#will probably find out on friday anyway and its just. chill. its not like i was super invested in this i will easily get over it

[exopelagic]

tragic: the one time he’s actually queer he has a girlfriend

[enkas-illusion]

About My Man

About My Man - Part 1/5

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: SFW - Regardless, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, language, hurt/comfort

Chapter Summary: Question – How to tell your crush that he is your crush without actually having to admit that you have a crush on him? 

Author’s Note: Hello, another Choso short story, this time with his personatilie stolen from my beloved boyfriend. All characters are in their mid 20s. I've tried to keep the job as vague as possible so that the girlies could be delusional in peace. This is gonna be a 3-part story (probably). Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: for lovers who hesitate by JANNABI

“What about yours?” you hear the words but your brain fails to register them.

You stare at your crush, nothing but creeping panic behind your eyes while he looks at you expectantly.

What was he talking about again?

“What about me?” you smile at him awkwardly.

“Is it just me or has she been zoning out quite a lot recently?” Your other colleague Satoru interjects, further highlighting your unusual aloofness.

“Yup, I've noticed it as well,” Choso, the crush in question, agrees. 

“It's just that… I'm worried about the Smith’s project,” you lie.

“... that we closed today?” Satoru raises an eyebrow in suspicion. 

Thanks, Sherlock!

“Well, I’m just worried as the team leader, I guess?” You try your best to make your lie seem legit.

“Okay nerd… anyway, Choso was really interested in your love life,” Satoru giggles. You look at Choso for clarification and he stares back alarmed.

“That’s not– Maki was talking about the guy she met last week so I just wondered about yours,” Choso explains and you turn to look at Maki and she simply giggles, akin to the female lead of a romcom on finding the superhot main lead, as her body practically melts on the sofa.

“Whatever gave you the impression that I was dating someone?” you ask Choso curiously.

“Umm… I actually overheard your conversation last week when you were talking to Luna in the kitchen,” his face shows his embarrassment clearly as he confesses laughing awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “Not much though! Just before I got there, I heard you gushing over someone, so I assumed you were dating?”

Question: How to tell your crush that he is your crush without actually having to admit that you have a crush on him?

“Oh” you chuckle dryly, “you know it’s not nice to eavesdrop, Cho.” 

You give your colleague-cum-roommate, Luna, a quick glance filled with panic and it’s enough for her to take over the matter to ‘help’ you.

“Yup, she’s in a long distance relationship. Thought you guys knew?” Luna's lie had a much better flair than whatever you would’ve blurted out.

However, pardon, the fuck? 

How did you even get here? This was supposed to be one of your regular chill Friday nights with the group hanging out at your and Luna's apartment as per usual. 

Due to its location being the closest to your office, your house was the unofficial hangout spot after work on the weekends. 

Naturally, you find yourself cursing the moment you invited everyone for late night drinks tonight. 

Satoru’s voice breaks your inner monologue, “Really? Since when?”

“Since when what?” you ask.

“Now I think you’re just pretending to be clueless!” the white-haired devil complains.

“I’m just tired… from doing all your work too!” you tease him.

“Don’t change the topic,” his smile drops as he stares dead into your eyes, “Since when have you been dating this guy? How did I not get the info on him yet?”

“A few weeks?” you say it more like a question than a definitive answer.

“Oh, good for you,” Choso gives you a formal obligatory smile but doesn’t ask any more questions. 

“Well, don’t be shy! Tell us more about the lucky guy,” if only Satoru knew when to shut the fuck up too.

“Oh, it’s nothing really… Just someone back home,” you end it at that, hoping for this torture to end soon.

“Hmm, what’s his name?” the hell, in fact, did not end.

Right in that moment, as if your brain shifted into autopilot mode, desperate to save you from a huge embarrassment, your mouth uttered a name that surprised you too, “Suguru.”

Luna looks at you, impressed by how well you’re holding up the lie, but decides to help you by changing the topic out of mercy, “Omg, guys, I totally forgot to tell you but did you hear that Kento’s girlfriend apparently cheated on him? I mean, imagine cheating on the Nanami Kento.”

“Wait, the perfect looking blondie from accounts?” Gojo asks curiously.

You’d heard the story last week in detail so you quickly excuse yourself to go to the kitchen. You get a bottle of cold water and chug it down, feeling it ease the dry burning sensation in your throat. You sigh as you crouch against the kitchen counter.

What the fuck? To recap, you just destroyed all hopes of a possible romance between you and your current crush by lying about a fake relationship with your ancient teenage crush. Cool!

“You alright?” Choso’s voice startles you as you turn to look at him and smile.

“Yeah, just tired,” you sigh. 

“So… Suguru, huh?” he states plainly as he grabs another bottle from the refrigerator, standing across from you. 

You half-convince yourself to tell him the truth but don’t quite get there as your fear of embarrassment outweighs everything else. So you end up with just a half-baked, “Yup…”

“Hmm”

“Why? Does it bother you?” you tease him as usual to dissolve the awkwardness.

“Can’t say I’m thrilled…” he mumbles, looking up at you. His eyes hold your gaze in a stupor and for a moment you actually wonder if there’s still some hope left for you.

“To be hon–” your sentence is cut off when the white-haired devil reappears.

“Choso, we're leaving. Still want me to drop you home?” Satoru waits at the entrance of the kitchen. 

“Yup, let's go,” Choso replies before looking at you again, “I guess I'll see you later then... good night.”

You just nod and hug him briefly when he extends his arms for you before the two guys leave.

As much as you liked Choso Kamo, it was impossible to decipher whether he reciprocated your feelings or not. And you weren’t too keen on making a fool of yourself in such an astronomical manner.

Well, what’s another unrequited crush, right?

“Did I fuck it up?” Luna asks, guilt lacing her voice, the minute she closes the door when everyone leaves.

“Kinda? Can't say I blame you though. You were just trying to save me from imminent embarrassment,” you let out a dry chuckle as you collapse on your living room sofa. 

“Is it really that big of a deal? Just tell Choso you like him. It's like ripping off a band-aid,” she sits next to you.

“Well… you just reinforced the band-aid with concrete,” you laugh, finding your own misery weirdly amusing.

A few moments pass by in silence. While you may not have the power to hear your roommate’s thoughts, you know her well enough to believe she’ll have a solution for your problem soon enough. As if on cue, she speaks again.

“Umm… How about… tell the guys you couldn't do long distance! Say that Suguru broke up with you in like a week or so?” she suggests.

You stare into nothingness, contemplating it seriously – wondering all the possibilities and details of the elaborate lie. Luna brings you back to the present with her next question. 

“Anyway, who's Suguru? Does the man exist in real life?”

You snort at her question, “Very real… kinda wish he wasn't though.”

She waits for you to explain further so you continue, “You remember the story about the guy from my hometown? About the guy who kissed me but then decided he wasn’t sure if he was a ‘relationship kinda guy’?”

“Oh! That was Suguru?!” Luna exclaims, connecting the dots.

“Yup… first real crush and real kiss… you know, the tongue type,” you sigh as you reminisce, causing Luna to giggle at the dramatic look on your face.

“Hey! Don't laugh… it was right before we both left for college, shit hurt,” you pierce a fake dagger into you heart.

“Aww. Just one week babe. Put an end to your fake relationship and go back to whatever you got going with Choso,” she reiterates the game plan.

“Right… I might be into it even deeper for Choso than I ever was for Suguru. I really do need to fix this,” you mumble in a defeated tone.

“Hey, stop with the depressed, longing-for-love look! Just tell him how you feel for fucks sake!” she scolds you.

“Right, I'll sort this out and tell Choso how I feel!” You say with a half-determined half-dubious look in your eyes.

