

- relatedly, there’s a bit where Brook mentions he’s been, at kinemon’s interaction, sitting in a well for like... possibly days? is he okay

- honestly i love everything about Brook’s actions as a ghost in wano bc its so fucking funny but my FAVORITE fact is that Brook is in the wikipedia article about starving skeletons

im leaving you with that. appreciate ur local skeleton today

[novannna]

⭐ for the cs fic u recently posted !!

(fic is here)

ooh idk why i wrote the fic, but i had been rewatching cs, and really wanted to write one. im not even sure if i knew where i was going with it, just i wanted to do something w her trauma.

obviously, VILE was a huge part of her life, and in the show they never really showed her reaction to realizing how bad they were, as well as the emotions she was probably struggling to comprehend. I really wanted to write something that kinda explored deeper into that.

carmen always takes everything on herself, and doesnt ever want to admit weakness. She thinks that she has to be good enough, she can't fail. obviously, very unhealthy, and i was trying to show how that was sending her into a spiral. VILE manipulated her so much, and i choose to believe that they taught that things like asking for help, or showing emotions wasn't acceptable, so she wasn't opening up to zach or ivy, and kept pushing herself harder and harder, past her breaking point.

also. obsessed w this line: "Carmen rubbed her eyes tiredly.  What did it matter?  She’d stop falling apart well before Ivy and Zach got up.  She’d pull herself together for them, show the strong, infallible Carmen Sandiego they knew.  Not the weak, useless mess VILE made her.

No, VILE hadn’t made this.  VILE had made a hardened thief, a talented, stoic, emotionless criminal.   They would never claim Carmen as something of their making, not if they saw her now.  Not if they saw how low she’d fallen." because she's thinking she's not even good enough for VILE idk just trauma <3 (also self projecting but shhh we dont talk ab that)

not hugely relevant, but carmen fighting tigress and mime bomb was probably one of the first encounters carmen had with them, and so just getting used to her not being black sheep, and tigress purposefully calling her the wrong name. i think im funny

more back to the trauma. ANYWAYS carmen obviously has reached a limit, and she makes a mistake, and people get hurt, which is terrible for her already terrible mental health, she blames herself, she shouldve been better, whatever. also, she gets p hurt. and when zach and ivy are there when she wakes up, i was trying to show how carmen thought theyd be upset at her, that theyd blame her, bc ofc she thought it was all her fault. And she's so confused on why they don't want her to be perfect, why they don't hold her to such high standards.

carmen thinking that she was vile, she was a bad person, who hurt others, is there mostly for the pain but also she has so much trauma im so sorry carmen didn't mean to hurt you this much in this fic </3

idk how well it came across, but since carmen had such a bad expierience w her last family, i think she'd be reluctant to join a new one, and not want to get zach and ivy hurt, but zach and ivy are telling her she doesn't get to choose whether or not they want her, they've already chosen her, she just needs to choose them to. they'll care about her no matter what, she deserves their love.

"Carmen rested her head back down.  “I won’t.  I promise.”  She let her eyelids flutter shut, acutely aware of the siblings watching her.  But, she found, she didn’t mind.  Because it meant there were at least two people in the world who cared about her maybe-not-so-worthless self.

Carmen didn’t know whether she’d actually keep her promises.  But she knew she’d try her absolute fucking best.  She had a new family, and this one, though a bit battered and bruised, was hers, and this time she was determined to keep it."

i also really like this part, bc this is showing how she's letting herself be more vulnerable around them, and she's realizing what it means to have people truly love you. and she's starting to understand she is worth more than VILE told her. And also, acknowledging the fact she promised to try to not push herself and take on the world alone, but she was so used to doing that, she wouldn't always go to the others, but she'd try, and thats what mattered. and also, just accepting that she had a family now, and they were a mess, but it was actually real, not abuse that she'd been manipulated into thinking was love.

ahhh im so sorry this is actually a mess, i wasn't doing much thinking while writing this, and everythings kinda scattered everywhere but yeah!!! Carmen's got trauma!!! this is kinda long and incomprehensible, apologies, im a mess tonight

[simplybakugou]

OKAY I JUST READ YOUR SHORT STORY ABOUT BAKUGO HAVING A QUIRKLESS KID AND CRAZY IDEA BUT WHAT IF MIDORIYA, WHO’S STILL IN TOUCH WITH BAKUGO, WAS LIKE A CLOSE FAMILY FRIEND OR SUM AND GOT ALONG GREAT W KATSUO. idkidk but im sure deku would truly understand how katsuo feels so he’d kinda take him under his wing and “guide” him as he grows up AND MAYBE ONE DAY PASSES ON ONE FOR ALL TO HIM ? CRAZY IDEA BUT IT JUST POPPED INTO MY HEAD WHILE READING IT.

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst ⋆ WORD COUNT: 6126

A/N: I was already planning on making a part 2 for this but you guys beat me to it! And this is so long, I didn’t mean for it to be so long but so many ideas kept coming to mind lol. This is also my way of contributing to Bakugou’s birthday because I’m too depressed and sad to do anything else for him :) Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy :)

Link to part 1 is here!

✐posted 04.20.2020✐

“You’re all done!” You exclaimed, patting one of your patient’s back as you wrapped up the bandage. “Remember to not put too much pressure or overwork your arm otherwise it won’t heal properly. Please contact the hospital if you have any other abnormal pains.”

The young woman smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Bakugou-san. No wonder you’re so famous!”

You smiled and thanked the woman as she exited the room. Your nursing assistance, Hana, walked into the room, holding her clipboard of all of your appointments in hand. “Hana, do I have any more appointments?”

Hana looked down at the clipboard, shaking her head. “No, you’re clear for the afternoon.”

You nodded, thanking her and pulled your phone out from your pocket as you walked out into the hallway. There were numerous missed calls from Aldera Junior High, Katsuo’s school. A sigh escaped your lips, already knowing that the meaning of the call couldn’t be good. You dialed the phone number and called back.

“Hello, this is the office of Aldera Junior High, how can I help you?” A man’s voice asked from the other line.

“Hi, my name is Bakugou Y/N and I was just calling back after receiving some missed calls from this number.”

“Oh, Bakugou-san! Let me redirect you to Principal Hirai. She will answer your call shortly.” The line was momentarily cut off until you were redirected to the principal’s phone.

“Hello, this Principal Hirai. Is this Bakugou-san?” 

“Yes, it is. Sorry about not answering your previous calls. I had a few appointments to take care of at the hospital here.” You took off your white lab coat and sat down in your office.

“No worries, I understand how busy and hard you work. I called because there was an… incident here.”

You furrowed your brows. “Incident? Is it about Katsuo? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine but he did get into a fight with another student here. His mother is here in my office now and I would like you to come as well. I tried calling your husband but he is currently on duty so that’s why I called you,” Principal Hirai said.

“I understand. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” You hung up, setting your phone down on the table. Your fingertips rubbed small circles into your temples as you could feel a migraine forming. Katsuo, despite being a carbon copy of his father, had your temperament, making him calmer and less aggressive than his father. That was why you were shocked to find out he had gotten into a fight, something that is not in his character. 

You grabbed your coat, phone, and bag, approaching the front desk of the hospital. “Hana, call me if I get any other appointments. I’m taking my lunch break early.”

Hana nodded, waving good-bye to you as you made your way to your car and Aldera Junior High.

***

The doors were light as you pushed open the doors to the main office of the school. A man, most likely the one who you were on the phone with, greeted you. “Bakugou-san? You can take a seat right there. Principal Hirai will be right with you.”

You nodded, looking over to where he was gesturing. In the seats was your son who had a tissue in his right nostril to stop the bleeding as well as a bruise on his right cheek. He looked up at you, his crimson eyes widening at the sight of you. “Mom!”

You sighed, walking over and sitting down next to him. You cupped his face in your hands, examining his face. “You don’t look too beaten up but that bruise will take a few days, maybe weeks, to heal.”

Katsuo looked at you with a puzzled expression. “So… you’re not upset?”

“Of course I’m upset!” You exclaimed. “Why would you get into a fight, Katsuo? It’s not like you to do something like this.”

Katsuo scoffed in a manner similar to Bakugou himself. “That bastard Watanabe is a piece of shit.”

You felt your eye twitch at the sound of your son cursing, normally reprimanding him for doing so but deciding not to now since he seemed so upset. “He was picking on a kid in class for not showing him the answers on the test so I just wanted to tell him off for picking on someone like that. But then he started getting all pissy, talking about me being shitty for not having a quirk and then he…”

Katsuo looked over at you, looking away after his eyes met yours. “Then he what, Suo?”