You get up to retire to your bedroom, leaving your friend behind and find your peace in the comfort of your dreams for the night.

~~~

The very next weekend, you make sure to set the record straight and tell the group about your very ‘sad’ breakup, cooking up an elaborate story about how the distance took its toll on the relationship and blah blah blah – catching yourself just enough to not go overboard with the lie.

You caught a sympathetic look from Choso that covered up the relief of his jealous heart well. 

“Well, you deserve better anyway,” he patted your head softly.

“Thanks,” you chuckled, “but you don’t even know the guy.”

“I know you well enough to know that you deserve someone who doesn't let distance get in the way of showing his love,” there's sincerity in his voice and you try your best not to blush and turn into a puddle right then.

The whole evening your mind's preoccupied with gauging how long you could wait after your fake breakup to confess to Choso without seeming like a psycho who doesn't experience heartbreak.

Luna suggests a period of mourning for a week. You counter it with ‘2 months… MINIMUM’. By the end of your discussion with your roommate, you decide on 1 month. 

In one month's time, you'll confess to Choso… or try your best to seduce him into confessing instead.

You still had time to plan the details.

Or so you'd thought. 

A week passes by and you slowly start to get back your usual friendly flirtatious relation with Choso, who for reasons unknown to you, had really started to get more daring with his advances.

So when your phone rings in the morning as you reach your doorsteps, right after your morning run together, you pick it up with a bright “Hiiiii”

“Hi gorgeous, how you doin’?” his voice resonates at the other end of the call.

“You mean since the last 15 minutes when you dropped me off at my place?” You giggle as you try to find your apartment keys in your gym bag with one hand.

“Every minute we're apart is torture to me,” if someone heard Choso speak, they would reach the conclusion that you were indeed entering the talking stage with him.

“You know I have enough cheese at home, right?” You joke, but not without smiling ear to ear.

“Ha. Ha.” he says plainly, yet he can't help but let his tone give his giddiness away even when he's trying to be sarcastic, “When should we get the pizzas?”

You jimmy the keys in the lock before pausing to think, “I'll ask Lu, but 7 should be fine, I guess? Anyway, that's 9pm on Gojo time.”

You don't hear Choso’s next sentence because your attention shifts to someone calling your name behind you.

You turn around and it takes a moment for you to register the presence of the man standing in front of you. 

A man so beautifully breathtaking that you can’t help but check him out purely based on natural human instinct. A beauty so magnetic that even those without any intention would risk it all for him.

You stare at his tall, muscular built – arms covered in exquisite tattoos that play hide and seek on his skin, obscured by the half rolled up sleeves of his hoodie. Long black hair tied up in a loose bun with two short strands escaping the rubber band's hold to adorn the outline of his face.

And his face, the only part you recognize as if it were just yesterday that you saw him and let him break your heart before you left town for dreams of a better future.

“Hello?” Choso's voice on the other end snaps you back to reality. 

“Cho, I'll call you back,” you hang up, finding yourself in a state of reverie.

“Hi stranger… Do you remember me?” the man smiles at you.

“Of course I do, Suguru.”

~to be continued~

Part 2

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Something Sweet; Chapter 1

read the prologue here, and chapter 2 here! please leave your thoughts- I’d love to improve! Enjoy!

word count: 1,700+

Black Friday is no different than Thanksgiving for your bakery. Nobody really comes in- it’s just a day of experimentation for you. You have a cake to decorate for tomorrow, anyway, so you’re happily occupied for the day.

You think about the guy from yesterday a lot. You hope that he’s okay, and that he got himself to wherever he was going safely. You catch yourself thinking about him a little too often- you have to admit, you did find him cute.

The cake you’ve been commissioned to make is for some little kid’s birthday party, and your instructions were to make it explicitly Spider-Man themed. You’ve been caught up on the MCU for quite some time- it’s not that good anymore, to be honest- but the Spider-Verse movies were some of the best you’d seen in recent years. You spend the morning dying buttercream red while the sponge cake itself chills in the freezer.

You must be a little too absorbed in it, however, because somebody calls “Hello?” into the back.

When you see him, your heart gives a happy little flutter. “You.”

He looks much better than yesterday. The bags under his eyes are lighter, he isn’t as fidgety, and there’s an air of sobriety about him. “Yeah. Me. I realize we never introduced ourselves..” You can hear paper crinkle in his hands, but you can’t see what he’s holding from over the pastry display. Maybe you were wrong about the fidgeting bit.

“I’m Kendall. Kendall Roy.” He sticks his hand over the counter, and you shake it.

“So that’s how I know you.” His grip is firm, despite his otherwise raggedy appearance. It’s what you’d expect of a Roy. “I’m Y/N. I own the place.”

“Um, can we…?” he gestures back to a booth. You round the counter and you both settle across from each other like yesterday. You can see what Kendall was fidgeting with now- a tiny bouquet of lillies held together by a sloppily tied pink ribbon. “For you. Because I was freeloading yesterday.”

You take the flowers and set them in your lap, smiling softly. “You really didn’t need to. You needed some help yesterday, so I gave it to you.”

He looks down into his hands. He’s not dressed as nicely as he was yesterday- no watch, no dress pants, just sweats and a hoodie. “I have those episodes sometimes, and the wrong people always get caught in them. I really do want to make it up to you.”

“Again, you really did nothing wrong. I mean, sure, whatever you were on yesterday probably wasn’t a good idea, but we live and we learn, right?” You stand, holding the flowers to your torso. “Want coffee?”

“I’ll pay for one, yes.”

You round the counter again, setting the bouquet somewhere safe and you start the coffee machine with some coffee bits you ground that morning. “No, you won’t.”

“I’m being serious.” Kendall hadn’t followed you into the back, peeping over the counter like a puppy separated from its mother. “I have the money to spare.”

“We’re friends. I really don’t mind, Kendall.”

His name, you realize, sounds perfect off your tongue.

“But I do, Y/N.” He peers up at the menus hanging from your ceiling. “You only charge $2 for a coffee? You’re a saint.” He takes out his wallet and tosses a wad of twenties across the counter.

“I’m not taking that,” you say over your shoulder, pouring coffee into two separate cups. “Do you want cream or sugar? Or maybe you’re a honey and milk guy?”

“Just some honey, please. And I don’t care. You’re keeping the change.”

You don’t say anything, sliding him a cup.

જ⁀➴

You’d argued over who’d take the money for another ten minutes before you kicked him out of the bakery for impudence. Kendall, accepting defeat, had scribbled his number on a napkin and pressed it into your hand, and now here you sat trying to figure out what to text him.

Eventually, you settle on keeping it simple; hey kendall, it’s y/n !

He responds almost immediately.

It’s good to hear from you.

A pause.

I thought you wouldn’t text me.

He texts the way he talks, you think.

what makes you think that? i think you’re fun

Well, my first impression on you wasn’t really good, was it?

clearly it was, otherwise i’d have burned the napkin

Ha.

Another pause.

You’re a good sport for taking the money.

what? but i didn’t

Check your purse.

The minute you get the message, you grab your purse from the ground where you’d unceremoniously dumped it on the ground when you got home. All you had to do was unzip it to find the same wad of twenties from before. That bastard.

you’re not serious

It’s there, isn’t it?

how much is this? coffee is $2, you really shouldn’t have

I felt like it. Count it out.

You take a moment to do just that- and end at $5,000.

kendall, this is crazy

Is it? I owe you.

i keep telling you, you don’t owe me anything. at this point, i owe you

Don’t worry about it.

You sit there, blankly staring at your phone. Sure, you knew the Roys were mega millionaires and owned helicopters and yachts and probably seventy different properties, but you would have never expected one of them to drop $5,000 on you so easily. Why you? You’re a baker just barely surviving- what even brought him to your place, anyway?

Actually- are you free this Christmas?

always am

Would you cater dessert for my family’s dinner? You’d get paid well. Then you could actually afford to keep your coffee $2. Ha.

You didn’t know whether to be offended or not.

seriously?

My dad fired the last one after an incident with a pineapple. Besides, your baking is heavenly.

you only had a cupcake, kenny

I had my assistant come by this morning. I’m thorough.

You think back on the morning. Someone had come by and ordered an obscene amount… you’d just taken it as some Thanksgiving work party.

You’d probably have to come in and do a test run. He’s picky.

if you’re serious…

Perfect. Am I allowed another favor?

i think i owe you a hit after all this

Let me take you out to dinner after. And kill any of my siblings. Then we’re even.

જ⁀➴

You wake up the next morning feeling like you stuck a fork into an electrical socket. You’re nervous, excited, nauseous. You root around in your closet for your lucky apron and shove it into your tote for the day. You slide around the hardwood flooring in your socks, organizing things for your day. You and Kendall agreed that he’d come get you at ten and take you to the supermarket for whatever it is his father would request.

Were you worried? Not about Logan, no. You were more nervous about the date you had with Kendall than you were about baking. All he had said was to bring something nice to wear after.

The flowers he brought you yesterday sit comfortably on your kitchen counter. They were handed to you perfectly prepared for a vase.

While some part of you wants this to be a romantic date, the other, more rational part thinks this is just him and his ‘I owe you’ mindset.

You live in a townhouse pasted to the back of your bakery. It was great, in your opinion. You don’t need to pay rent- only make payment on the bakery -and you can never really be late for work. It makes your life much easier, and you’re grateful you were able to nab it when you did.

There’s a sharp, sort of erratic knock at your door. You gather all of your stuff, put on your shoes, and greet a Kendall who’s obviously high. He smells faintly of weed, which years in pastry school helped you pick up.

“What the fuck?” is the first thing out of your mouth. “You drove here?”

He blinked. “What? No. Chauffer.”

While you didn’t claim to know anything about Kendall, you could use your critical thinking skills and assume that this was a normal occurrence. What was he trying to take the edge off of? He didn’t seem like the type to do drugs for the fun of it. He was running one of the biggest conglomerates in the nation, even the world. What made him turn to drugs? You feel like you should say something, but you decide on figuring that out later.

Kendall flat-out gives you his phone, saying something about how his father wanted a key-lime pie and he found a recipe if you needed. High Kendall, you note, is much more droll and glum than sober Kendall. Sober Kendall was sweet, witty, and funny, in his own way. It’s like his mind is on autopilot. He stares out of the window blankly.

The car pulls up to the local grocery store and you glance at Kendall sitting next to you. “Are you coming?”

He blinks again, processing. “Yeah. Sure.” You scurry through the store, making Kendall carry the ingredients you picked out for the pie crust and key-lime filling. He follows mindlessly, only offering the occasional ‘yeah’ or ‘maybe this one, it’s bigger’ when picking out fruit.

When you’re back in the car, surrounded by plastic bags, you turn to Kendall. The driver abruptly slams the breaks, and Kendall’s arm shoots out in front of you and keeps you reasonably still, keeping himself from blasting through the windshield by bracing his other arm on the seat in front of him.

“Fuck, calm down!” He peers out of the window. “Cyclists are an epidemic,” he mutters.

“People still do that in the street?” you ask, following his gaze.

“Only dicks. They’re like chihuahuas. They think they’re cars.”

You can’t contain your awe when you pull up to the Roy townhouse. “It’s gorgeous,” you murmur.

“Gets uglier when you meet who’s in it.”

“Okay, Kendall, you’re very encouraging.”

He stops you as you try gather the plastic bags of groceries to take upstairs with you. “Don’t bother. You’ll be great. Go up, Marcia will meet you. I’ll see you later?”

You step out of the car and stare up at the townhouse. You look back over your shoulder and give Kendall a wave, who returns it awkwardly before you make the quick journey up the complex in the elevator.

Marcia greats you with a smile on her face. “Y/N, correct? How lovely to meet you.” She beckons you into the home, heading straight to the kitchen. Other servants have brought up the groceries, and you fish out your apron from your own tote.

You have no idea how you got here, but you’re excited to see where you go.

[gemgirl28]

Prompt: "I shouldn't have come here." Zutara, please?

Have a great day, Gem! ^.^

Hello my dear! Thanks for the prompt! On a whole its been a rather chill Friday. I hope you have a great weekend!

I shouldn't have come here.

Zuko didn't realize his feet had carried him to Katara's door until he nearly walked into it. He froze, hand raised to knock, and seriously questioned what he was about to say.

Sorry it's the middle of the night. No, I know you were probably up, waterbender and all, but anyways... I just read Aang's letter and... Katara, why didn't you tell me?

Shaking his head, Zuko willed himself to walk away, to curl up in his bed, to sleep on it and discuss it with her in the morning.

But something deep within him refused, and he watched his hand softly knock on her door without his permission.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered under his breath, praying she was asleep, that he could still walk away and try again in the-

"Zuko?" She asked, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here so late," he said, willing his body to get back under his control.

"It's okay, I was having a hard time sleeping anyways." She frowned, likely noticing the bags under his eyes and the way he fidgeted with the sleeves of his robes. "Is something wrong?"

No.

Yes.

I'm not sure.

Anyone of these would have been an acceptable answer. Instead, what came out was, "Why didn't you tell me you broke up with Aang?"

She winced, and he immediately regretted it. It wasn't his business to prod and poke, no matter how much it stung that she'd arrived at the palace four days ago and yet he had to find out that his two best friends had broken up from a letter.

"I- I was working my way up to it," she said awkwardly. His brow furrowed, hands reaching for hers.

"I'm sorry I pushed but... Katara you can tell me anything. Anything. I'm sorry if I've done or said something to lead you to believe otherwise, but there is nothing you could say that would make me think less of you."

To his horror, tears started streaming down her cheeks. Realizing they were still in the hallway where a servant or guard could pass by, Zuko gently pulled her into her room and onto the couch in front of the fire.

"I'm sorry," he said, holding her and running his hand up and down her back. She laughed.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, I do," she said. Katara looked up at him with her beautiful eyes, even red-rimmed with tears. "Do you mean it? I could tell you anything and.. you wouldn't think less of me?"

"I swear," Zuko swiftly said. Katara swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I broke up with Aang."

"I got that much, yes."

"He thinks its because I'm tired of the way people treat me like his trophy first and a person second."

"He failed to mention that," Zuko said, voice dropping.

"That's only part of the reason, though."

"Oh?"

"The truth is... I'm in love with someone else. Even if Aang wasn't gone over half the year, even if he didn't put me on a damn pedestal, I still wouldn't feel right being with him anymore."

"I- I see," Zuko said, his heart breaking in two.

"And the reason-" she barreled on, "-that I had to work my way up to telling you any of this is- its you. I'm in love with you." A fresh wave of tears poured down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

It took him longer than he cared to admit to fully register her words. "Sor- Katara what could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I kept the news from you and I'm sorry for ruining our friendship with my stupid feelings."

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, even as she glared at him. "Your feelings aren't stupid. I'm terribly in love with you myself."

"You- you are?!"

He laughed again at her astonishment, as if he could have done anything but fallen in love with her. "Yes, I- mphf."

Her kiss was salty from her tears, but he thought it fitting for the daughter of the ocean. He kissed her gently, pulling her close, winding his fingers in her loose hair.

When he woke in the morning, too early, in her bed, with Katara laid across him, he decided it was a good thing he came to her room last night after all.

Send me a prompt and a pairing!

[journey-of-the-ip]

May 10th

Today, I feel young.

We haven’t had this much spontaneous energy in a long time! remember to write more here when you’re not on mobile please

Me from May 12th, I didn't forget! Today was a fantastic day. It was a Friday, and work was mostly meetings. Oh yeah its not on the blog, right now I work for Inscopix, I've been working here for almost exactly a year now, and I'm working on getting our first internal users to use the toolbox creator app. I'm also working on making some basic activity metrics tools for the platform. That seems really boring to me now, but its always weird to see what I remember and what I forget when I look back in time haha.

Anyways! On to the more exciting things. After work Vanessa and I went to our dance class, which is a beginner/intermediate hip hop class with an emphasis on popping and waving. We spent the first half of class just focused on the popping and waving practice, doing grooves and working on fundamentals which I really appreciated. Then the second half of class was only cleaning the parts of the choreo that we had already learned! Our teacher Sean is actually really good at cleaning, I feel like in the past so far cleaning has really just meant "we're going to run it a bunch and you figure out what it means for you" but Sean was really explicit. He was like here I want your weight to move like this, I want your arms to have this energy, lets do this 4 count really slow, etc. and it really made a difference! We talked with Sean a little after class and he gave us good advice on how to practice being groovier and how to make things feel looser and stuff.

We went home and some how it was already 9:30 so we went to shower and get ready for the aurora!!!! Oh Shit I haven't even mentioned that in the text yet, so this morning Vanessa heard that there was the biggest geomagnetic storm in 20 years or something, and that there was a chance to see the Aurora boralis here in seattle! So we made plans to go out near snoqualmie pass to get away from the light pollution and try and see it.

Okay now its 9:30 and its almost time to leave already, I kinda expected there would be a lot of time to chill and wait for the aurora, but we had to shower really quick and then headed out right away.

As we were driving, there was still a ton of traffic even though it was probably 10:40 at the time, Biden is in town right now, but I think some of the traffic was actually a lot of people also trying to get away from the light pollution!

As we were driving out, Kimmie started to notice what she thought was an aurora, but Vanessa dismissed it as a cloud, because with all the light still around it was really hard to see the any colors, and also we've never seen a aurora in real life before lol. But as we continued driving out, it became more and more distinct! Interestingly, for some reason, the camera was able to pick up the aurora waayyy better than our eyes, which I guess makes sense? But I started using my camera as a viewfinder to help me know where to look and then I'd stare at it to see if I could actually see it haha.

Eventually we got to the trail head (Props to Seyoung for driving, the traffic was really turbulent and unexpected and Kimmie, Vanessa, and I were all clamoring about the aurora but he kept it cool and safe for us on the road). There were so many cars at the trail head! Literally on both sides of the trail for half a mile down the road. We parked pretty early and got out, walking past all the cars still trying to find parking, which was a really good call.

We were blinded by headlights for a while before actually getting to the trail head, but finally we got out to where it was dark out and it. was. crazy.

You could see the aurora so clearly! There were parts that were barely colored, but there were definitely areas that were bright pink or green. It was really cool because the aurora was constantly changing, every time you looked up it was a little different, or there was a new light curtain. We spent about 20 minutes taking pictures and marveling, it was amazing but I also for some reason expected it to idk, feel like I was being spiritually blessed? Or unlocking my avatar chakra? but it was just a really beautiful sight haha

After we spent a decent amount of time gazing at the sky, we went back to the car, and I jokingly suggested that we get dimsum, but surprisingly pretty much everyone was down! So we spontaneously got dimsum at 2am on the way back home. I was so happy, it felt like undergrad energy again where you're just doing fun stuff with your friends and you feel unlimited.

We got back home and crashed into bed almost immediately.

What a wonderful day. I hope I remember it for a long time

[pastedpast]

These are a few of my favourite pics from about ten years ago. The last one I named 'Shaman Calling Her Allies'. (I suppose I ought to find out what its real title is!). The writer Emma Mitchell ('The Wild Remedy') curates bits and bobbins of nature and takes aerial photos of them because she suffers from terrible depression, and it's been proven that such activities have a positive effect on brain chemistry. I wrote quite a good article about it ages ago - there's a special term for the process, though the word escapes me, I have forgotten - on one of my now-deactivated Fbk profiles. Anyway, I can relate to what she says, as I find curating pictures I've found on the Internet and photographs that either I or Tch have taken, to be equally therapeutic. It probably sounds odd, but pictures become a comfort, like familiar friends, which is really useful when you don't have many/any!!

Ideally, I'd like to print out most of my pictures which I've saved scattershot in various devices and accounts and store them in scrapbooks so they'd be easier to view, but it would be far too costly to do now. If only I had done this as I went along, the cost would have appeared minimal if carried out gradually.

I'm reminded of a time about thirteen years ago when I was having something of a panic attack. I was desperately waiting for the result of a job interview I'd attended for a library post in Fife, literally sitting by the laptop with my e-mail account open constantly from Monday 9am to Friday 5:30pm. Patience is not my thing at the best of times, but in this instance the waiting was excruciating. I got into such a state one evening that I ended up going to the walk-in centre in town and the nurse kindly gave me a paper bag to breathe into. When I got back home, still anxious, I decided to look at my photograph albums of pics I'd taken on my travels across the country while attending other job interviews. And this was like taking a chill pill - it calmed me the f**k down, at least while I was looking at the photographs.

The e-mail (a computer-generated "Sorry, on this occasion you have been unsuccessful") took three agonising weeks to arrive. I remember being so fraught on the Friday evening of the second week, knowing I had a whole weekend of silence ahead of me, that first thing the next morning I caught a bus to The Works stationery supply shop and bought loads of cheap paints, brushes and canvases. I spent all weekend painting. Now, I have no talent with paints and my efforts ended up in the bin afterwards, but for those two days I was, again, in chill city.

It's not always easy to remember these little strategies when you are feeling deeply unhappy, to shift your arse out of the pits of self-pity, or the depths of despair, but both activities were almost miraculous in lifting my mood. Another example was a day when my state of mind was horrendous - I just went onto the Pinterest website and organised loads of pictures into categories, hoping to engage the logical parts of my brain rather than the emotional; I still felt terrible, but less so.

It's rare I feel depressed these days, but it can always strike again, so it's useful to try to remember these simple coping strategies. Anyone reading this might also find these suggestions helpful.

[darklingichor]

How To Be Champion, by Sarah Millican

Well, I did it again, I have too many books and not enough year left, so time to post and extra entry!

I recently discovered Sarah Millican's stand ups and I love them! In one of them, she mentioned her book and I knew I had to read it.

It's fantastic! Other than Jenny Lawson, I don't think I've related so much to someone's writing.

How To Be Champion is part autobiography, part essay collection, and part advice column. In this book "Champion " is slang for good, okay, content, happy.

Ms. Millican is from the North in England and like every geographical region, has its own slang.

Me being raised in the PNW in the 90's the closest equivalent would probably be "How To Be Chill". But I like Champion better, doesn't have the demand of calmness.

Anyway, Ms. Millican goes through her childhood with supportive parents and people at school largely being twatwaffles and this was my experience too.

Something I absolutely loved and I think should be on posters in schools across the globe is when she said not to worry if you don't have a romantic relationship when you're in school, you're there to learn.

I had that viewpoint when I was in school, why do I need to worry about dating when I'm having enough trouble with algebra? I couldn't care less if I had a date on Friday, someone help me understand why someone put the alphabet into math!

She discovers in school that she can write well.

She details her life working hard at several jobs, and getting married young and then getting divorced, before getting into stand up.

Some of the chapters I liked best were ones where she went into how she found wonderful friends who supported her though developing her act as a comic, and the ones where she let's it rip on beauty standards, and life expectations of women.

Ms. Millican has commited the sin of being a woman above a size 2, who doesn't have aspirations of becoming a size 2 and (rightly) thinks that how she looks has nothing to do with her worth as a person or a comic. She has a career, a new loving husband, and pets but doesn't want kids. How dare she make a call like that regarding her own life?

Honestly, I find her inspiring. As a woman who is also bigger and is okay with it most days, it's nice to hear about this from someone who isn't just "love your body" but also "Why the fuck does it matter??"

She wrote about the time she was nominated for a BAFTA and found a dress, and prepared for a fun night out with her husband. This happened, but afterwards she was insulted on the internet and in the press proclaiming that the dress that she wore was awful and she was fat and ugly.

This is just so crappy. And unnecessary, why attack someone like that?

She wrote publicly about how this affected her and how she would just wear that dress again the next year. She happened to have been working the next year, but wore that dress to her show. Hell yeah!

By the way, I was curious about the dress, there's a pic in the book showing part of it, but I wanted to see it full length so: Google. My first thought was: "I want that dress!" It's so pretty!

And Ms. Millican looked damn good in it, but the important thing was that she said she felt good in it, and it's unfair that some people try to take that away from others.

When it comes to kids, it was also cool to read about someone who is open about not wanting kids, and also open about how annoying it is when everyone tells you that you will change your mind, as if other people know what you feel better than you do.

It isn't just the parts that I related to that made this book great, it's also fucking hilarious

From interactions with her family to vacations and outings with her husband to her recipe for cake, this book made me laugh out loud so many times. I adored it!

[5csbin]

make-out sesh!

taehyun x reader genre: fluff & suggestive warning: hickeys & making out ofc and a bit of grinding

it was so addicting to make out with taehyun, his pretty pink lips always left you in a daze.

it was six months into being taehyuns girlfriend and it was also the first time y’all had ever made out. after it you two just kept on making out everywhere.

his pretty lips on yours and his hands on your waist made you feel butterfly’s in your stomach all over again.

this week was one of the most hectic weeks. exams were going on all week you weren’t able to see much of taehyun.

so once school ended on friday you both decided to chill in your house and watch whatever series came up on netflix.

you two both walk in to the nearest corner store to your house and get whatever snacks you both wanted payed and went on a walk back to your home.

“taehyun!” you giggled as he just got done telling you a bad joke as you walked into your house.

slipping your sneakers off your feet and slipping on your slippers, taehyun following too with some slippers he had already in your house.

“im back!” you yelled making your way through the house. “don’t be so loud.” taehyun hissed from behind you

“no ones home anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “that’s a shame i really like ms.(l/n).”

you turn around and glare at him while he he has a grin on his face. “fine..” you turn around and walk to your bedroom.

“im playing (y/n).” he ran over to you and you both walked into your room, him closing the door behind him. “sure whatever taehyun.”

he dropped his backpack to the ground and made his way to your bed that could almost fit both of you. “ever thought of upgrading into a new bed?” he said jumping in his seat.

“i told you i was getting a new bed next month already.” you said sitting down next to him.

“the remote is right there,” you pointed to your bed stand where many decorations and where the remote was.

taehyun got the remote and turned it on quickly going to netflix. you on the other hand got your knee socks out of your feet since they were killing you from always having them on.

“let’s get comfortable.” he said while making some space so you could lay down next to him. you crawled you way down next to him before laying.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks while roaming around different shows. “i don’t know.. let’s watch something funny.”

he scrolled around for a bit before deciding to watch another episode of the office.

the first three episodes the two of you wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling about how funny it was but soon you got really bored with the show.

you yawn resting on his shoulder. “is it me or is it getting boring?” you said almost in a sleepyish voice.

“noooo! we were getting to the best part!” he whined looking back at you with big puppy eyes pleading you to not fall asleep.

“i don’t care i’m gonna go to sleep.” you shut your eyes waiting for some sleepiness to hit. “cmon!” he groaned shaking your shoulder.

“stop! im trying to sleep.” you mumbled. “then dont!” you didn’t listen and continued to want to sleep.