Katsuo sighed, looking down at his hands. “He started saying that I’m probably quirkless ‘cause ‘my bitch of a mother’s shit quirk was too weak to pass on’ and that it was ‘her fault for making such a fucked up kid.’”

Katsuo looked back up at you, holding your hands in his. “But your quirk is so cool, Mom! No one else thinks it’s shitty or anything! Everyone thinks that you’re amazing for protecting and saving so many people and they all admire you for it! I admire you for it! Even if you aren’t a pro, you’re my hero, Mom.”

You smiled at him, raising your hand up and caressing his blonde hair down. “When did I get such a sweet and caring son? You didn’t have to say anything, Suo, I’m proud of you for sticking up for your classmate.”

He smiled back at you, looking over to see the man at the front desk smiling at the sight of a mother comforting her son. Katsuo blushed, rubbing his neck. “I-It was nothing, Mom.”

The door labelled ‘PRINCIPAL’ in black, bold letters, opened up. Principal Hirai gestured at the two of you to come in and you both got up to enter her office. Inside was an older woman and a young boy, who was even more beat up than Katsuo with a large band aid covering the bridge of his nose as well as a black eye. It seemed like even quirkless Katsuo was capable of showing his strength and protecting himself. Katsuo sat down on the chair next to Watanabe and you sat beside your son.

Principal Hirari sighed, folding her hands together on the desk. “Thank you both for being able to come here today, especially you, Y/N, with your busy schedule.”

The mother scoffed, crossing her arms. “What? Being a little doctor means she gets more praise than me?”

“No, not at all, Aiko. But let me get to why I had you come here in the first place. From what I’ve heard from Mashiho, he was minding his business when Katsuo came over and kept initiating a fight. Then he punched his face, forcing Mashiho to have to fight back.”

Katsuo stood up from his seat, eyes widened and teeth clenched together in anger. “You liar! You threw the first punch! And you were the one who kept picking on Asahi!”

Watanabe rolled his eyes at him. “I didn’t do any of that, Principal Hirai. Who are you going to believe: the kid with respectable parents or the brat with a sad excuse of a father who uses his aggressive behavior to call himself a hero?”

Katsuo grabbed Watanabe by the collar, pulling him up to his feet. “I dare you to say that again, you fucking piece of shit.”

You stood up, pulling Katsuo back and making him sit back down. “That’s enough, boys. I’ve heard enough,” Principal Hirai said.

Aiko began comforting her son in her arms. “Oh, my poor baby! Hirai, as you can clearly see, that barbaric kid is the one responsible for all of this! But you can’t blame the kid for being like that, since his parents can barely take care of one kid, let alone two. I mean how many times has that behemoth of a hero caused damage to the press. He’s better off being a villain than a hero if you ask me.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “Good thing no one was asking you, ‘cause the next time you even think about insulting my son or my husband in front of me will be your last.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Principal Hirai commanded. “It’s clear to me what happened.”

“Good, so I’m glad that that brat will be taken care of,” Aiko huffed.

“No, the exact opposite will be happening,” Principal Hirai said, eyeing Aiko. She looked over at Katsuo, smiling. “Katsuo has never gotten into this kind of trouble. Nor have I ever gotten complaints about him from the teachers. In fact, they say that he will most likely be the valedictorian for this year’s class. I only expect good things from him and I can see that you and your husband have done an excellent job raising him and Suki, who also is doing well in her classes here. I also want to thank you and your husband for everything you do for the people and so selflessly as well.”

You smiled, bowing your head at her. “Thank you for your kind words and taking care of my kids, too.”

Principal Hirai nodded, her smile disappearing as she looked at Watanabe. “Mashiho, on the other hand has caused more trouble than any other child in this building. There have been numerous cases where he has bothered other students for his benefit. I’m sure that if Katsuo didn’t step up and defend his classmate, Watanabe would have continued this behavior. Therefore, I’ve decided to suspend Watanabe for three weeks.”

Aiko and Watanabe stared at Principal Hirai with wide eyes and they both jumped out of their chairs. “This is outrageous! Look at my baby, look at how beat up he is because of that little shit!”

Principal Hirai looked at Aiko with disgust. “I also advise you, Aiko, to learn some manners as well because I won’t allow any adult to address my students as ‘little shits.’ I won’t be changing my mind. Please leave my office and do not return.”

Aiko, who was enraged, got up and grabbed her purse in one hand and her son in the other as she stormed out the door, cursing as she did so. Katsuo snickered and you nudged his leg to make him stop. Principal Hirai sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I really do apologize for making you come all the way here for such a nuisance. I’m sorry to you, too, Katsuo for having to deal with this.”

Katsuo grinned at her. “It’s nothing. If I’m being honest, I only fought back ‘cause he talked shi– I mean bad about my mom.”

You ruffled his hair, bowing and thanking the principal. “Thank you so much. If it’s alright, I’d like to sign Katsuo out for the rest of the day.”

Principal Hirai nodded. “You can sign Suki out as well as my way of showing my thanks for everything you and Ground Zero do for the world.”

You and Katsuo thanked her once again, going out into the office and having the man at the desk call Suki’s teacher to have her come down. Suki was your daughter, two years younger than Katsuo. Unlike her older brother, she had inherited your healing quirk. The difference was that she inherited Bakugou’s special sweat where she is able to heal using her sweat. Although she still can’t use it to the best of her abilities, she does try and train it as best as she can.

As you signed your children out, Suki opened the doors with a large grin on her face, most likely due to the fact that she got to leave early which was practically every child’s dream. She made a face once she saw her brother’s bruises. “God, what happened to you?”

Katsuo rolled his eyes at his little sister. “I’ll tell you later.”

***

“And then, I used just one drop of my sweat and it healed her paper cut! Isn’t that great, Mom? I’m showing so much progress!” Suki said, her face lit up with excitement as she latched her arm around yours.

Katsuo scoffed. “Aren’t you supposed to be able to do more? You’re in sixth grade now and that’s all you can do?”

You nudged Katsuo’s side. “Progress is still progress. I’m proud of you, Suki.”

Suki grinned at you, sticking her tongue out at her brother. Katsuo flipped her off when you weren’t looking. It was bright outside, the sun beaming down on the three of you as you took your kids out. Although you didn’t want him to get into fights, you were proud of your son for sticking up for his classmate and defending himself even without a quirk. There was no doubt in your mind that he would become a great hero just like his father.

Katsuo extended his arm out in front of the two of you, causing you to stop walking. He pointed down the road. “There’s a bunch of reporters there. If we go down this way, they’ll just ambush us and ask a bunch of questions about Dad.”

You nodded, looking down the street that was a bit dimmer as it wasn’t exposed to the sun’s rays due to the ginormous trees on the sidewalks. “This road looks better. It’ll take us a bit longer to get back to the car but that’s fine.”

“Do you think we’ll run into Dad or another cool hero on the way?” Suki asked excitedly as the three of you began walking down the narrow, desolate road.

“It’s possible, but I’d rather not ‘cause heroes only show up in times of need and that would mean a villain would be here,” you said. 

“Do you think there are people out there that hate Dad?” Katsuo asked.

“I’m sure there are. Just as there are people who love and admire Dad for everything he’s done, there have to be people who despise him for getting in the way,” you stated. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, looking at it to find an alert from a ‘villain movement app,’ one that notifies you when there is criminal activity in the area. WARNING: Level 5 villain, Gamma, is in the area. Be cautious.

“Gamma? Who’s that?” Suki asked.

“He was a villain that Dad and Uncle Deku faced a few years ago. He got away from police custody but no one’s heard from him since. We should get to the car as fast as we can before anything happens.”

“Too bad I got to you first,” a raspy voice called out from a few feet from behind you.

You felt like something was crawling under your skin as you clenched your hands around your kids’ forearms, turning around slowly to make eye contact with a pair of green beady eyes. 

“Mommy?” Suki called out to you softly. Gamma grinned menacingly at the three of you.

“Kids, run that way as fast as you can and get help from the first person you see,” you said in a low voice.

“What about you, Mom?” Katsuo asked, his voice trembling. Although he had never seen Gamma, obviously, he remembered watching the news feed of his father and Midoriya facing off against Gamma and it was difficult even with their combined strength. 

“Don’t worry about me, and go!” You said, your tone harshening in a way that Katsuo or Suki had never heard.

Suki grabbed her brother’s arm, running in the opposite direction. Katsuo looked behind him, your back faced him and he could see how you were shaking. Gamma took a step forward but you stopped him. “I’m your target, not them.”