“if i kiss you will you not sleep?” he whispered in your ear, knowing it would send you chills. your eyes opening back up to see a smirking taehyun in front of you.

“maybe..” you said trying to hide a smile forming on your lips. “uh huh.” you lifted your face from his shoulder, closed your eyes waiting for his lips to connect to yours.

“wait!” you opened your eyes and saw him getting up from the bed making you follow. “what? why’re you standing?” you asked.

“i want to try something.” he said, pulling on your arm and making you get against the wall. your cheeks immediately going red and heart racing.

“are you planning on having sex with-“ “no!” he assured you. “i just want to try yknow making out you while standing.” you hummed, “what made you want to try this?” his ears went red.

“yeonjun hyung told me girls like it when they’re against a wall.” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “i don’t think he meant making out babe.” you giggled.

“oh.. then never mind.” he was about to walk to the bed when you pulled on his arm making him come closer to you.

“now you left me curious! let’s try it!” you whined. “okay.”

you closed your eyes once again and waited for him lips to connect to yours. and once they did he pushed you further into the wall. one of his hands went to your cheek while the other wrapped with one of your hands.

even if you couldn’t see you knew he was enjoying this. a sigh escape from your lips when one of his legs were in between your legs.

his lips going down to your jaw giving you light kisses till it made its way down your neck to your collarbone.

you moaned out once he started to suck on your collarbone. “it feels so..” you whined. “good?” you nodded frantically. moving your hips a bit on his knee causing friction to to your thighs.

“yes! oh my god..” you melted under him. his lips disconnected from your collar and looked back at you. your face was flushed and it looked like he actually took your breath away.

“let’s stop..” he said moving back to the bed where he was previously laying. “what?” you looked at him confused. “just like that?”

his face went blank as he stared back at your tv. “you won’t fall asleep now right?”

he smirked not even looking back at you.

“b-but you just left me a hickey- i thought you wanted to-“ you came back to your senses and groaned knowing he only did it so you want fall asleep in his favorite part of the show.

“oh okay..” you walked over to your bed and instead of laying next to him you got on top of him.

he froze and shot up, his back hitting the bed frame. “what are you doing?” you shrugged and had a small smile on your lips.

“just shh and enjoy.” he rolled his eyes before relaxing and closing his eyes knowing you’ll probably just want to kiss him again.

you pushed your lips towards him locking lips. his lips tasted like cherry chapstick, there was no way you couldn’t have want more.

you licked his lips before gently biting down on it. a gasp fell from him making you push your tongue inside of his mouth, exploring every bit of his mouth.

pushing your tounge away from his mouth a smirk fell to your face. “you enjoyed that right?” you teased seeing his eyes close and mouth open taking heavy breaths.

but before he could respond you latched your lips to his neck, giving him light kisses sending him chills.

“mmh.” you heard him moan. your lips trailing down to his collarbones where you immediately started to suck on.

your fingers twiddling with the buttons of his uniform plaid shirt having more access to his chest.

“don’t leave too much..” he mumbled. you hummed back continuing to mark him. his hands trailed down to your waist so he could hold onto you better.

your mouth did a popping sound once you were done with one. a big purple bruise on his collar.

moving onto his neck you tried to find his sweet spot and once you found it the grip on your waist tightened.

“fuck don’t stop that.” he groaned making you suck harder on his neck, making sure this specific hickey never faded for a while.

whimpers and gaps fell from his pink lips like if breathing was getting harder from him.

seeing yellow lights pull up to your driveway you knew your parents were home. detaching your lips from his neck you attached them back to his lips.

kissing him with passion as both of your lips moved together. his hands rand up and down your waist as you messingly played with his hair.

hearing footsteps come closer to your door you detached your lips and jumped to the other side like if you were just laying down.

“(y/n) come he- oh taehyun, you’re here?” your mom said after opening the door. “hello ms.(l/n).” taehyun said waving his hand.

your mom looked at the screen then back at you two. “i’ll leave you two alone.” with that the door closed.

almost like you were holding in your breath you sighed. looking at the screen you saw the netflix thing that would always appear.

‘are you still watching?’

looking at taehyun he was already staring at the screen. “do you think she thinks we were doing something else?”

he nodded his head. “most likely.” you groaned and rested your head on his shoulder.

“im going to get the talk for sure when you leave tonight.”

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[cdmagic1408]

Onward Fan Art Shout Out - 11!!!

Theme: Barley Lightfoot, Rock Star 🎸🎶

We’re "UP TO 11" as the trope says!

I’d best describe it in one word, and that’s chaos

and who better at being chaos than our very own Barley? Or rather Barley just being Barley? Or better yet...Barley rockin' out?!

Barley is, without a doubt, a rock star! from being an amazing and protective older brother/father figure to his baby bro, Ian to putting himself out there and not being afraid to be him! so here's a fanart collection of Barley showing off his awesome and lovable Barley energy! 🤘

and yes, I had planned to share this post last week, but as I said earlier I wanted to find more art for this particular theme, which luckily I was able to do! it's just too good!! so here's what I originally had in mind for last Friday—right here, right now 😉

Artists

jamie_phut - "on the guitar, Barley Lightfoot!" a taste of young Barley to kick things off! this redraw of him from the deleted scene is very well done! so cute and colorful! I love it!

starlight_crafter - this was drawn all the way back in 2019 right after the teaser trailer came out! I really like the style of this pencil drawing and even though we weren't sure what to expect of Barley yet at the time, this artist captures him and his vibe brilliantly!

cheesembs - I love the simple use of colors here and Barley's expression!! he really looks like he's into what he's playing here! this whole picture just makes me smile

cgbkart - ahhhh air guitar!!! this piece has such fun energy! and perfectly encapsulates one of Barley's many rules of questing: use what you've got. if there ain't no guitar or radio to make music, do it yourself!

umutciplak - I love how endearingly goofy Barley's smile is in this drawing! while also giving off the metal horns on both hands! to me it says: "it's all good, bro!" also his many pins are incorporated very nicely too!

van_thuart - I would hope that this would be the thumbnail for a potential hours long onward lo-fi music video because I'm getting those vibes with this drawing and its peaceful purple background specifically!

coma.troversy / @comatroversy - YEAH!!! that's just what I hear Barley yelling out when I see this piece. Cheering for his brother, listening and dancing to a banger track, accomplishing a heroic deed, you name it! there's so much personality here!

magnetoburrito / @magneto-burrito - ngl I really love seeing Barley in a sweatshirt! and yes I agree, he probably would listen to the band, Rush! I love how happy and chill he is in all of these drawings!

rustedbelt - I never really thought about Barley playing music on an acoustic guitar before but this is a very cool idea! he looks so at peace and relaxed strumming it here in this piece, it's very soothing!

sanyaarter - I love the all the blush details here! not just on the face and the ears but on the fingers too as he's giving the peace sign! also I'm just a huge fan of peace signs anyway ✌️ ☮️

[sciderman]

Was going through some old writing files (of which there are hundreds!!) and stumbled across a high school AU I was writing a while ago! (an actual one! not a tantalising dream-sequence involving cheerleaders, though we all know I love those...) 

I don’t know if I’ll resurrect it, but there’s a bit of fun to be had - Peter’s anger issues are something that I’d like to see explored more in spideypool fic, and I just... I love high school AUs okay... 

Read some of it under the cut! 

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

“What’re you in for?”

“Something stupid.” Peter grumbled.

“Love it.” The boy said, grinning. Peter noticed a missing tooth. “I hid a frog in the student counsellor’s desk. You should’ve seen him scream.” 

Peter was quiet, but his lips quirked. 

“Immature”, he eventually said. 

“The guy’s a dickhole. And,” the blond rocked on his chair, buzzing, “technically, I saved a life.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow. 

“Saved the frog from one of the labs. They were gonna slice him open. Imagine you’re just sitting on your lily pad one day. Chilling. And then some jackass scientist scoops you up and cuts you open. Starts prodding inside you. Gross.” 

“Okay, yeah, gross.” 

“My name is Wade, bee-tee-dubs.” 

Wade. Peter remembered. He’d only joined the class at the beginning of last semester, and sat near the back of the class. He hadn’t recognised him by his face because he’d always had his hood up. Not that Peter had ever paid enough attention to his peers to remember them by face anyway.

“Uh.” Peter said, eyeing the hand he was being offered as a greeting. He didn’t return the handshake, but he responded with a simple “I’m Peter.” 

“Cool.” Wade nodded, looking at his feet, heels bouncing off the linoleum floor. His shoes were scuffed and worn. 

A moment of silence passed. Both boys turned their attention to the floor, as though it were suddenly the most interesting feature of the room. 

Peter side eyed his company, in the moment of quiet. There were shallow craters on the boy’s face, Peter noticed, like chickenpox scars that hadn’t fully healed. Wade definitely seemed conscious about it, with his hood being nearly always drawn, and his shaggy hair that often covered his face. 

“Peter Parker.” The principal called, peering through the door at the boys. The principal glared at Wade, who put up his hands in response. Clearly Wade was a regular. 

A wave of smugness came over Peter, who leant in close to Wade. 

“I broke Flash Thompson’s arm.” Peter whispered, before standing up to enter the principal’s office. For a second Peter saw Wade’s face light up, like that was the coolest thing he had ever heard. 

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

“Mr Parker, I recognise you’re going through a tough time – And I’m sorry.”

Peter sank in his chair, eyes fixed on a hole puncher sat on the desk.

“I understand you must be going through a lot of emotions at the moment, but you,” the principal wrung his hands, “you hospitalised one of your classmates. Eugene Thompson –” 

The principal’s voice faded in and out of Peter’s attention. As usual, he stood alone on Planet Peter Parker. 

He thought about Aunt May. Her eyes, pink and puffy. Thin hands trembling as she held them by her mouth, recounting all she remembered about that night to the police. The police, who with empty looks, mechanically took down notes. Jaded. Like a family hadn’t been just destroyed. Like a good man hadn’t just been murdered in cold blood. 

Peter's uncle was a humble man. Simple, but good. He wasn't ambitious, or gifted, or clever. But he was wise. 

Clever. Wise. Peter hadn't understood there was a difference between the two. 

He took him for granted, Peter admitted to himself, as he cried that night, and the days following. He cried for the first time in months. Months of distancing himself from the world, before the world decided to stage a head-on-head collision with him. 

“Peter? Peter, are you listening?” 

Peter at last looked up, and with the movement, a tear managed to escape his eye. He brought the heel of his palm up quickly to wipe it away. 

“Look, son, I want you to see the student counsellor tomorrow.” The principal said, taking down a note. Peter scowled at the pen, as it scribbled. “It will help, Peter. I want you to see the counsellor every Tuesday and Friday, last period. We’ll keep track of your healing process.” 

Peter took the note when it was offered to him, and pocketed it without a word. He turned to leave.

“Peter. I didn’t dismiss you.” 

Peter sighed, turning back, red-eyed and tired. 

“I’m sorry about your uncle. But when Eugene returns, you will apologise.” 

Peter swallowed, voice quiet when at last he spoke. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” 

Whether that was true or not, Peter was still undecided on. 

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

The school day dragged at an excruciatingly slow pace. Peter couldn’t hear the teacher. All he could hear, all day, were the whispers amongst his peers. Right now, Peter wished the walls he built to keep the world out were soundproofed. 

“Did you hear? He put Flash in the ER.” 

“Puny Parker? No way.” 

“He’s an absolute freak.” 

“He’s probably really screwed up right now, guys. I think his like, Uncle died or something.” 

Peter snapped his pencil. 

“Can I be excused, miss?” 

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

Peter ran as fast as he could out of the school doors, gasping in air as deeply as he could. He was at his breaking point. If everyone in class saw him crying, he’d really never hear the end of it. He’d be seeing the school councillor until he graduated. 

The air was cool but his face was scalding hot, tears streaming down his cheeks. He buried his face in both hands and screamed. With all the effort he could afford he tried to steady his breathing. In and out, in and out, until he started to feel lightheaded. 

He could’ve broken the school doors off its hinges. He could have slammed his fists so hard on the walls, until they crumbled, or he did. 

He threw a kick so hard on a nearby trash can that it flew across the courtyard.  

He hated this school. He could’ve tore it down right where he stood. 

“Dude.” 

Peter turned so fast his head nearly knocked off his shoulders. Wade stood, back against the wall, casual as anything. He had a cigarette in hand. 

“You’re an animal, dude.” Wade said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

Peter’s mouth hung open, finding it difficult to find words. He brought up a sleeve to wipe up his face. 

“I, just. I –” 

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I hate this place.” 

Wade nodded, a calm demeanour about him that almost served to calm Peter by osmosis. 

Peter Parker was always a very rational boy. Quiet. Reserved. He never lost it like this. He’s never –

“I heard – about your uncle.” 

Peter’s eyes were exhausted from crying, he couldn’t afford anymore tears. Peter’s entire body felt it was going to sink through the earth. And Wade could see it. Wade could see it on Peter’s face. He looked to Wade for mercy. To let him fall off the planet’s surface. 

“Listen, if it were me I’d – I’d kill him. I’d kill whoever did it.” 

Peter was quiet. Wade’s words felt like an electric jolt, sobering him up. 

All the hollow words of consolation had left him numb, but this rang through Peter’s ears. 

Eventually Peter found his voice again. 

“You’d kill him, but you’d save a frog?” 

“Yeah.” Wade said, as if it were obvious. “The frog didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Silence followed. Peter couldn’t look up from the ground. His hands formed fists at his sides. 

All the way home, Wade’s words replayed in Peter’s head. I’d kill him. I’d kill whoever did it. 

The police were apathetic. Crimes go unsolved. And that made Peter’s blood boil hotter than it ever had. The thought that someone – out there – would be getting away with it. 

That Aunt May might always carry that hollow, broken look in her eyes.  

Later that night, Peter threw on a red hoodie, pulling the drawstrings tight. He snuck out his bedroom window, like he did every night. 

News reports tell of an escaped robber cornered in a building downtown.

[bitchassbucky]

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry stumbles across your livestream.

a/n: alright lovelies! here is my submission for bificathon hosted by my two lovely friends @bopbopstyles & @harrysclementines !! my prompt is ‘harry accidentally stumbles upon a livestream of her and her friend’ and let me tell you, I SNATCHED THIS SO QUICK! its my first time writing gxg smut, so pls be nice :’). also september is bi awareness month, so happy bi month babies! you’re so all beautiful and valid <3

enjoy 4k words of bi/camgirl!yn x roommate/best friend!harry filled with girl x girl smut/filth

come into my inbox and send feedback and let’s talk about this!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Harry’s usual Thursday night when he found himself lying in his bed with his laptop on his lap and a plate of his dinner in his hands. 

He was binge watching interior home designers on Netflix, letting out an ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ as they revealed the finished homes, practically envisioning his future home the same way. 

Thursday nights were practically the start of his weekend as he didn’t have classes on Fridays, and usually his friends and him would hang out, but he really just didn’t feel like going out nor did he have the social capacity to hang out and get drunk when he’s probably going to do that on Friday and Saturday. 

He simply just wanted a break, and that included staying inside and watching interior designers flip a house completely different, and eating his dinner. And he wasn’t ashamed that he enjoyed it. 

After a few episodes and an empty plate, Harry paused the next episode before it even started to put his plate away and grab a glass of water. As he was washing his plate, he heard the door open and close, followed by hushed giggles and whispers. 

“Shh. Harry might be asleep,” a voice said, but he knew it was you. You knew that he liked to sometimes sleep early, but he thought it was too early to be asleep, seeing as it was only eight p.m. 

“I’m actually in here,” he chuckled, making himself present with his voice. 

“Oh!” You said surprisingly, and another laugh was heard. 

You made your way to the kitchen, your guest following behind you as you saw Harry in just a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. 

“Hey, H,” you greeted. 

“Hi, love. Have fun tonight?” He asked. You had went to the bar to chill out from the many essays you had to write and exams you had to take, and Thursday nights were also a start to your weekend as well, so fuck it. 

“Yeah, I did, thanks for asking. This is Daniela, by the way,” you introduced the girl you had met at the bar. 

You had seen Daniela right when you walked in as her and her friends were sitting at the table right next to the entrance, and she immediately caught your eye. She looked right back at you, giving you some flirty eyes herself as you were dragged away by your friends and straight to the bar. 

After a few drinks and rounds of dancing with your best girlfriends, you saw Daniela walk over to the bar and order some drinks, so you decided that it was your chance to go up to her. 

You two had immediately hit it off, getting to know one another. She told you that she was a lesbian, and you proudly told her that you were bisexual. You also found out that you’re both in the same bio-chem class together, which definitely raised the excitement as she suggested studying together and you happily said yes. Then there was dancing while you two were both buzzed, completely forgetting your friends as you grinded against each other and kissed, not caring that you were practically putting on a show for everyone around you. 

And when you suggested that you took her home, she immediately said yes, and you dragged her outside as you waited for the Uber you called. 

“Nice to meet you, Daniela. I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand. “Her roommate and friend-”

“Best friend. C’mon, Harry, don’t put yourself lower than that,” you corrected and he smiled. 

“Alright, alright. My bad,” he laughed. 

“So, we’re gonna go to my room,” you winked him as Harry said ‘have fun’ before cleaning up a bit in the kitchen. 

He was glad that one of you was getting laid. He also noticed how happy you were, which he absolutely adored, and he thinks it has to do with the fact that you came out a year ago, and you’re now living your life to the fullest and happiest, and that’s all he wants; is for you to be happy with yourself and in general.

Harry met you at the end of freshman year of college as your friend groups met up with each other at a bar. He was a bit more shy than the rest of his friends, and didn’t immediately mingle with everyone until a few drinks in. But as you introduced yourself to his friends, you noticed him sitting down at the bar, not interacting with anyone. You were also somewhat on the quiet side, but was able to handle introducing yourself, so you completely understood why Harry acted the way he did when you two met. 

“Hey, not feeling it tonight?” You asked, taking a seat next to him. 

“Eh, not one for going up to people and initiating a conversation,” he said nervously. 

“I get that. Makes me nervous to go up to someone and talk to them, but I’m trying to get over that, so here’s me trying,” you chuckled as did he. 

“Well, we gotta drink to that then,” he said, and it took him by surprise that he was able to make a joke and laugh. 

It could have definitely been the liquid courage, but he was starting to warm up to you; joking around and becoming less tense as you two talked and drank. But that was because you were making him comfortable, to which he appreciated very much. 

Since then, you two have been by each other’s side. He told you that your friends kind of intimidated him because they were very out there, and that made you laugh slightly because it was very true, but you made sure to be by his side whenever your groups hung out. 

The group hangouts turned into one-on-one hangouts with just you and Harry. He was definitely more comfortable with you, and he really enjoyed your company and presence. 

Both of your friends had expected you two to end up together, but you two realized that you were better off as friends—who knows if you two will end up together, but for now, you were happy being best friends with him as was he. 

It was a year, the end of sophomore year, when you wanted to move out of the dorms. It wasn’t like you didn’t like your friends and roommates, but sometimes you wanted your own space and that didn’t help when there’s two other people in the same room as you. 

So Harry suggested that you both find a flat together since he was on the lookout for a flat anyways, and it’ll help him a ton with bills and whatnot. You excitedly said yes after you asked him if he was sure that he wanted to move in with you, and if he was extra sure that he wanted to since you’d be there when he would take home people. He laughed, and said that he didn’t care and wanted to live with you, saying it’ll be fun. You both had gotten quite close throughout that year and practically told each other everything, so it’ll be even better to live with someone you both trust. 

Junior year of uni, he noticed that you always came home with a sad frown on your face, briefly saying hi to him before going straight to your room and locking yourself up for hours. Harry tried figuring out why you were in such a mood all the time, and tracked his steps, seeing if he said anything wrong that made you upset. But he couldn’t figure it out as you both always had light and fun conversations during breakfast and dinner. 

And the frown went on for months until you both came back from Christmas break, and you told him that you had to tell him something very important. 

“Love, you can tell me anything, you know that right?” He said, reassuring you. 

“Yeah. It’s just…I’m nervous to,” you said, shaking your leg. Harry really wondered what happened during break that made you so anxious. He was worried that you wanted to move out and not live with him anymore, but he had to remind himself that it was probably not even about him as he told you to take your time. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” he said, and you nodded, giving him a smile before you walked off to your room to gather your thoughts. 

An hour later, you came out of your room and found Harry sitting on the couch, watching a film. You sat next to him, and he immediately turned off the TV, giving you his full attention.

You took a deep breath and started, “What I was trying to say earlier was that something about me has changed, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I was still figuring it out, but I was just scared of what you would think,” you said. Harry started to get concerned, but he let you finish talking before he said anything. “So, I’ve always had an attraction towards girls, and I thought it was just me thinking a girl was pretty, but when I started to get nervous and flustered when a girl would talk to me, I realized that I really like them, and I would find myself flirting with them and longing to have something romantic with them. And then when I went back home for break, I met up with a childhood friend, and somehow…we kissed. It was so magical that it made my stomach flutter.” 

Harry had smiled softly as you told your story; knowing where this conversation was going, but of course, he stayed silent and let you talk. 

“So what I’m trying to tell you is that… I’m bi,” you had said nervously, hands shaking in your lap. You were trying to contain your tears from falling from your face as you shook your leg. 

“Love, I’m so happy for you,” he replied, opening his arms to comfort you from the anxiety you were feeling from telling him. You had softly sobbed into his shoulder, feeling the weight on your shoulders disappear as you had finally told the person you were closest to and who you trust the most. 

“R-Really?” You said as you pulled away from his hold. 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m happy that you can be whoever you want to be and I’m here to support you,” he said, holding your arms and running his hands over your skin. 

“Thank you, Harry,” you smiled at him, feeling ultimately grateful for your best friend and his acceptance. 

Harry smiled at the memory as he heard giggles through your door, and he chuckled as he finished cleaning before heading to his room. He was feeling a bit tired and despite it being a bit earlier than his usual bedtime, he decided to call it a night a try to get some sleep, deciding that he could go on a run in the morning since he was sleeping early. 

But after an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up trying to get a restful sleep, and opened his laptop to put on some Netflix, hoping it would lull him into a deep slumber. He was comfortably watching a random show until his hand grazed his crotch, and he realized he hadn’t relieved himself nor had he had sex in a while. 

So, he pushed his boxers down his legs, kicked them off the bed, and took off his shirt before he grabbed some lube and pumped his cock as it immedately hardened in his hand. He began touching himself in the darkness of his room as he quietly groaned out and threw his head back on his pillow. 

Realizing he doesn’t have some kind of visual, he stops to search up cam girl sites on the internet so he can get a mental image in his head to get him off. He finally settled on one user that was doing a live stream called ‘KISSYPLS’ as the preview was a girl going down on another with a purple ambiance to the room. The room was dark, but not dark enough where he couldn’t see the two girls. 

The sound of the moans from his laptop were quite loud and he didn’t want you to hear it all the way from your room, so he grabbed some headphones from his bedside table, plugging in his earbuds into his ears as the sounds of the girls moaned and talked dirty to each other. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” the girl that was doing the eating out said before she crawled her way up to the other’s body. 

And the slightest moment as Harry was watching, the girl on her back had shifted down a bit as they kissed, and Harry’s eyes flew wide open once he glanced. He saw the face that he wouldn’t have expected he would see. 

His roommate. His best friend. It was you. 

You were being eaten out on his computer screen by Daniela, and he was in complete shock. He honestly hadn’t expected to find you because it was just a random scroll through the site, but holy fuck. 

You hadn’t had your account for very long—maybe about three months. But you thought it was a good way to make some extra money because the bills were stacking up and they had to be paid off somehow. And you loved the idea of getting off in front of a camera for random strangers who pay to see that shit. 

And of course, Harry didn’t know you were a cam girl at all. He hadn’t seen that coming when he was looking for something to get off to. But he wasn’t complaining. He just didn’t expect you to be the one on the other side of the screen. But there you were, showing your body and having sex with someone on camera for the (as shown) 27 people watching who are also horny as fuck. 

You as a person are already beautiful, he knew that, but your body was something else. The way your tits were shown so clearly on his screen with your tattoo that was inked right next to your left tit; as the purple light hit your skin. He wanted to take them in his mouth and devour them. 

You were sprawled out onto the bed, naked as Daniela was kissing you, and he couldn’t stop looking at you as your face looked while kissing someone. He was in complete shock that he stopped stroking himself, his dick in his hands as he watched you two make out. But once his cock twitched from the sight of your ass sticking up, getting a view of your glistening pussy and ass, he continued. 

You flipped Daniela onto her back, making her squeal in surprise before you started kissing down her body, leaving small and sweet kisses to her soft skin. You took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on it lightly as she moaned. Once you were lying on your stomach between her legs, you gave her inner thighs a kiss before licking one long strike up her pussy. You generally loved the way girls taste rather than guys, so your mouth salivates more when you’re with women, eating them out and tasting them, and pleasuring them to their orgasm.

You tongue focused on her clit, licking her sensitive bud relentlessly as your arms were looped under her thighs, and your hand reached up to grab one of her breasts, taking her nipple in between your finger and lightly pulling it. 

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. Her voice was much more high pitched than normal, but you think it’s hot as fuck. “Like that.” 

That encouraged you to continue sucking on her clit, and you brought your free hand to plunge two fingers into her wet pussy, curling up to meet the soft spot inside of her. Daniela’s back arched off the bed as her hair was spread out onto the pillow as she grabbed a fistful of your sheets into her hands. You pulled your mouth away from her to place your hand on her clit, rubbing it fast as you continue to finger fuck her. Daniela was an absolute mess above you, chanting that she was going to come as a way to manifest her orgasm. 

“C’mon, beautiful. Cum for me,” you encouraged her, the sound of your voice had made Daniela and Harry moan out with how sultry and seductive you sounded. Daniela’s peak washed over her as her hips bucked up, but you placed your arm on top of her thigh to stop her from moving as you calmed her down from her high. You licked her up once more, collecting her juices on your tongue before climbing up her body to connect your lips with her. Daniela could taste herself on you, and it turned her on even more despite just having an orgasm. 

Harry watched as you two kissed for a while. She wrapped her arms around your back, pressing her body against yours as you two made out, swirling your tongues together. Harry fondled his balls, intensifying the feeling before going back to stroke his cock. He gripped on his long hair with his other hand, so it felt like someone was in the room pulling his hair for him, and he closed his eyes. With the feeling of his orgasm coming, he was about ready to pump faster so he could get to his peak, but he heard your voice again. 