Your quirk was in no way suited for combat but you knew you could distract him as much as you could just so that your kids could get away. Gamma grinned even wider. “You think I’ll let those little shits get away?”

Gamma used his quirk to create a solid wall in front of Suki and Katsuo’s path in a similar way that Cementoss’ quirk worked. “Your little husband and that All Might wannabe did this to me!” He pulled down his hood to reveal all of his hair singed off as well as burn markings all over his scalp. “I’m gonna make them feel every ounce of pain I felt.”

Suki began tearing up, clutching onto her older brother as Katsuo held her tightly against him. Gamma smirked. “I’m gonna kill all of you and make that explosion bastard feel so much agony he’s gonna beg me to kill him.”

Gamma moved his arm, his quirk activating to create a branch like substance, wrapping around Suki’s waist. Suki screamed as she was ripped from her brother’s grasp but Katsuo refused to let go of her, holding onto her arms. Although he didn’t have a quirk, he still trained with his father to maintain his physique. Due to Gamma’s strength to have been immensely depleted thanks to Midoriya and Bakugou, Katsuo managed to yank Suki from the cement branch.

Gamma grunted under his breath and you let out a sigh of relief. But it still was far from over. Gamma looked over to Katsuo, snarling at the sight of him. “You look just like him. I think I’ll play around with you until he gets here.”

Your eyes widened, looking back at Katsuo as another cement branch grabbed him this time. “Katsuo!” You and Suki called out in unison.

Suki attempted to pull her brother away like he had done for her but she wasn’t strong enough. The cement branch moved towards Gamma, holding Katsuo up in front of him. Gamma activated another cement branch, grabbing Suki and maneuvering it forward so it would grab you on the way. The substance felt like the side of the road was wrapping against your bare skin as the tiny rocks dug into you. You winced in pain and Suki began crying out.

Gamma laughed maniacally. “You all made it too easy! I expected it from the doctor but not from the brats! I expected at least one of you to have that bastard’s quirk!”

The crowd of reporters heard the commotion from the street over, moving to the source of the sound. With little time, the crowd continued growing as they all watched on, unable to do anything other than watch. 

The cement dug deeper as Gamma tightened its hold around all of you. The silent road was now filled with the sounds of the three of you screaming in agony. You gritted your teeth. “They’re just kids! It should be enough to take your anger out on me, not them! Let them go!”

Gamma shook his head. “I want him to feel as much pain as he can! I don’t give a fuck who gets hurt!” You continued baiting him, angering Gamma even further.

Katsuo grunted, trying to break his arms free or at least move them around. Think, Katsuo, think!

He remembered watching the video of Gamma fighting all those years ago and how he relied on the darkness when using his quirk. It was a long shot, but Katsuo knew he had to do something otherwise his family would be murdered. His fingers snuck into his pocket carefully, pulling out his phone and turning the flashlight on. He shined the light at Gamma’s eyes and Gamma screamed out, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His grip began to weaken and Katsuo broke free from his hold. He continued to shine the light at him as he went over to his mother and sister.

The only way to get them out would be to break the cement. Katsuo didn’t have any tools to do this, having to rely on his fists and the fact that Gamma was weakened by the light to break them free. So Katsuo began punching the cement, his knuckles cracking and bleeding as he pounded relentlessly. 

“Suo!” Suki cried out, tears streaming down her face.

With one final punch, Katsuo broke you and Suki free, falling to the floor. The crowd cheered for Katsuo as you grabbed your son and daughter and ran towards the crowd and away from Gamma. Katsuo continued to shine the light onto Gamma, sighing in relief as he thought they had gotten away.

“Not so fast, you shit!” Gamma yelled, releasing one more cement branch blindly, grabbing Katsuo. He dropped his phone, releasing Gamma from being burned by the light. You moved to grab your son, only to be stopped by the formation of a cement wall, one with numerous net-like holes so that everyone could see what he was about to do.

“All you bastards out there, feast your eyes!” Gamma called out to the crowd. He tightened his grip around Katsuo. Katsuo felt his ribs crack as he let out a blood curdling scream.

“Katsuo!” You called out, covering your mouth as you sobbed. 

Suki fell to the floor beside you, turning around at the crowd. “One of you fucking idiots call for help! He’s gonna kill my brother!”

The crowd flinched at the intensity and vigor of Suki’s voice. One of the reporters had gotten the attention of others around him, and the crowd managed to call over Midoriya who was initially informed about the situation, the perfect person for this. 

“Gamma!” Midoriya called down the road.

Gamma flinched at the sound. “That voice…”

Taking advantage of the diversion and Gamma’s lack of attention, Katsuo pushed his arms out, wriggling his body from Gamma’s clutches. He fell to the floor, groaning in pain. He was broken and bloodied. “Suo!” Suki called out.

Katsuo punched through the wall, managing to break free, falling in front of his mother and sister. He was panting, clutching his side in pain. 

“That damn hero…” Gamma grunted. 

Before Midoriya could make his way through the crowd, Gamma created another branch, one with deadly shards of cement that would surely impale you as he was trying to grab you this time. Katsuo saw this, grabbing his book bag that was strewn on the floor and flinging it at the branch. He threw his body in front of you and Suki.

“Don’t you fucking touch them!” Katsuo screamed, his voice cracking. 

Gamma smirked at him. “Look at you being all brave. Come to think of it, I did hear about Ground Zero having a quirkless son. And you think you can defeat me? You’re just a waste of space!”

“I know that I’m weak!” Katsuo yelled. “I’m quirkless, and I’ll never be as strong as my dad.”

“Suo…” You murmured, holding onto Suki. 

Katsuo looked at Gamma with an intensity in his eyes that matched that of Bakugou’s. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll just let you hurt the ones I love without a fight!”

Gamma scoffed, angered by the child’s tenacity. He created another branch, this time aiming for Katsuo. “It’s over for you, kid!”

“Not while I’m here!” Midoriya called out, finally breaking through the crowd and running full speed at Gamma. “You’ve hurt them enough!”

Gamma flinched as Midoriya used his quirk and landed a devastating punch to Gamma’s large body. His body cracked, weakening his powers immensely. He was already weak due to Midoriya and Bakugou’s efforts all those years ago. 

As Midoriya reprimanded Gamma, Katsuo collapsed to the floor, continuing to clutch his side. You moved to hold him in your arms. “Katsuo, don’t worry I’ll fix you up soon.”

***

“Will he really be okay?” Suki asked, sniffling as she continued to cry.

You smiled softly, caressing her hair. “He’s alright. He has a few broken ribs and broke a few fingers, too. But Katsuo’s the strongest kid I know.”

Suki’s fists shook in her lap as you two sat outside of Katsuo’s room in the hospital. “He’s such an idiot! He should know better than to hurt himself like that!”

You rubbed Suki’s back, leaning your head onto hers. You shivered at the mere thought of Gamma but was assured as the images of Katsuo’s bravery flooded your mind. You knew that he trained with Bakugou since he was a toddler but you had no idea he was so strong, especially without a quirk.

You were broken away from your thoughts as Midoriya walked down the hallway. He smiled as he saw you and Suki. “Are you guys okay?”

You nodded. “Thanks to you, I don’t know what would’ve happened without you, Deku.”

Midoriya smiled sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I was just doing my job! Your son was amazing out there! Speaking of, is he awake?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he wanted a few moments alone to breathe and process what happened so I’m just waiting for Katsuki here.”

“I see. Is it alright if I see him?”

“Go ahead!”

Midoriya smiled at the two of you as he slid the door open, closing it behind him. Katsuo sighed from his bed. “Mom, I said I wanted a few moments alo–”

Katsuo’s eyes widened at Midoriya by the door. “Oh, sorry! I can come back later if you want.”

“No! It’s okay, you can stay!” Katsuo sat up in his bed, wincing slightly. “I actually wanted to thank you for saving us back there.”

Midoriya shook his head, sitting down on the chair beside Katsuo’s bed. “You did so much for your mom and your little sister and I don’t think you understand how you literally saved them. I’m sure if you hadn’t done what you did and protected them in the way that you did, they would have been harmed severely. But you used your own body to protect them.”

Katsuo blushed. Although he was close with Midoriya due to his connection to his father, this was the first time someone other than his parents was commending him for his strength. “I just didn’t want them to get hurt. They’re my family and I think that if I had just done nothing, even though I don’t have a quirk, I would have never forgiven myself if they got hurt.”

Midoriya smiled. “You remind me of myself when I was your age, you know.”