“I’m not done with you yet. Wanna cum again?” You asked her, and she nodded eagerly. “Want you to cum when I say so,” you told Daniela, and she nodded. Harry slowed his movements down as if he felt like you were personally talking to him, even though a lot of people on her live stream felt the way he did once she said those words. 

You fixed the laptop, pushing it back a little but still pointing it down to your bodies rather than your face. Giving Daniela a kiss, you situate yourself, putting one leg over her and the other under. You reach between you two, inserting your finger in her wet hole and bringing that wetness to her clit, and she does the same to you. 

Slowly moving closer to one another, you touch clits, rubbing it against each other as you two moaned out. The sounds coming from both of your mouths were loud enough that Harry had heard them from his room, and it genuinely felt like he was in the same room as he was also watching it on his screen. 

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he groaned to himself. 

“You wanna cum?” You said, rubbing yourself on her and she whimpered out a ‘mhm,’ and you proceeded to grind faster. 

“Yeah, please let me,” Harry moaned. 

The feeling of both your wetness rubbing together was sending you over the edge as you felt like you were going to explode. Your moans had gotten louder, and you really hoped Harry was wearing some sort of headphones with loud music because you felt bad that you were being this loud, but you couldn’t help it. 

But little did you know that Harry was listening to everything. 

You felt like Daniela had waited long enough to release, so you grabbed her face gently, giving her a kiss. “Go ahead. Cum for me,” you said breathlessly as you were going to let go after she was done. 

Once Harry heard those words, he sighed in relief, letting out a loud groan as his orgasm was released onto his stomach. His abs clenched and his hips bucked into his hand. He grabbed a pillow and bit on it, concealing his moans as he came down from his high. With his chest heaving up and down, he looked over at his laptop to see you breathing deeply and he knew that you had just orgasmed as well. 

Your orgasms had hit both of you hard as you were left sprawled out on the bed, laying on opposite sides as your legs were still entangled with one another. Daniela sat up, pulling your body towards her, and she kissed you deeply, still feeling entirely breathless. 

“God, you’re amazing,” she said against your lips, and you smiled into the kiss. The live stream was still going on, so Harry continued watching you two interact with one another post orgasm. “Kinda wanna use that dildo of yours on you,” she smirked, and you chuckled, nodding your head eagerly. 

“Like a threesome, but with a dildo,” you joked, and she laughed. 

“Maybe we should have one?” 

“What? A threesome?” You asked, pulling back, and she nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders. 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“With who?” 

Just on cue, a knock was heard on your door quite loud, making you and Daniela turn your heads towards the door. Before you even had the chance to even get up, the door opened, revealing Harry in just his boxers. You couldn’t help but look down at his crotch area and see his cock hard. 

“Done with the show ladies?” He asked, smirking. The two of you were still completely naked, but neither of you cared to make an effort to cover yourselves. 

“W-What?” You stuttered and looked at Daniela as she had no clue what was going on either. 

“Watched your live stream,” he finally said, and your eyes widened. 

“How did you find it?” You asked, moving towards the edge of the bed, and Daniela stayed behind near the headboard. 

“By coincidence, I swear,” he said, walking towards you. “Was just scrolling and I was horny as fuck, and I stumbled upon it.” 

“D-Did you like it?” A nervous tone came with your words, and it was strange because you’ve never been nervous with Harry, except the time you came out to him. A huge part of you wanted him to say he liked it and that he enjoyed the show, and you really hoped he did. 

He stood in between your legs and looked down at you as you looked up. The sight below him was just something that irked him; you looking up at him with wide eyes, acting innocent and him looking down at you with a raging hard on, begging to be touched by you and your mouth. He placed his hands on both sides of your face, caressing your warm cheek as he studied you for a moment. The smear of mascara that laid under your eyes and your flushed cheeks made his cock twitch. 

Just from watching your live stream, he noticed that you were quite dominant in bed with girls. But with how you’re looking at him, wanting validation and reassurance from him, you’re submissive with men (or just him in general).

His stare was intimidating, and the dark purple light illuminating your room didn’t help. He’s never seen you naked and bare, so that added to the stress of if he likes what he sees. But you were surprised that you didn’t want to cover up in front of him. Throughout the years of being best friends and roommates, you two have never fucked. Although you have kissed multiple times, it was purely platonic and sometimes you just needed a kiss every once in a while. And as your best friend, Harry was happy to help. 

“Of course I fucking loved it. Wanna know my favorite part?” You smiled softly, nodding slowly as you looked at him with big and innocent eyes. He bent down, matching your eye level before he whispered, “Well, first of all you, of course. Looked so damn beautiful, I swear.” You blushed, and he continued. “But the part when Daniela suggested a threesome just a minute ago. If you and her are up with me being a plus one, then I am. Your wish is my command,” he said softly, kissing your nose.

Daniela gasped behind you, a big smile on her face as she crawled to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder before she spoke. 

“Well, looks like we’re gonna have a lot of fucking fun.” 

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #7

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 7.2k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: a bit of talking down on yourself, the confusion continues, general fluff with a touch of angst 

a/n: this is the final date. guys...how is this going by so fast?? please let me know your thoughts on the date, on everything else overall...and I’ll see you soon? Next Saturday is the finale!

Date #7

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

Note from the creator of this stupid idea:

I loved her first.

 “Who do you think it was? Any ideas?”

           “I…” you shrug. “No?”

           Gina arches a brow, staring you down from across your kitchen table. “So, that was a lie.”

           You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, Gina also chuckling. It’s a relief, the fact that she doesn’t hesitate to call you out. You’re grateful that you finagled her number from Jin, shooting him a text that looked a lot like this:

Me: Burn this after reading

Me: We can’t have any evidence !!

Kim Seokjinnie: ok, hi. I’m not burning my phone weirdo. I’ll just keep it away from Jungkook. What’s up??

Me: Hi. You know what I meant.

Me: Can you give me Gina’s number?

Kim Seokjinnie: Sure, I’ll send you the contact in a second. You two gonna hang out or something?

Me: Hopefully…do you think it’s weird if I just ask her out of the blue? Will she not wanna come?

Kim Seokjinnie: Nah, she’s pretty chill. I bet she’ll come

Kim Seokjinnie: *Kim Seokjinnie shared a contact with you*

Kim Seokjinnie: do you need anything before I burn my phone?

Me: no, thank you!! I owe you one. I’m short on friends rn, hopefully she’ll come over

Kim Seokjinnie: I’m sorry  miss you. We’ll all get to hang out once this is all over, I promise.

“Yah! I really don’t know. I mean they’ve all be so…”

“So what?”

You sigh, sounding like some kid in a dreamy teen movie. “Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” Gina huffs, leaning back in her chair. It’s a bit rickety, you’d found it at a yard sale with Namjoon and Jimin. You had just moved into your apartment, and realized that you were a little low on furniture. Together, you’d managed to find three mismatching chairs that made you grin each time you saw them.

It was a little odd at the time, you didn’t want to buy three chairs. Two seemed like plenty. They convinced you though, and looking back you understand why they were so adamant.

Wasn’t it rule #3? “Limit one-on-one interaction”? Three chairs made it so that there was always space for at least two of them.

Suddenly you look at the most average things in your house with different eyes.

Groaning, you rub your hands over your face. You’ve probably smudged your makeup, but you don’t care. It’s Friday night, you can do whatever you want.

“Unfortunately, I really think that there might be.” You let out a dry chuckle. “Seven dates with the world’s most perfect men. I knew I was screwed from the beginning, but this, I mean, I didn’t expect it to go this far.”

“On the bright side, you only have one more to go.” Gina gets up, stretching before moving to put her plate in the sink. She’d picked up some takeout on her way to your house, proving to you that you two are going to be friends for a long, long time.

“I’m terrified because of that. What happens after tomorrow’s date? I know it’s up to me, but I feel like I’m waiting for someone to come tell me the next step.”

Gina hums in agreement, shooting you an apologetic look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out how flirty they were at the haunted house. You never would have gotten into this mess.”

“No,” you wave her off. “It’s not your fault. Jungkook let it slip anyway, after the door closed on us in the basement. Ugh, I still get freaked out thinking about that. Has that happened since?”

Gina pauses over the sink, back turned to you as she runs her plate under the hot water. After a moment she shuts it off, turning around to wipe her hands off on a dish towel before leaning up against the counter.

“Erm…”

Your stomach drops. “What.”

“It’s just…” she crosses her arms and uncrosses them, unsure of what to do with her hands. “The door is connected to a little button on every employee’s key fob. You know, just for some extra scare factor.”

You meet her sheepish gaze with a blank stare. “So you’re telling me…”

“It’s just a part of the tour,” Gina shrugs. “Wait, what happened? He told you about the pact when the door closed? That’s…that’s honestly not the most romantic setting-”

“No no, we had a little moment after the door closed, and we almost kissed. But he stopped himself and said the I didn’t have to worry about him making a move. When we got out, I asked him why, and that’s when he mentioned the pact.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So tomorrow is the last date, correct?”

           “Yup.”

           “Look,” Gina notices your worried expression. “Do yourself a favor. Let go. Don’t waste tomorrow thinking about what’s gonna happen next. Focus on the moment, ok? Then how about we get together next week sometime to talk everything over? If you feel like that might help, that is.”

           You definitely made the right choice in inviting Gina over. You can already feel your stress levels going down.

           “Ok.”

           You’re up early the next morning, earlier than you’d like. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on your sofa, basking in the golden morning sun and watching the little dust motes float in the air, but it’s certainly been a while.

           For once, it’s quiet in your mind. You’re not sure why now, why today. There’s no doubt you’ll be your typical bumbling mess once Yoongi picks you up, but for now all is peaceful.

           It’s the last date. Somehow, despite how much you’ve enjoyed these little escapades, you feel relief at the thought. Knowing that you’ve made it nearly to the end without doing anything remarkably stupid (you’re still mortified that you and Jimin got kicked out of that basilica but oh well), and now you’re so close.  

           For now, you slide your worries under the rug, to be left there for the weekend. You curl your legs under you and lean your head back against the cushions to drink in the sunlight. It warms your skin, leaving you feeling even better than before.

           Yoongi is supposed to be here around four. Jungkook had sent you a quick text earlier in the week checking that you didn’t have any plans for Saturday afternoon and night. You didn’t bother to tell him that you always had all day open for them.

           While the exchange had been short, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was blushing just as much as you when his contact popped up on your screen. In an instant you were plunged into the memory of clinging to him just outside your front door, Jungkook’s shaky breaths the only thing keeping you planted in reality.

           Either way, it was safe to say that you were a blushing mess despite the simplicity of the text. He kept it strictly professional, not once alluding to the events of last Saturday. But you could still hear those words he uttered when he asked if you ever thought about what might have happened if he’d kissed you in the haunted house when he had the chance.

           “I do. Every day.”

           Of course you thought about it. You let out an amused huff on the couch, laughing to yourself. Who wouldn’t? But the only thing was the fact that you were thinking about a lot of things. Not just Jungkook.

           Or his lips, for that matter.

           The couch rustles as you get up, deciding to change out of your red sweatshirt for a green one. You’d been instructed to dress warm, which made you wonder what was planned for today. Outside everything looks warm and pleasant, certainly no need for anything too heavy.

           By the time afternoon rolls around, you’re tempted to call up Gina for a late lunch or something. To say you’re antsy is an understatement; you’re positively losing it. The clock on the wall has decided to try its hand at stopping time altogether, and you think it’s doing a pretty good job of it. Every time you glace over, seemingly no time has passed.

           This time, you really start to wonder if no time has passed. You swear it’s been stuck at 3 o’clock for a while-

           The sound of someone knocking on your door has you nearly tipping over from where you perch trying to grab the clock.

           For some stupid reason, you’re frozen to your spot at the far end of your living room. Holding the clock in your hands, you jump a little as a second tentative knock sounds.

           To your utter mortification, your mouth opens and you yell out, “Come in!”

           You’re still frozen in place when the door opens and Yoongi pokes his head in. His eyes immediately land on you, a sheepish smile that he has a hard time containing immediately breaking out.

           “You’re not planning on throwing that at me, right?” He asks, making you glare down at the clock you cling to.

           “Oh.” Your knuckles have turned white, and somehow your heart has decided to try its hand at sprinting a marathon. “No. I- it’s broken. I think.”

           Yoongi shuffles inside, closing the door gently behind him before wandering over to you. His pale complexion makes the pink on his cheeks easy to spot. Somehow the fact that he’s blushing makes you blush.

           “Do you have batteries around here?” He asks quietly, hiding his amusement.

           “Maybe in the kitchen?” You brush past him, handing off the clock. “Would you mind getting the old batteries out?”

           He mumbles out a sure, plopping down on your sofa while he gets to work on the clock. He’s wearing a similar outfit to you, which makes you smile. It’s not very often these days that he sports a bandana and you wonder if he somehow knew that you love the way he looks in it. His hair looks particularly fluffy as it kisses his forehead, the dark bandana giving him an air of coolness you know you could never pull off.

           Rummaging around your kitchen drawers, you pause when you realize what you’re doing. Are you stalling? What’s the rush to fix a clock when you have Min Yoongi in the other room waiting to take you out?

           Closing the drawer, you take a deep breath and shake your head.

           “Sorry Yoongi,” you call out, trudging back into the living room. “I’m an idiot.”