Katsuo’s eyes widened. “What? No way! You’re one of the top heroes, Uncle Deku! You’re as strong as Dad, there’s no way you were like a quirkless loser like me!”

“I was though.” Midoriya paused. “I was quirkless like you.”

Katsuo stared at Midoriya with genuine confusion. Midoriya raised his hands in front of him, showing the numerous scars on his hands. “I was born quirkless but I was given this quirk by someone else. It’s called One For All.”

“You were given your quirk? Is that even possible?”

“This is the only possible way. A long time ago, I met my hero, the past symbol of peace, All Might. He gave me this quirk.”

Katsuo got excited, his eyes shining with excitement. “All Might?! Dad always tells me stories about how cool he was back in the day! And he gave you his quirk? Was that why he retired?”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, you see, that’s not how it works. One For All can be passed down from one person to another and it has been for generations. All Might was given his power by his teacher, too.”

Midoriya looked down at his hands. “I was a quirkless kid just like you when I met him. I thought it was impossible for me to become a hero and so did All Might at first. But then, I tried to save your dad from a villain, even without a quirk, and All Might saw me do it. He saw my drive to save as many people as I could as the perfect thing for the next successor of One For All. So he passed his quirk to me.”

“Dad never told me about that… about the whole villain attacking him.”

Midoriya chuckled. “That sounds like Kacchan. It isn’t something he’s proud of, having to be saved by a quirkless kid. But seeing you throw yourself and do anything to save those that you love, it reminded me of exactly why I wanted to become a hero.”

Katsuo furrowed his brows in confusion at Midoriya. “I like hearing all these stories, but why’re you telling me all this? Isn’t this supposed to be a secret?”

“I’m telling you this because I want to pass down One For All to you.”

Katsuo stared at him with utter disbelief, not believing for a second that he was serious. “Uncle Deku, I really do respect you, but if this is a joke, I think you can stop now.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I’ve never been more serious, Katsuo. Kacchan and Y/N have been telling me how much you’ve wanted to be a hero and I’m sure a lot of people have told you that you wouldn’t be able to be a hero because you’re quirkless. But from one quirkless person to another: you too can become a hero.”

***

Bakugou’s feet moved at a pace that the rest of his body couldn’t keep up with. The moment he heard the news of Gamma attacking his family, he didn’t hesitate to drop everything to rush to your side and make sure all three of you were okay. Midoriya had texted him the location of the hospital and Bakugou cursed under his breath as he had decided to take the stairs to the fifth floor, which was where you were. He even used his quirk to move his body faster, finally reaching the fifth floor.

His crimson eyes scanned the halls and found Suki lying on two chairs outside of a room, you close beside her. You looked up, smiling after seeing your husband. “Katsuki!”

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to hold you in his arms, practically knocking the wind out of you. His calloused hands held you tightly, his head nuzzled into your neck. He was so glad to see that you were alright. Bakugou pulled away, examining your body once more for any external injuries. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Suki and I got away with a few scratches.”

Bakugou’s blonde brows furrowed in worry and concern. “And Suo? What about Katsuo?”

“He has a few broken ribs and fingers. He’ll be okay though.”

“What the fuck happened?”

You smiled at Bakugou. “Katsuo protected us from that villain, Katsu. He did whatever he could to protect us.”

Bakugou stared in silence and relief. He was concerned about his son, slightly aggravated with the fact that he had been so reckless, but he also knew that if Katsuo hadn’t stepped up, you and Suki would’ve been harmed to a degree that Bakugou didn’t even want to imagine.

“He’s in there with Deku if you want to see him.”

Bakugou nodded, moving over to Suki who was fast asleep. He sighed, knowing that she was okay before sliding the door open. Katsuo nor Midoriya heard the door open, Bakugou only seeing the sight of Katsuo in a state of utter shock.

“What the hell did you tell him, Deku?” Bakugou asked, closing the door and leaning against it.

Midoriya flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Oh, Kacchan! I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Midoriya looked back at Katsuo who was looking at his hands, both his hands bandaged up as the aftermath of the day’s events. “Dad, do you think I can be a hero?”

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think what you did today is enough proof that you’re better than half the pros out there. Some of them hesitate to even save people, valuing their life above everything else. But you didn’t even think about that, and even though it was reckless, you’re the reason why Mom and Suki were able to get out of that unscathed.”

Katsuo let out a breathless laugh, his eyes tearing up as he whispered out, “So you think I’m a hero, too?”

“From how shocked you are now, I’m gonna guess and say that this shithead wants to pass down his quirk to you.”

Midoriya and Katsuo looked at Bakugou with shock. “How’d you know, Kacchan?”

Bakugou scoffed. “I wasn’t born yesterday. The moment I heard what happened and how you were there at the last minute, you probably saw that my kid was just like you all those years ago with that fucking sludge monster. And seeing as you’re here and Suo looks like he’s gonna pass out, I figured that’s what you told him.”

Midoriya turned his body around to face Bakugou. “So what do you think?”

“I think that my opinion has nothing to do with this. This is your quirk and it’s your decision for who you want to pass it onto. And it’s up to Katsuo if he wants this.”

Midoriya smiled, looking over at Katsuo. “You see, Katsuo? There are only a few people in my life that know about One For All and All Might and your dad are included. It’s all up to you.”

Katsuo clenched the sheets in his hands. The minute Midoriya had explained his situation, he knew exactly what he wanted. “I’ll do it. I’ll take One For All.”

Midoriya grinned. “Awesome! I knew I could count on you. But, I will say that I can’t pass it onto you for now since I still have so much to do with this quirk. But, I will train you and help your body be prepared for this quirk. I had no muscle training until All Might came into my life but I can see that Kacchan has prepared you well.”

“I–”

The door slid open abruptly, almost making Bakugou fall backwards. You put your hand on his back, pushing him back up. The three boys stared at you in shock and you looked at them in confusion. “What? You guys look like I interrupted a classified meeting.”

Midoriya shook his head vigorously. “N-No! You didn’t interrupt anything!”

“O-kay?” You sighed. “Can you two get out for now? I need to examine Katsuo’s wounds a little more before we can call it a night.”

Midoriya nodded, getting up to leave and sit on the chairs outside of the room. You walked over to Katsuo, sitting on the chair that Midoriya was sitting on. Bakugou unfurled his arms from his chest to his sides. “I’m gonna go talk to Deku.” You nodded and he closed the door behind him.

Bakugou sat down beside Midoriya who seemed to be deep in thought. Bakugou looked over at him. “What, you regretting your decision already?”

Midoriya shook his head rapidly. “No, not at all! I have no doubt that I made the right decision. I’ve just been thinking about when All Might approached me the same way with this quirk.”

He looked down at his hands which had numerous scars. “I want to approach this the right way. All Might was running low on time with One For All and he prepared me as best as he could until the U.A. entrance exams. But I want to make sure that Katsuo’s body will be prepared to the fullest before taking this quirk. You’ve seen it’s backlashes and I don’t want him to have to experience that same pain.”

Bakugou looked over at his daughter, caressing her (H/C) hair. He smiled. “He’s stronger than he looks. He’s my kid after all.”

Midoriya smiled as well. “I figured that much. If he wasn’t strong, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fight Gamma and hold him off as much as he did.”

Bakugou sighed, looking in the opposite direction. “I’m gonna say this once so you better fucking listen up.”

Midoriya looked at him with curious eyes. “Thank you.”

Midoriya became flustered, expecting anything other than a ‘thanks’ from his hot-headed friend. “There’s nothing to thank me for! I didn’t really do anything.”

“You idiot, you’re giving him hope. No matter how strong a person can be, it’s difficult to become a hero without a quirk. I always told Suo that I believed in him and I still do, but I was always worried about what would happen once he faced off with an actual villain.”

Midoriya shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, I’m being honest. He’s always had hope. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to do what he did today. He believed in himself. Besides, I didn’t expect anything else from a Bakugou.”

Bakugou smirked. “Of course, where do you think he got it from?”

Midoriya smiled. “Kacchan, I’m going to make him become an even better hero than you and I. He’s going to be the best hero in existence.”

Bakugou looked over at him. “Damn right he will.”

[singingforthepromises]

fruits basket manga lb (ch 115-118)

CH 115

“The feeling... of being left behind.” Oh no. 

I actually agree with the maid - Ren IS despicable. She’s horrible. I do think I’m at the point where I dislike her more than Akito, honestly. I at least feel bad for Akito at certain points and it’s growing with each chapter. Ren? She can fuck off, honestly. 