           He looks at you over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s your reasoning?”

           “Ouch.”

           Yoongi chuckles, setting the clock down on the coffee table before getting to his feet. “Wow, is it just me or…”

           You wince. “This got off to a bad start, huh.”

           “Yeah.”

           Looking at each other from across the room, you realize just how much you’ve missed him. His witty sarcastic remarks, his honesty.

           Him.

           “Can we start over? Go knock on the door again.”

           Yoongi’s already on his way, huffing out a laugh as he steps outside. “Alright, see you in a second.” The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re suddenly left with the silence of your house.

           As Yoongi timidly knocks on the door, the same sense of calm you experienced this morning settles over you.

           The seventh date. No more guessing who’s on the other side of the door, no more anxious glances in the mirror to check that everything looks flawless. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the door between you.

           There’s already a smile on your face as you open that door, finding Yoongi standing with his hands in his pocket. He returns your grin, feeling like a fellow conspirator in a heist that has yet to be planned.

           “I’m here,” he announces, then adds with a chuckle, “finally.”

           “Took you long enough,” you tease, reaching out to grab his jacket and pull him inside. He feigns a horrified expression at your flirty nature, but you just roll your eyes. You’re not sure who wraps their arms around the other first, but the next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in a tight embrace.

           I missed you, is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. The lump that’s formed there only grows thicker with emotion as Yoongi’s gravelly voice rumbles against your hair.

           “How’re you holding up?”

           Your arms fall around his waist, ever aware of his shoulder. Even though he says he’s completely healed now, you aren’t taking any chances. It’s quiet for a long moment as you struggle to find an answer.

           “I…fine. I’m fine.” You pull away and arch an eyebrow at him, pleased to see that is cheeks are still rosy despite the serious look in his eye. “How are you holding up?”

           He lets out a breathy laugh, dropping your gaze. “Fine.” Then, when he catches your disbelieving stare, he states as innocently as possible, “What? Aren’t we lying to each other tonight?”

           “You suck.”

           “See!” He exclaims as you step out of his grasp to grab your things. “You always do that when you’ve been caught in a lie!”

           “Ugh, yah! I wasn’t lying,” you turn around to face him, walking backward toward your room. “I’m fine, really.”

           He shrugs. “And so am I.”

           You stifle your laughter as you enter your room, grabbing your things and wondering if you should grab a coat. “Do I really need a coat?” You call down the hall.

           “Yes!”

           Pursing your lips, you snatch the puffy monstrosity from your closet before turning to head out. Double checking that you have everything you need; your eyes can’t help but glance at the item sitting atop your dresser.

           You stick your tongue out at it. A few seconds later it’s tucked safely away in your top drawer and you’re heading out into the hallway. Your stomach does an uneasy flip as you recall the words that are practically burned in the backs of your eyelids now.

           I loved her first.

           Yoongi gets up from off the couch, waiting for you beside the door. His dark eyes survey you as you walk toward him. “Good to go?” He asks quietly. Clutching your coat a little tighter to your chest, you nod.

           The two of you head out, locking up your apartment and settling in the car that Yoongi drove over. Before long, you’re out on the highway, speeding toward your destination.

           Which, you’ve just realized, is still a mystery to you.

           “Sooo…” You begin, smiling lazily at Yoongi. You take a moment to admire his hands that are wrapped around the steering wheel. “Where are we going?”

           A smile tugs at his lips, but he manages to contain it as he adopts a serious expression. He glances over at you. “We’re going to see the sea.”

           “We’re…” you stutter, furrowing your brows. “We’re going to see the sea?”

           A breathy chuckle escapes him. “Yeah. But it’s a long drive, so are you down to listen to a murder-mystery with me?”

           “YES.”

            You’re still pretty sure that it was the nosy maid that did it by the time you arrive at your destination. Two hours, one murder-mystery short audiobook, and several snacks later, the sun is well on its way to the horizon when Yoongi pulls off to a sandy parking lot filled to the brim with cars.

           There’s tons of people mulling about, several of them appear to be young families who smile fondly as their children laugh and play in the sand. There’s a couple of food-trucks that have popped up on the beach, which sport long lines. Yoongi observes them woefully, seeming to come to some sort of understanding with himself before moving to get out of the car.

           “Woah, what’s with all the people? Is this beach always this busy?”

           It’s a beach you’ve never been to before, the pristine sand glowing as the sun makes its way across the sky.

           “Today’s a special occasion,” Yoongi explains, popping the trunk and rummaging around. “We should probably pick out a spot now before all the good ones are taken.”

           You come around to the back of the car to meet him, taking the blanket he extends out to you. Leaving your big coat in the backseat, you hope he doesn’t scold you and tell you to put it on. Right now it’s windy, but fairly warm. No need to look like a living marshmallow just yet.

           Before you can inquire after what the special occasion is, Yoongi passes you a couple of water bottles and begins rattling off instructions.

           “How about I jump in line to buy us some dinner,” the way he says it so casually has your heart skipping a beat for some reason, “and you head down the beach to scout out a decent spot?”

           “But what kind of spot do you mean? Is there a show or something?”

           Yoongi pauses, closing the trunk and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that. A show. Just find a spot that you like, I’ll come find you with our food, ok?”

           “Ay ay, captain.” You trudge away, hoisting the blanket up higher in your arms as you begin to look for an empty space. The immediate surrounding beach area appears to be pretty packed, which has you marching farther and farther away from the parking lot.

           You grin as a couple of children race past you, giggling as they fly their kites. It’s looks like it’s a little boy and with his younger sister, trying their best to keep their kites afloat in wind. Waving at them, your smile only grows as the boy sheepishly turns away and the girl cheerfully waves back.

           It feels like you walk for years before finding a clearing. You were definitely looking for a semi-secluded spot, not too keen on spending your long-awaited date with Yoongi surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone what the big deal is about today before you’re laying the blanket out. Not wanting to leave anything unattended just for it to blow away, you decide to just be patient until Yoongi finds you.

           The sand is warm beneath the blanket as you plop down, resting with your face turned toward the sun as you let out a content sigh. Despite the chill of the wind, the sun warms you right up.

           “Why are you alone?”

           Peeking one eye open at the little voice, you’re delighted to see the same little girl from earlier standing a little ways away. She watches you with a meek expression, her kite forgotten at her feet.

           “Oh, I’m not alone,” you explain. “I’m just waiting for my friend to come find me. He went to go get food.”

           “Oh.” The young girl shuffles her feet. “My mommy says that I need to get all my wiggles out before the show.”

           You chuckle. “Really? What show are we watching tonight? Is it Disney?” That would certainly make sense for all of the young families here tonight. Did Yoongi bring you to a beach-front outdoor movie?

           “No, silly!” The girl giggles at your questions. “The sky’s coming to say hello!”

           “What?”

           “That’s what my mommy said. She said, ‘Young-mi get your wiggles out, the sky is coming to say hello soon!’”

           You blink, a little amused by Young-mi’s earnest response. “I see…I didn’t know that the sky was coming to say hello tonight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “Oh,” you crane your neck toward the parking lot, but it’s too far away to see Yoongi. “My friend brought me, as a surprise.”

           “Wow,” Young-mi utters in a reverent tone. “Can I meet your friend?”

           “I don’t see why not.”

           With a gleeful shout, Young-mi takes off running, her kite skipping along the ground behind her. She runs toward her family, her mother grinning at the sight before reaching out to pull her into her arms. You watch on with a forgotten smile, wondering for a split second what that would be like.

           If you squint, that could be Yoongi sitting beside Young-mi’s mother, throwing his head back with laughter at something his daughter says to him. Their son crouches in the sand nearby, digging around as though searching for gold.

           Laying down with a soft sigh, you close your eyes and let the little daydream take over. Here, at the beach. Telling your children that this is where you had your first date; laughing as they make disgusted faces when Yoongi plants a loud kiss on your cheek-

           “Did the nosy maid get to you?”

           Yoongi stands above you with arms laden with food. He blocks out the sun, the rays coming around to make him appear like an angel. Judging from the delicious smells radiating from the food he carries, you think he actually might be.

           “Ah, so you agree that you think it was her that murdered Duke Rittington?” Your voice sounds a little croaky, a testament to the fact that you were just dozing a moment ago. Leaning up to ease some of the food from his arms, Yoongi snorts.

           “No. It was obviously the son. Why can’t you see it?”

           Rolling your eyes, you pat a spot next to you on the blankets. Yoongi takes the seat without hesitation. “Because, the son seems like too easy of a suspect. Whereas the maid-”

           The screams of Young-mi as she rushes toward you cut you off. “You have a boyfriend?!”

           “Oh, no.”

           Yoongi leans over, still busy arranging the bags of food – is that a cheeseburger you see? – around the blanket. “Who’s that?” He mumbles.

           “I, uh, made a friend while you were grabbing food,” you explain with a small smile.

           Now Young-mi reaches your blanket, dropping to her knees as she gazes up at Yoongi with wide, innocent eyes. “Hi, my name is Young-mi and I’m four years old. I’m the second tallest in my class.” Young-mi prattles off information, her large eyes never once leaving Yoongi’s face. “Are you her boyfriend? I hope you’re her boyfriend.”

           Yoongi lets out a startled laugh. “You do? Why’s that?”

           “You’re so pretty.”

           Now both of you burst out laughing, Young-mi looking utterly confused at your outburst. Yoongi covers his face with his hands, shaking his head.

           “What? What’s so funny?” Young-mi questions.

           You grin at her. “You think he’s pretty?” The little girl nods enthusiastically. “I do too.”

           Yoongi peers over at you at this comment, an unasked question in his eyes. The pink in his cheeks has intensified, as has your own blush.

           “Aren’t I supposed to be the one complementing you?” He asks under his breath. You shrug.

           “You brought food, so now we’re even.”

           Young-mi lingers a little while longer, asking a few questions and drawing in the sand. Munching down on your cheeseburger, you eye Young-mi’s kite.

           “Do you mind if I try to fly your kite for a second?” The question is out of your mouth before you can fully process it, but Young-mi looks up at you excitedly.

           “Yes!!” She squeals, immediately dragging the little handle over to you. “You have to run really fast, that’s what my mommy told me. Then it’ll fly!”

           Glancing back at Yoongi as you clamber to your feet, you don’t miss the fond smile he wears as he watches the interaction take place. You wave at him, heading off down the beach with Young-mi. Once you’ve walked far enough, you wink down at her.

           “Ok, you run on ahead and I’ll catch up in a few seconds.”

           The girl wastes no time running off, her laughter making you feel lighter than you have in weeks. Once she’s far enough off, you take off after her. She heads straight toward her family, who smile at you as you attempt to get the kite off the ground.

           Sand flies up behind you as you race, and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi with his phone out, recording you with a wide smile on his face. The sun has hit the horizon now, a dizzying array of colors sending your mind into a joyful frenzy. Up ahead, Young-mi has successfully made it to her family and is waiting for you to catch up. She jumps up and down as the kite soars above you, the little pinwheels attached to it spinning around in the wind.

           A bit more energy overtakes you, and you sprint the last few yards toward Young-mi, unable to stop the laugh that jumps out of you. You feel so free, here on the beach. It’s almost like you’re up there flying with the kite-

           “Wait!”

           Someone shouts it, you’re not exactly sure who, but by the time the plea registers in your ears, it’s too late. Foot catching in the hole that Young-mi’s brother had been digging earlier, you feel a twist of pain before tumbling to the ground.

           You cry out, barely managing to catch yourself before faceplanting it. The handle from Young-mi’s kite digs painfully into your hand, but that’s the least of your problems at the moment.

           Young-mi’s family rushes over to you, but before they reach you Yoongi is dropping to your side.

           “Oh,” you pant, “hi Yoongs.”

           “Are you alright?” He’s also panting, and you wonder if he had begun running after you before you even fell, foreseeing your path. “Your foot…”

           “I am so sorry!” Young-mi’s mother stoops down on your other side, her husband right behind her. “We completely forgot that Doyun even dug that hole! Can you move? Are you in pain?”

           From where you’re laying belly-down on the sand, you can’t help but feel the burn of embarrassment in your cheeks. “I…move? Yeah, I can – ah never mind.” You wince as you attempt to get to your feet only for the dull ache in your right foot to flare up to a fiery red pain. Yoongi immediately reaches out for you, unsure of what to do. His hands ghost over your leg, but retract when you hiss in pain.

           “Here, my husband-” Young-mi’s mother points over her shoulder to the man in question. “He’s a nurse. Honey, could you…?”

           “Do you mind if I take a look at your ankle?” The man asks in a gentle voice. “Just to make sure nothing’s broken.”

           With a nod, you allow both him and Yoongi to help you swivel around to sit the correct way, the blush you already have deepening even more when Yoongi takes up a spot at your back. He gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re leaning into his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you in a protective manner.

           When you wince as the man delicately presses down on your already swollen ankle, Yoongi begins talking.

           “So, is it just me, or has this entire night been a disaster?”

           You let out a choked laugh. “No, Yoongs. Well, maybe it has, but it’s all my fault. I can’t believe I fell, how embarrassing…”

           “Oh, are you two out on a date? Er, sorry for prying…”

           Both you and Yoongi awkwardly chuckle. “No, no…um, yeah. We are.”

           “It’s our first date, actually,” Yoongi adds as an afterthought.