“She’s worthless” about Isuzu. Lol shut up bitch 

“You’re the one who’s worthless, Ren-san” OH HO SHIGURE WENT THERE

Ren is such a hypocrite. In one breath, she criticizes Akito for holing onto ‘delusions’ when she’s sitting here doing the same shit with Akira. 

“She just didn’t want to stop being Akira-san’s ‘number one.’ She’s jealous.” FACTS

Wow she didn’t even hold baby Akito. :/ 

“The way she is now... whose fault.... is that?” I love that this is being brought up, and I’m gonna talk about it. Akito is a product of her environment, we know this. It’s not surprising that she turned out this way. It’s all she knew. She’s clinging to words that her father told her, to justify her actions and make sense of her existence. Otherwise, in Akito’s eyes, her mom was right about her - and that’s a horrible perspective to have. It’s understandable of course: that is what abused children think. Akito is as much a victim from abuse as any of the others. It’s like this entire series has been a game between Ren and Akito and seeing who the winner will end up being, and damn the collateral picked up along the way. 

The way Akito is now.... it’s mostly her own fault, but it’s ALSO Ren’s, Shigure’s, Kureno’s, the maids, the entire Sohma family’s. They all either directly caused this behavior or were content to let it continue. Or they simply chose not to try and get her help or direct her something more positive. I blame Kureno less than I do the others, because he was as much as a victim as everyone else, in his own way. Shigure I do hold responsible because even though he’s under the curse too, he knew Akito best, knew her entire situation, and is still comfortable talking to and fraternizing with Ren. 

At the end of the day though, Akito’s decisions are her own, and until she owns up to it and changes her ways, she’s the same as her mother. I feel much more for her now as opposed to when I first started the manga and anime, but she’s still got a ways to go for me. We’ll see by the end where I stand on her. 

One thing I know for sure: Ren is an irredeemable piece of shit. 

Okay, let me address this scene with Akira and Akito. I totally get where he’s coming from, being a loving father to his daughter that is treated like crap by her own mother. She deserves this warmth and care from her parents, even if from just one. But I feel like this approach, the way he explained her destiny to her, was part of the problem. One parent was overly loving and wanted to give the child everything and told her how important she was and the other was cruel and cold. Akira needed to let Akito know the meaning of the word “no.” Not to be harsh, or cruel to her, but to let her know that the Zodiacs are people too, and they can’t be sentenced to a life of imprisonment with her just because she is their God. That if she treats them right, they’ll be close and bonded, but allowed to live lives of their own. It doesn’t mean that she’s been abandoned, or that no one wants to be with her. Healthy relationships can exist from a distance, and that was not expressed by anyone in Akito’s life. It certainly explains her terror when thinking they’re all going to leave her, or she’s told that they’re going to. 

OH SHIT OH MSJFSFJS DID THAT JUST HAPPEN

MOMIJI’S CURSE

IT JUST BROKE

IM SOBBING MY BEAUTIFUL BOY IS FREE

CH 116

Momiji is walking past his mom’s house? I’m upset

Ohh boy here comes Akito

I do feel bad for her... it’s sad, because she’s brought all of this on herself, and to a degree, it’s karma. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel bad. 

Momiji realizing that Akito is weak and has no power over him anymore.... wow, we love to see it. 

omg are Haru and Yuki realizing it??? 

Tohru blushing at seeing Kyo!! 

Momiji watching her! ;A; 

“Well... you know, right?” AHHHHHHH HE SAID IT

Oh, Momiji did go talk to Akito again... 

“Akito, I can’t spend the rest of my life at your side.” YES MY BOY

Okay here she goes, slapping him. And she’s rubbing salt in the wound, lashing out because of her own pain... and Momiji is bigger than that, better than that. The fact that he’s admitting that nothing will go back to how it was, that breaking from the curse is just as much a curse as actually being under one... that’s truly sad. I hadn’t thought of the bond as a beautiful thing in a while, but I see the potential it could’ve had TO be. They were united by something that could’ve been beautiful. To an extent, in between all of the horror that came with it, it was. 

“I’m going to walk my own path.” I AM SO PROUD OF YOU

“How about you? How long are you going to stay HERE?” I love this question for many reasons, but mostly because it shows that Momiji still cares about Akito and wants her to be happy, too. 

I respect that Akito isn’t trying to stop him even further with more violence or more demeaning words. I don’t know if Momiji’s words are having an impact and she’s starting to realize what she’s caused, or if she’s internally about to have a meltdown and do something much worse, but for the moment, I like that she isn’t lashing out at him much more. 

CH 117

Oh, we’re paralleling mother relationships with Tohru and Akito, are we? They really are foils of one another. 

You’ll get another chance, Tohru!! 

Damn Ren is legit awful. 

“This thing?! It was just a toy to pass the time!” Oh, okay. Explains the “you’re just a toy for me to play with” from little Akito to Yuki. Was this the moment she snapped in the room and painted it black? Was this the precursor? And she repeated those awful words her mother said to her? 

“It meant that I could show off...in front of that woman.” Yep, called it. 

Holy shit she’s becoming aware... “I forced them to stay.” 

“I had faith that no one could split us apart.” So Tohru being involved was so Akito could show Ren that no one could interfere with her bond to the Zodiac. I hate saying that Ren was right, but... it’s true. And like the sad thing is, in this case, the bond SHOULD be severed, because it’s unhealthy for everyone involved, including Akito. But I relate to Akito here: I wouldn’t want my abuser to be proven ‘right’, either. 

Ren is insane

I do appreciate the maids being kind to little Akito. It’s just an unfortunate situation. All of the wrong words in the wrong kind of environment, not knowing how much to support someone without supporting them TOO much to the point of enablement... 

CH 118

Is Akito actually gonna kill Ren? I’m not opposed to that honestly. 

HIRO

HE’S HOLDING HIS BABY SISTER!!!

DID HIS CURSE BREAK?!

YESSSS

That’s two Zodiacs down! oh my god it’s actually HAPPENING.

“No one ever gave me a different way to live!” I mean, Akito is not wrong. She’s justifying her actions, but at the same time, she has a point. Everyone around her allowed this. Like I said: at the end of the day, she’s responsible for her own actions and she needs to own up to them and not shift the blame to everyone except herself. Hold everyone else just as responsible, yes: but admit your own faults. 

SHE JUST STABBED KURENO

JFC

Come on, Akito. You could’ve made a good decision right there, Kureno is willing to help you with the change. But unless you actively want to, nothing will happen. 

Is Kureno actually going to die??? omg. This was the quick moment from the trailer with the knife, right? Holy shit.

“So then what? It’s MY fault?” YES. YES, it IS! It’s your mother’s, and Kureno’s, and Shigure’s and the Sohma’s too - but it is YOUR fault with how you continue to treat people. 

“Where are they all going to go?” as she thinks of Tohru.

Oh god

oh fuck

Akito, I’m being more sympathetic to you, but if you hurt Tohru again, it’s OVER. 

Kyoru!!

“Kyo-kun... there’s something... I need to tell you.” OH MY GOD HERE WE GO HERE SJFJSFJSFJSJFSJFSF

[c-optimistic]

Hi C-Optimistic, Anon here to help you out of your angst woes. 😔 As for a prompt idea, how about this: Post 100th episode, Lena says f**k this s**t im out and f**ks off to Ireland. Just leave National City and all the drama, finds a quite cottage in the countryside, and get her head on straight (Lena POV).

hey anon, I appreciate you

“Villain,” she muttered to herself as she put the car in park and got out of the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut. “I’ll show you villain,” she continued mutinously, stalking over to the only building for miles.

“Uh, Lena, don’t you think maybe you should—”

“—I should what?” Lena demanded, not pausing for a moment. She pushed the door to the building open, using a little more force than strictly necessary, and stepped inside. Instantly, she coughed at the dust, looking around at the ramshackled cottage with a little bit of distaste. “I thought it would be...more homely,” she said, all her anger dissipating at the sight of her new residence for the foreseeable future.

“You bought an abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere and you thought it would be homely?”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere,” Lena said immediately, defensive. “This is the countryside. It’s in the country.” She sounded weak to her own ears, and she knew her stalker had noticed, because she let out a soft sigh, coming up behind Lena and reaching out—almost as if she wanted to touch Lena’s shoulder.

“Lena, come on,” she said, in her annoying soft voice, “I know you’re upset, but come back home.”

“Home? Anywhere you are is not home,” Lena spat, turning to glare at her stalker. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. I’m done with Lex, I’m done with you, I’m done with it all.” She gestured wildly at the dilapidated cottage. “I’m having an early retirement.”  