           “How exciting! Honey, it’s their first date, did you hear that?”

           The man currently inspecting your ankle spares the two of you a kindly glance. “Good for you two. You make a good looking couple.”

           “But I swear I’ve seen you before,” the mother comments, squinting at Yoongi. “Where do I know you from…”

           You can feel Yoongi tense up behind you, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead he takes to finding your hands (which you’ve slipped into your sweatshirt pocket to avoid accidentally punching the man poking and prodding at your foot), eventually curling his hands around yours and steadily unclenching your fists.

           “Oh! I know it! Do you do commercials?”

           Yoongi lets out an audible sigh of relief, which makes you smile for half a second before a particularly hard prod at your ankle sends you into a tailspin.

           “Yeah, I’ve done a few commercials.”

           “I knew it. How’s it looking, honey?”

           Her husband sits back on his heels, giving you a nod. “Nothing appears to be broken, you just twisted it pretty good. Babe, grab that icepack out of the cooler. You should keep ice on it for a while to counter the swelling.”

           A second later you’re handing a little bag of ice. “I don’t wanna take your ice,” you comment lamely. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, pulling back from you and standing.

           “It’s just a disposable pack we used for the cooler,” the mother explains, waving off your concern. “No need to worry. We’ve got plenty more. Now, go enjoy your date!”

           “Yeah, try your best to have fun. And keep ice on that, on and off for the next couple of days. It shouldn’t give you too much trouble after that.” With a wink toward Yoongi, your temporary nurse gives him a little nudge. “You seem like a good man. I think you’re in good hands here, miss.”

           Young-mi bids you a mournful goodbye as you limp away with Yoongi, quickly coming to find that sand isn’t the kindest to people hopping around on one leg. You’ve made it all of four hops while clinging to Yoongi before he stops.

           “Hop on my back,” he commands, stepping directly in front of you.

           You blanch. “But Yoongi…your shoulder.”

           “It’s fine. Just hop on. You don’t need to limp all the way back to where we’re sitting.” When you hesitate another moment, he looks back at you over his shoulder, his dark eyes sparking in the sunset. “Jagiya.”

           Well, the man puts up a convincing argument.

           Yoongi crouches down so you don’t have to jump, and with a bit of careful maneuvering you manage to hop onto his back. His hands grip your thighs, hoisting you up a bit higher which makes you gasp a little. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on shoulder.

           Setting off toward your abandoned blanket and food, you can’t help but feel a rise of disappointment in your chest.

           “Yoongi?” You mumble, almost sounding like an embarrassed child.

           “Hmm?”

           Hiding your face in the back of his neck, you groan. “I’m sorry.”

           Yoongi’s steps falter before he continues on, confusion evident in his tone. “Sorry? For what?”

           The calm that you felt earlier has completely shattered at this point, and you grit your teeth against the pain in your ankle and the onslaught of emotions that surface. What happened to picture perfect? Why couldn’t you focus?

           Other than sitting in the car together, you feel as though you’ve hardly touched base with Yoongi. You haven’t seen the man in nearly two months, and yet here you are distracted as ever. Distracted with your dumb broke clock, distracted with the audiobook, distracted with a kite.

           Yoongi stops in his tracks as he feels hot tears against his neck. “Jagiya?”

           “I- I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you blubber. “I’m an idiot! I c-can’t focus on anything tonight and…and now I’ve made everything fall apart by going and getting h-hurt…Yoongi, it hurts so bad. A-and now I’m complaining, which is making everything worse!”

           You’re surprised when Yoongi doesn’t say a single thing, instead picking up where he left off as he trudges on toward the blanket. In response to his silence, you continue in your repentant monologue.

           “And you waited in line to get us fooood,” you bite down on your lip as you fight the urge to wail. “It’s probably c-cold now, and you waited for s-so long to get it…I feel like such a bad person…if you don’t wanna continue the date, I u-understand. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you want! J-just, I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I’ve completely ruined this, and you drove t-two hours to get me here….” You’ve reached the blanket now, Yoongi gently sets you down, and you hobble on one foot as you half-expect him to grab his keys and set off toward the car. “I just can’t think straight because I read that stupid pact and-”

           “Woah, back up.”

           Swiveling around to face you, Yoongi has a frown etched into his face. It makes you want to turn and run, to crawl into a cave to die from embarrassment, but it’s the fact that you can barely manage to stand on one foot at the moment – let alone run – that has you standing still.

           “You read the pact?” You blink, hopping a little. When Yoongi sees your struggle he reaches out to you, steadying you. “Here, let’s sit.”

           “W-we’re staying?”

           Yoongi gazes down at you, the look in his eyes turning unspeakable soft. “Yes, jagiya. Unless you aren’t feeling up to it anymore?” He looks as though the thought of leaving now pains him, but he waits patiently for your answer.

           “I wanna stay.”

           “Good. Now, what’s this about you reading the pact?”

           Having successfully turned into a sniffling mess, you wipe away your tears with an angry swipe. It’s time to come clean.

           “I found a copy in Jin’s room-”

           “What were you doing in Jin’s room?!” Yoongi whispers frantically, growing more concerned by the second. You wave him off.

           “-and I took it! I knew I shouldn’t, but I just wanted to know, you know? So I stole it but that was stupid because then I saw that thing on the back…the little note.” Your words trail off, unable to even say the word lovewhen Yoongi’s looking at you like he’s unsure of whether he wants to laugh or cry.

           “The little…note?”

           “Yeah, you know…” You shake your head, moving on. “And since I saw that, I’ve been a mess. Like, an actual mess. I finally called Gina help just to get some help, I needed someone to talk to because you know, I can’t talk to you guys right now which is stupid. But I’m still so lost and I screwed everything up and my ankle hurts Min Yoongi!”

           You’ve stunned yourself into silence with your outburst, Yoongi across from you looks a bit lost himself as he sits back on his heels. It’s clear the moment he comes to a realization.

           “The note.”

           It’s all you can do to breathe normally and not burst out into tears again. Yoongi’s expression turns mournful when he sees you.

           “Oh, jagiya…” leaning forward, Yoongi somehow manages to pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arms around you and tucking your head close to his chest, Yoongi pulls you in as close as he can. He sways gently back and forth, a hand coming up to cup your cheek to make you look at him.

           You do so begrudgingly, feeling like nothing more than a large child. However, the moment you meet his eyes, it hits you like a lightning strike.

           “Do you remember,” he begins quietly, “that time when your final paper accidentally got deleted? All you had left to do on it was add the reference page. You were distraught, remember?”

           Of course you do. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Countless hours spent laboring over a final essay for a class you loathed, only to make a stupid mistake and delete it all. All of it, all nineteen pages were gone in a blink. Your hard work along with it.

           “I remember you called me, a sobbing mess. Obviously I thought you’d hurt yourself, the way you were crying about killed me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, leaving you completely enraptured in his spell as he continues speaking. “I fought with Namjoon because I needed to go see you, but we had a schedule. It was an interview, I don’t even remember for what or with whom, but I was so angry. I seriously thought I was gonna punch him. Then I remembered he goes to the gym a lot more than me, so I didn’t.”

           He manages to make you crack a small grin at that. The sight spurs him on. “But I’ll never forget the sight I saw when I finally made it out to your house later that night. It was like what, two in the morning? No one knew I was even going over, which obviously I did on purpose. I didn’t want to get into another argument. When I walked in your apartment, you were sat at the kitchen table. Remember?”

           The memory is vague, tinged with exhaustion and disappointment, but it’s there. You’d set up camp at your kitchen table all day, missing all other appointments just to try to rewrite your paper. You were half delirious at that point, staring at the screen seemed equal to burning at the stake.

           “I’ve never seen you look more exhausted in my entire life,” Yoongi chuckles. “I remember I was ready to write the paper for you, I was so sad for you. But when I made it over there, I was floored to see that you’d already written it. Not only that, but you’d written twenty-seven pages. Twenty-seven! Who does that?!” He shakes his head at you, looking absolutely shocked.

           “When I asked you why you would do that, you just shrugged and said, ‘why not reach for the stars?’ Then you submitted it, stood up, walked over to me and gave me a hug before going straight to bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there for ages, trying to fathom what had just happened.”

           Yoongi sighs, glancing up at the night sky. You admire his jawline from this angle, nuzzling in a little closer to him for warmth. He notices that you didn’t bring your coat out with you, giving you a playful glare before gently rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

           “Why did you tell me that?”

           You can feel his shrug. “You are more capable, more special than you will ever know. I’ve always kept that in my heart, over the years. Why not reach for the stars? Jagiya…”

           Yoongi shuffles a little bit before cupping your chin and pointing toward the horizon where the sun has slipped down. The night sky is becoming more visible by the second, a few stray stars winking down at you.

           “Look.” He points at a certain spot in the sky just in time for you to see a streak of breathtaking light.

           A falling star.

           In the span of a few minutes, you’re completely speechless as the sky continues to darken and your eyes are glued heavenward. Gradually, more and more falling stars dart across the sky, taking your breath away. As they continue, you recall Young-mi’s words. The sky is coming to say hello.

           Yoongi reaches for your hand, easily enveloping it while tracing the outline of your knuckles.

           “You,” Yoongi breathes out, sending tingles down your spine. “Are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.”

           Heart thundering against your ribs, you turn to look at him only to find his eyes also trained on the heavens. He speaks the words softly, almost to himself, but you still catch them.

           “You’re a star, all the way up there…and I’m all the way down here. Maybe all I’m meant to do is admire you from afar. But for tonight, just for a moment, I’ll hold you.” His eyes slide down to meet yours, glinting with pure starlight. Cold and beautiful. Hurtling toward you, burning up in your atmosphere and leaving you wondering what would happen if you let him in.

           If it would lead to utter destruction or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

           All words have escaped you at this moment in time, but you don’t feel the need to scramble for some sort of a response. Instead you settle for snuggling in a bit closer, allowing Yoongi to hold you a bit tighter.

           Tonight, he’ll hold you close to his chest while what will later be recorded as the most prominent meteor shower in recent history rains down above you. The dark night sky is set aflame with streaks of silver as falling stars graze the earth, sharing a sweet goodnight kiss as they hurtle through space. You marvel at the seemingly never-ending parade the night sky puts on, relishing the way Yoongi keeps your warm as he also marvels at the wonder above you.

           There’s no words that are exchanged for the entirety of the meteor shower, the only form of communication found in the patterns Yoongi traces out against the back of your hand and the way he gazes down at you from time to time. As though making sure you’re really there.

           It’s a long while before the meteor shower begins to fade, and it’s only when you hear Yoongi softly calling your name that you realized you’ve dozed off.

           “It’s over, jagiya,” he coos, brushing hair away from your eyes. “Let’s get you to the car, then you can sleep the rest of the way home.”

           Somehow you two manage to make it to the car, you yourself being much more coherent by then due to the sharp pains in your ankle. You realize that you two are some of the few people left at the beach, making you wonder when everyone else left.

           Your eyes are half-closed when Yoongi begins to drive away, your hand finding his atop the console.

           “You know you don’t need to worry about us, right?” Yoongi mumbles out, glancing over at you with a worried expression. “We’ll support whatever you decide to do. Remember what I said before? You’re the most capable person I know. You don’t need us, not really. Just…be happy.”

           You mumble out something incoherent, not completely realizing that he’s referring to the aftermath of the pact until you’re already asleep.

           The next thing you know, you’re parked in front of your apartment and Yoongi is grinning down at you from the passenger side door.

           “C’mon,” he urges, helping you out of the car. “Careful with the ankle.”

           “Mmm.”

           It takes a bit of careful maneuvering to get up the stairs to your apartment, but you manage to make it. Leaning up against the door, you fumble for your keys.

           Once you’ve found them, you hand them straight over to Yoongi. You’re far too tired to attempt unlocking your door at the moment. He laughs at your behavior, shooting you a proud gummy smile when he unlocks the door. You don’t even have to ask before he’s assisting you inside, helping you hobble to your room before turning to leave.

           “Thank you, Yoongi. For everything.”

           Yoongi smiles down at his shoes. “We’ll swing by tomorrow to check up on you if that’s ok?”

           We.

           Your stomach flips to remember that you’re over now with these dates. Now what-

           “Or just shoot me a text? I know that might be awkward if we all show up…”

           “Thank you. I’ll text you?” You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Yoongi, I…” You trail off, staring up at him from your bed as your mind and heart races. There’s just no words.

           With a soft smile, he leans down and pecks your nose. The innocent gesture has your ears turning red, which widens his grin.

           “I know.” He whispers back.

           And then he’s gone.

           And you’re left here, suddenly colder than ever.

main masterlist

the dates are DONE. please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you! Tomorrow I'll be opening up a poll for your top two dates, so stay tuned for that! 

alsooo stay tuned this week because I may have a lil bonus chapter for you guys 

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @delacyrose224  @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger  @beepbeep11 @extraordinary_reads @vntwishlist @aussiebeachbabes​ @hitsussi @hannah2291 @alwaysasadaesthetic​ 

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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