“Lena, please—”

But Lena was unwilling to listen.

“Leave,” she hissed, eyes narrowed, shoving her stalker in the chest when she didn’t immediately move. It was like pushing at a boulder. “I said go, Kara!”

And finally, with slumped shoulders and a sad sigh, Kara listened.

x

She noticed Kara skulking about not a week later.

Lena had bicycled down to the nearest town, enjoying the excellent weather as she rode, her thoughts on her list of things she needed from the market. There were supplies she needed to order as she continued to work on her cottage, but there were also some in-season fruits she waited all week for, still excited at the prospect of freshly picked berries.

(Not for the first time, she wished her own garden was further along, and that growing things wasn’t so...slow.)

Kara was at the market.

She wasn’t being sneaky. Not really. She was ambling about, charming the locals with her bright smile and excited questions, blushing profusely when a little girl accused her of looking familiar, almost like Supergirl. (“Pffft,” Kara had said loudly, her voice unintentionally carrying over to Lena as she tried to hide her awkwardness and failed, “that’s a strange thing—what an interesting—what would she even be doing...nooo, I look like me. Just like me.”) She clearly wasn’t attempting to hide her presence from Lena, but Lena—who remembered quite clearly telling Kara to leave—was annoyed.

So she settled on ignoring Kara’s presence entirely.

It worked, for the most part. She did find her eyes straying at one point, when Kara was busy with a little boy, her eyes screwed up in concentration, her tongue sticking out, as she attempted to fix whatever toy she’d accidentally stepped on while failing miserably at following Lena covertly.

(It wasn’t until much later, when Lena was fixing herself dinner back at her more rugged than ramshackled cottage, that she wondered if Kara had done it all on purpose. The following loudly from a distance, never approaching, never making actual contact.

To suggest her friendship and presence would go nowhere, while also respecting Lena’s boundaries—making it quite clear she would not approach unless Lena initiated the contact.

It made Lena roll her eyes, a traitorous smile tugging at her lips.)

x

In her third week of solitude, Lena woke up one morning to letters.

A large stack, resting innocently behind her door, held together by a waxy piece of string she recognized from the town’s bookstore. Lena looked up and around her property, but she saw no sign of blue and red, so she bit her lip and picked up the letters.

It took her another whole day before she was mentally ready to open them.

They were from everyone—or, for the most part, that was. Letters from Nia, from Brainy, from Alex and Kelly (the way that letter was worded making Lena think it was written by Kelly), even a letter from J’onn. They were apologies, pleas for her to return, admissions of fault and guilt, and one (clearly written by Alex alone, without Kelly’s soft touch) that brought up all Lena had done and how that was painful too. Nia had given updates about National City, Brainy talked about some ideas he had for some of Lena’s R&D projects—abandoned, she supposed, now that she was here and Lex was still back in National City—and J’onn wrote about heroes and M’gann, and those who managed to buck what everyone expected them to be, just to be who they actually were.

The absence of Kara, in any of it, was glaring. No mentions of Kara (or Supergirl) in the letters, none of them written in Kara’s neat, loopy hand, not even a whiff of anything to do with the reporter, even though she was the only one who could’ve brought all these unmarked letters to her doorstep.

For whatever reason, it made Lena angry. She had been stalked and followed, Kara popping into town every time she happened to be there, but she couldn’t get a single, measly letter?

Well, she would show Kara, she thought to herself as she folded all the letters back up and shoved them in the envelopes. She would show her.

x

“You,” she told Kara unceremoniously in the middle of town—in the market, right in front of a stand full of cabbages—eyeing her former best friend with as much heat as she could muster (which, well, wasn’t much), “are such an idiot.”

And then she left.

x

Kara followed.

It took a few days, but the next time she saw Kara, it wasn’t as she hid behind locals and pretended to be endlessly interested in fresh vegetables. It was outside her door, moments after a soft knock.

“Hi,” Kara said, not quite meeting Lena’s eyes. “I brought you some things I thought you might miss from National City.” (An enormous bag was at her feet, full of what looked to be books, some tech Lena had been tinkering with in her spare time and had left in her apartment, photos and the like, and even takeout from Big Belly Burger.)

“Right,” Lena said slowly, letting out a breath. “Thanks.”

(If Kara expected to be invited in and was surprised when she wasn’t, she didn’t show it. If anything, she looked pleased at the two words Lena did speak.)

“Right, well. I’d best be off. Alex is making me spend time with her and Kelly. She says I’ve been distant lately and she doesn’t like what it’s been doing to our work relationship. By which I think she just misses me, but doesn’t want to admit it,” Kara rambled, taking several steps back as she spoke. (Lena missed that, she realized suddenly. She missed Kara’s stupid quirks, her soft voice. No matter how tainted their friendship now was, she still missed her best friend.)

Kara’s fingers had reached up to her glasses when Lena found her voice.

“How did you find me?” she asked, swallowing a little bit, wanting to hide just how much she wanted the answer to this question. “I took so many precautions, to make sure Lex couldn’t track me. New bank accounts, buying this cottage in another name….” She trailed off, suggesting all the work she’d put into finding this cottage without anyone knowing. “So what did I miss? And why hasn’t Lex been here yet?”

It was a mildly suggestive question—what did you do, she wanted to ask, but didn’t. What did you do that made Lex not find the same thing that led you here? What did you do to Lex?

“I didn’t find you because of a paper trail, Lena,” Kara said, her tone changing so much that Lena felt her heart pound harder and faster in response. “I don’t think you made any mistakes.”

“So how did you find me? You were at the cottage the same time I was. How?”

For a moment, it didn’t look like Kara would respond. But then:

“When I’m overwhelmed, especially by noise, I latch onto things that are familiar and comforting to me,” she explained slowly, shaking her head when Lena tried to interrupt. “I listen for Alex’s voice, Nia’s snores, and um,” she paused, her cheeks flaming, “your heartbeat.” She fiddled with her fingers, not meeting Lena’s eyes anymore. “Since we, well—I’d been listening to it more often. And then one day it was gone from National City, and I panicked, so I started searching for it...and found you while you were on your way here.”

“You found me by my heartbeat?” Lena asked, incredulous.

“It’s one of my favorite sounds,” Kara said, clearly without thinking, her hands nearly flying to her mouth and her eyes widening in panic. (And Lena’s traitorous heart pounded harder and harder in response, as if crying out for Kara to hear it.) “Lena,” Kara continued after a long moment, “are you planning on staying here?”

(Lena wondered what this was. A question for a question? Answer for an answer?

Or was it what it actually sounded like? Kara, her former best friend, longing to have Lena come back.)

“I don’t know,” Lena answered honestly. “There’s nothing for me to go back for.” She managed to leave off the yet, but just barely. Oddly, Kara didn’t seem to notice, if her crestfallen expression was anything to go by.

“Okay,” she said, nodding curtly. “I understand. I’ll leave you, uh, to it then.”

“I could use company. Sometimes. If you’re free,” Lena blurted as Kara bent at the knees and one hand went up to her glasses. “It would be...nice, I think.”

And Kara’s blinding smile was answer enough for Lena’s unasked question.

x

“How are you all managing without me there, anyway?” Lena asked some weeks later, somewhat used to their new give and take, somewhat used to Kara’s presence in her small cottage, feeling safe enough to ask and her curiosity finally getting the best of her.

Kara didn’t even look up from the recipe she was trying to work out, biting her lip as she leaned closer to the book, her forehead resting on the page, as if she hoped she’d learn how to cook through the power of osmosis.

“Not great,” she answered honestly, not looking up. “But that’s to be expected.”

“What does that mean?”

Kara pulled away from the book, eyeing Lena oddly, as if she was missing something obvious. “It’s crazy that you don’t see how important you are to m—us.”

Lena didn’t comment on Kara’s slip, nor did she allow herself to think about how it was her personally that mattered, and not her contributions, in Kara’s mind.

At least, she didn’t allow herself to think about it too much.

x

“Sometimes I get bored out here,” Lena admitted.

“I could bring you more things to do. More of your projects, more books?”

“That’s not it,” Lena sighed, pushing a cup of tea Kara’s way. Her cottage was homely now. Full of light and flowers and smelling of freshly baked cookies. She wondered why it didn’t feel like home unless she was sharing it with someone else. “I supposed I’m jealous. Of you and the others,” she clarified at Kara’s curious look. “Game nights and lunch and all that? I miss it.”

“Oh. Well, you’re not missing much.”

“What?”

“We haven’t done any of that since you left. It’s not the same without you.”

x

“Why do you keep coming back?” Lena asked one day, months down the line. Kara was helping in the garden, mud drying on her forehead where she wiped at it with the back of her hand. “Surely there’s something else you’d rather do. What about that guy, the one who asked you out?”

“Who?” Kara answered absentmindedly, tugging on a stubborn weed. “Ohh,” she continued, laughing a little as it finally clicked and she used a bit of her super strength, the weed flying out of the ground. “I always forget about him. Is that terrible?”

“Kara,” Lena admonished, waiting for an answer to her actual question.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Kara admitted, leaning back so that she was sitting on her heels, turning to face Lena with a frown. “This is where I want to be.”

“Are you just here to convince me to come back?” Lena asked, several hours later, when the two of them were at her small table, having dinner. “Is that it?” (Fear made her ask. Anxiety made her ask. Curiosity made her ask. But also...well, hope made her ask.)

Kara was silent for a long moment, then she let out a deep breath. “I think, in the beginning. Yes. I kept coming because I wanted you to come home with me.”

“But now?”

“Now, I just want you to be happy. Wherever that is.”

Lena nodded, looking away from Kara after a moment. “National City was never my home,” she said, unsure why she said it, why she didn’t explain when Kara’s face fell but nodded knowingly.

“I get it,” she said, tone sad, but eyes flaming with promise. “I’m glad you made a home here. And I’ll keep you company as long as you’ll have me.”

No, you missed the point, Lena wanted to say. This cottage wasn’t her home either.

x

She didn’t worry when Kara didn’t visit for a week. She didn’t even worry when it stretched out for two. There was always something going on in the world, and she knew she couldn’t monopolize Kara’s time. But when two weeks stretched into a third, Lena knew something was wrong.

It was confirmed the moment she entered town, and walked into the nearest pub, seeing nearly half the townsfolk in there, all of them watching the television screen intently. Lena followed their gaze, and immediately, her heart sank at the breaking news playing out on the screen:

Supergirl still missing, traces of kryptonite at last spot she was seen

Lena turned around and rushed to her cottage, biking furiously, grabbing everything she needed for a trip back to National City.

Back to Kara.

x

After days of furious work, helping Alex and Brainy, allowing Nia to bully her into a nap, sighing in resignation when Kelly mediated an awkward hug between herself and Alex, and avoiding J’onn’s knowing gazes, Kara finally woke up.

She was still groggy, but a smile immediately tugged on her lips the moment her eyes fell on Lena.

“Am I dreaming,” she asked, holding her hand out for Lena to take, seemingly shocked when Lena actually took it, “or are you actually here with me?”

“I had to come back home,” Lena whispered, heart thudding in her chest. Kara’s eyes shut, even as her smile grew wider, and Lena knew she understood.

National City was never her home. Neither was that cottage.

Kara was.

(And from the way Lena’s heart pounded when Kara’s fingers intertwined with Lena’s, well, she didn’t think that would change anytime soon.)

[wxsuthorn]

a sort of organised analysis of The Gifted characters

pt. 1: Pang

(this analysis includes episodes 1-13 of season one and 1-7 of season two, so it probably isn’t completely accurate, but i tried my best. also please excuse grammar or spelling errors that i might’ve made cuz i write these late at night when my creativity sparks lmao)

Characteristics and qualities in the beginning of season 1

Even in the very first episode, Pang already showed some idealistic qualities. He always thought that the school system wasn’t fair, and he always tried doing the right thing (or what he thought was the right thing). His idealism wasn’t as extreme in the very beginning of the show, since he wasn’t as confident in his abilities. He probably didn’t have much interest in changing the school system when he (and the people around him) saw him as a dumb kid from classroom 8. Getting into the Gifted Program was what affected his idealism to the point where it became a fault.

Before he discovered his potential, he was most likely very confused about his “academic rank”. He was in classroom 8, yet he was in the Gifted Program... but he hadn’t found his potential yet. I can imagine him questioning his worth and how significant he really was; he was also one of the first kids in the gifted class to outwardly express how they felt about the unfair treatment of the ordinary students compared to the gifted students. This was probably because he got to experience both ends of the unequal treatment, unlike the rest of his gifted classmates.

In terms of intelligence, Pang is street smart. In episode one he thought of a distraction to not get caught stealing the test. He also used the egg drop parachute to save his phone. He is innovative and can create ideas and identify problems. In episode one (again), he noticed that Wave was sweating and seemed weak. He also noticed Ohm’s bloody nose and Mon moving a locker full of weights. He was aware of shit... but he’s not very aware of other people’s feelings... at least not fully.

Pang’s friendship with Nac hits different after the pangwave fight but anyways... Pang knew that he didn’t use the cheat sheet, and he couldn’t tell Nac anything about the Gifted Program, so he probably didn’t fully understand why Nac was so upset when he technically did nothing wrong. Nac even said he wasn’t upset that Pang was in the Gifted Program. I think that’s why Pang never talked it out with him and just kinda exploded at him. Even though he may see himself as empathetic, it’s really just him being idealistic. He mistakes his ideals about equality for empathy, when, in fact, those are two separate things. When it comes to individual people, I don’t think he’s very good at understanding them thoroughly enough. Nac’s reasons for being upset with Pang are realistic and valid. He’s in class 1, Pang’s in class 8, yet Pang was the one who got into the Gifted Program. Nac gave Pang a cheat sheet, and even though Pang denies using it, he couldn’t really believe that he got in with the grades he has. And on top of that, Pang doesn’t even tell him what happens in the class. Nac feels used and excluded, but Pang wasn’t paying attention to that. He ended up blaming the unfair system, which was just a factor of the conflict, but never took a moment to look at what he himself could’ve done to help the conflict, or even what he might’ve done wrong. but issokay cuz pang is a smol bean and i love him

Characteristics and qualities in the middle - the end of season 1

Lets talk about Pang discovering his potential in episode 6. He first noticed it when he told Nac to bang his head on a metal bar. This wasn’t the first time he used his potential on Nac, though. In the first episode he used it on him and said something like “don’t talk to me ever again”, and so Nac didn’t communicate with again him until episode 6. This was when Pang used his potential on him saying “why can’t we just talk it out?” and Nac was finally able to communicate his frustration. Nac was blaming Pang for shit he didn’t do and it was unreasonable, according to Pang, but Nac didn’t know the full story. If you look at the way Nac sees things: Pang is in the Gifted Program, Pang used me to get into the program (because there’s no way he just got in without using my cheat sheet), I got punished when Wave provoked me and Pang tried playing hero, as if he was some perfect angel. Pang has new friends, he has no use for me anymore, I don’t need him either, I find new friends, Pang suddenly joins in, everything goes haywire, my anger and frustration towards him explodes, and he just ignores what I’m feeling and tells me that I’m wrong and that I’m an asshole. Like I did something wrong, and he’s perfectly innocent. Lmao Nac is salty af. And he has a good reason to be. Pang doesn’t understand Nac’s thinking, and on top of that, he makes almost no effort to understand. His beliefs blind him into thinking he’s done no wrong.

Now lets talk about his actual potential, and how it affects him. His ego and self esteem rises, but Pang doesn’t notice it. It’s explained in the end of season 1 that the reason Pang lost is because he wanted to do everything on his own because he thought that only he was able to defeat the director. His ideals and his ego are very closely connected. Pang teams up with Wave because he thinks that Wave will be the most useful to stop Director Supot. Now, I don’t think Pang doesn’t care about his friends, but his actions are neglectful. When Pang teams up with Wave, he tells none of his other friends about what he’s doing. He doesn’t tell Namtaan or Ohm, literally his two closest friends, and convinces himself that he’s doing it to protect them. News flash, he isn’t. He’s trying to be a hero. His ego rapidly increasing might be because of how he was constantly ridiculed when he was in classroom 8, and suddenly he gets this power that makes him “superior” to ordinary people. Another possibility is that his ego was already big, but we he only showed it/applied it when he was trying to take down Director Supot.

Now lets talk about the season 1 finale: Pang becomes aware of his ego through the director foiling his plan and humiliating him. This is a big part of his development as a character. Ofc in season 2 he still has a problem with neglecting and doing things solo, but he become a little more aware, and for 2 whole year’s he’s able to somewhat-effectively lead the gifted gang in their fight against the anti-gifted.

Characteristics and qualities in season two (up until episode 7) 

Lets discuss: Ms Darin. aka ms loser. Remember in the beginning of episode 7 where he trusted her cuz of what she said and he noticed her actions (oop remember this trait from before? he’s aware of shit!), but it turned out it was all lies. He eventually got back on track after Third showed him the truth, and was smart enough not to trust Ms. Darin after that. I wanna guess that the reason he started trusting Ms. Darin so easily (other than what she said and did) is because he was in distress from failing Korn and Time. He needed some support, and he wouldn’t let his friends support him because “im a hero blah blah blah i dont wanna worry my friends they dont need to help me with my burdens cuz i can do it on my own :D” season 1 Pang type shit. Ms. Darin was an adult who seemed trustworthy enough, plus Director Supot was gone, and he was the main antagonist in season 1, so isn’t everything only gonna get better now that he’s gone? Plus when Grace said that he sounds like the adults lksdjlkjslfjjsdf THAT HIT ME.

Now I wanna talk about him with Chanon. I’m praying that Chanon is pure and not corrupted because if he is he might’ve used Pang and might do so in the future too... but let’s not focus on that. Pang finally has a mentor-figure in his life that he looks up. Someone to balance out his ego and show him that he can’t do everything on his own. yeah that’s all i have to say about that.

Punn. “You’re done, Pang.” Yeah lets talk about that because holy mcnuggets. Punn knows Pang well enough to know how intensely idealistic and passionate he is. Once the director is gone, Punn is like, bitch u got nothing else to obsess over MOVE ON. He’s basically saying Pang’s existence was so heavily tied with fixing the school system that when eveything’s fixed, he’ll be “done.” It’s similar to Five from the Umbrella Academy, where his whole life was set on fixing the apocalypse that he felt that life had no meaning without an apocalypse to prevent.

Now let’s talk about PangWave... I truly believe that Pang sees Wave as his equal, as his friend, and as a person whom he cares for deeply. His ego and idealism, topped with all the stress he’s going through (by himself), are dangerous towards his relationships. Wave feels used by Pang, and explains how Pang only comes to him when he needs his help, and avoids him when he disagrees with what Pang thinks. Pang is so fixated on his ideals and beliefs that he will do anything to make sure they become a reality. He’s obsessed, and it’s sooooo bad for his relationships with others. It shows that even on Namtaan’s bday, he can only think about “doing the right thing”, because that’s his number 1 priority. PANG JUST GIVE URSELF A BREAK PLEASE TAKE A METAL HEALTH DAY JUST SLKJFLSDKJJD MEDITATE OR SMTH.

I could type for several hours longer but I think this is enough word vomit for this post.

Summary

- VERY IDEALISTIC !!!! TO A FAULT

- He has somewhat of an inflated ego, but uses his ideals and beliefs to cover it up and convince himself that he is a “good person”

- He overworks his brain by never thinking of himself or other people’s emotions and focuses on his idealistic goals and his idealistic goals ONLY.

- He’s very aware of the things’s around him, and is street smart, but he’s not as aware when it comes to other people’s feelings and thoughts.

- He cares for his friends, but his extreme idealism ends up hurting them, and in turn hurting himself and further encouraging him to self-isolate.

- Independent, but this is mostly due to him thinking that he can handle problems on his own and he doesn’t want to get others involved.

- He is becoming more aware of his wrong actions, hence him apologising to Wave about going after Korn without him, but not enough to actually prevent these wrong actions.

- didn’t talk about this much but GUILT!!! I can tell that he feels immense guilt (especially in the latest episodes) whenever one of his friends get hurt and he’s very involved in what got them hurt. However, when it comes to hurting people emotionally, his guilt is tricky to read. At least for me it is lmao. Cuz he doesn’t always fully understand his friends’ feelings because he can’t always admit that he’s done something wrong, but with the recent pangwave fight he definitely felt some type of guilt there. Or maybe it was frustration? idk skjdflajsdfl someone else step in on this one pls

- He needs rest and a mental break. And some therapy maybe? Like please can one caring adult help this poor child.

- His character is actually pretty consistent wow the writing in this show is great.

- a cute boi who needs a hug. Preferably from Wave and/or Ohm.

[luo-not-lou]

Hey! Can you do an hc of an kenma x reader whenever his S/o live streams on his channel with his hoodies on without him knowing?

Kenma With an S/O who streams in his chanel

Warnings: a dumb reader, crack, little to no angst, fluff

Tbh, I dont think Kenma will ever allow you to Stream in his account because he takes it very seriously, but, after a dumb mistake, you did

Kenma and you are both gamers

A really cute gamer couple

He started streaming because after he tried because Kuroo insisted, he realizad he enjoyed it and plus, he gained profit, and since you were a gamer too, you decided to give it a try

And of course, you wanted to use his setup tbh who wouldnt im jealous

Kenma Is a really good bf, so of course he allowed you to use his gamer chair, his special cat headphones, his límited edition mouse, and his two screens because he luvs you

He was out the day you decided you wanted to try streaming, and whenever he was out, you wore his clothes to feel close to him

He adores when you do that so he buys hoodies he knows you would like more than he does to see you in his clothes

Anyway, Kenma gave you a vague explaniation of how Twitch worked, showing you how to start the stream, read the chat, and all of that because you hardly ever used the platform

However, one thing he didnt say was that you HAD to change accounts because if you didnt, the stream would start on his chanel and all that

Of course, you were oblivius to that detail

So when every follower of KozuKen got a notification of him playing CoD nobody thought much of it until they went to the stream

You were kinda surprised that the stream got so many viewers in such a short time, however, since you werent really familiar with Tiwtch you thought it was normal, and decided to focus on the game to impress your viewers and make small talk while the chat was literally SPAMMING CRAZY and you were gladly ignoring it

However the 30K viewers were not pleased

Everyone there was so confused

Nobody knew you of course

"Is this a Joke or sm from Kozu?" "lol it's probably his roomate making a prank on him"

Everybody was making theories of you but nobody thought that you were his significant other, because he said multiple times he didnt have one

However, everyone agreed that you HAD to be close to him, because you were wearing a Hoodie he wore in a special stream for Halloween with a original desing on the shoulders and chest

One he chose with his follower

So...

After two hours and a lot of donations of people asking you random stuff about you, you decided it was enough for the day and for your first stream

You were turning the stream off and going to the kitchen to eat something when all of the sudden the door slamed open

You screamed of course

Kenma rushed to the computer without even saying hi how rude Kenma

Turning his head fast and almost glaring you he goes

"Did you stream in my account?"

"I dont know??"

"How do 'you dont know'?!?"

"I dont know how Twitch works babe!"

"THEN WHY YOU STARTED THE STREAM WITHOUT ME"

"I DONT KNOW"

Yup it would be probably something like that

He just turns his head and growls in frustration

He was scrolling through Twitter while walking home and saw his name on trend, but the trend wasnt about him, but rather who was streaming with his account

He panicked and rushed home

Thats what happend

He's not really angry at you he just doesnt want to face the concecuences of this problem because it's one of his worsts fears

Now you're a little angry at him for just coming home and screaming at you after being out all day, so you leave the kitchen and go to bed without a second glance

He sighed and watched a little of your stream in the platform to see what the fuck happend

Even tho he was annoyed, the cute faces you made when someone donated and talked to, or the fact that you were wearing his hoodie you was just too cute, but the sounds of Twitter exploting in his phone for answers about you dragged him down to talk to you

You on the other side, were already in bed a little upset and angry at your boyfriend

Of course your intention wasnt making Kenma angry, you knew how serious he takes this, you wouldnt do that to him on purpouse, didnt he saw that? Did he really tought you would do that to him? yes you fucked up but it was technically his fault since he didnt explained correctly but-

"Baby, are you up?"

You didnt respond to him, still angry and didnt face him

That didnt stopped Kenma tho, he crawled to your side of the and hugged you from behind, speaking soflty to your ear

"Im sorry babe, I should have teached you how Twitch worked properly, it wasnt your fault" he said with his head buried in your shoulder

You were at the verge of tears, so your voice sounded a little weak

"...I didnt do it on purpouse, im sorry ko-"

"No babe dont apologize, just next time be around me when you stream ok? The... The reason I was angry was because now everyone knows about you and I.. I just wanted to protect you from my fans, even if they eventualy were going to find out about you"

You turned around facing him and he held you tighter, smiling lazily and whiping your tears with kisses

"My Hoodie feels good on you"

"Does it?"

"Yeah, wear it for me more often" was the last thing he said before kissing you and turning the lights off to drift to sleep in your arms

This feels More like a drabble than Headcanons but i wanted to try something new UwU, anyways i hope you enjoy