#wooo been working on this for a month. Glad to finally finish it!

[emositecc]

“Happy Dinner” (PART 1) - an Ice King Identity Crisis AU Comic

Based on @katzone’s Ice King Identity Crisis AU

PART 2 - NEXT PART

[pjmparadise]

3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK

Pairing: jungkook x f! original character

Word count: 12.1k

Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based

Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)

Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.

“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)

a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.

a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3

Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.

His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.

“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.

“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”

“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”

Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”

“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”

Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”

Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”

Jungkook nodded from his living room.

“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”

Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”

“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.

Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.

He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.

The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.

“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.

Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.

Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.

Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.

Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.

He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”

Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.

Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!

Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.

He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.

Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.

“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.

It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.

Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.

Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.

She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?

Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.

Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.

“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.

She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.

Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”

“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.

So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.

“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”

“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”

“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”

“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.

“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 

Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!

“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.

“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”

“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.

He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.

“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”

“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.

“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”

Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.

With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”

Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?

Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.

“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.

“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”

“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says.

“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.

“I am,” he says, glancing her way.

It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.

Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”

Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”

She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”

“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”

She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.

“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.

He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.

“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”

“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”

“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”

“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”

“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”

“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”

“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”

“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”

“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”

Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”

“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.

“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”

“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.

“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”

He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.

The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.

“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”

“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”

“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”

Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”

It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”

“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.

“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”

“Most people sleep, I think.”

She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’

“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”

“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.

Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.

The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.

“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”

“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”

He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”

Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”

“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”

She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”

Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.

“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.

“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”

“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.

“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”

If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.

“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”

“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”

Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.

“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.

“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.

She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”

Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.

What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.

“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”

“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”

Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.

The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.

“I remember,” she says distractedly.

“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.

He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.

“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”

Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”

The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”

“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”

He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”

A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”

“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”

“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”

“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”

“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.

But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.

Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.

The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.

Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.

“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”

Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?

He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.

“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.

Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.

And here they are, five months later.

“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.

He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.

She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”

He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.

“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”

“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”

Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.

“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”

She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.

“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.

She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”

“Right,” he says, nodding.

“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”

“Am I?”

“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.

Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”

“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.

“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”

Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.

Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?

Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”

He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.

“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.

Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”

She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”

He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.

He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.

She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’

“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.

“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.

DAMN!! 

A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.

Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.

The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.

“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.

Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”

Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.

 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.

“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”

Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.

“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”

“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.

“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”

“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”

“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.

Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.

“What did you make?”

“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”

“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.

Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.

“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”

“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.

“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”

“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”

Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”

“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”

“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”

Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”

Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.

“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?��� He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.

“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”

Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.

“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”

“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”

“Well?”

“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”

“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”

“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.

“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”

Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”

Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”

Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.

Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”

Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”

“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.

“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”

“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”

Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.

“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”

Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.

“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”

“It was, what, four in the morning?”

“Three. Close to four.”

“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.

“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”

“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.

“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”

Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.

Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.

Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”

“Get up!”

“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”

“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”

Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.

Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.

Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”

A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.

“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.

Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”

“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.

“At the evacuation, I was there.”

“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”

He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”

“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.

“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.

“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”

“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”

Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.

“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.

Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?

“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?

Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.

He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.

“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.

Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”

“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.

“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.

Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!

“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”

“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.

“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”

“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.

“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”

She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”

He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”

“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”

He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”

“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.

She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”

He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.

He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.

“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.

“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.

“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.

“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”

“Now?”

“Now, get up! Get up!”

“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.

“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”

And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.

taglist: @vsualitae​

A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!

[tyonfs]

hehehe, i can't believe i have one more trimester to go! (and yes ma'am i got that 4.0 again, aaaaaaay!) 4 more months and i'm officially done with grad school!! belated bday celebration was great--i went to a tiki bar and karaoke-d with my besties.

BUT YAYYY!! I'M SO GLAD YOU TOOK THAT BREAK TO SPOIL YOURSELF. totes get the adjusting back to academia tho. that sucks. i hate that period skjhgkfdjh.

as for those fics!!! i have not finished them because i really want to put my heart and soul into them, i need them to be long ass slow burns. like the fake dating!au is at 14k and it's barely getting started. i wanna make sure to include all the fanfic worthy moments of my whole situation into the fic so the plot rn is super dense lmao. but yo fake dating is really something else, imma tell you that. (i may or may not still be experiencing it, really weird, long winded story but i'll gladly share it with you via dm, it's highly entertaining.) as for the surfer fic, it was planned waaaaaay before the jcc but then the vlog fueled the fire! that one is 8k and just getting good too lol. i can never write short fics anymore. i keep re-reading both google docs and wish i can finish them soon but grad school/work is so draining. my goal is to get them out by the year's end!! so we'll see!!

WOOO CONGRATS!! YOURE IN THE FINAL STRETCH :’) it’s crazy to think about how fast uni flies by 🤧 and i’m really glad you enjoyed your bday and got to spend it with friends!! <3

long ass slow burns are soooo grueling to write but the end result is so worth it 🥹 i hope you get to write all the fics you want to your heart’s content ♡ my greatest fear is being 60 one day and regretting not writing smthn i rlly wanted to 😳

HAHAH PLS GO AHEAD AND SHARE IN DMS IF YOU PLEASE BC I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ALL AB THE Y/N MOMENTS 🥹 and i adoreeee fake dating!!! 14k already?? i already know the build up is gonna be so worth it 😌😌 HAHAH U WROTE THE SURFER ONE BEFORE JCC?? THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE BIGGEST SHOCK WHEN HE UPLOADED THOSE PICS AND THE VLOG.. BC I WAS ON MY KNEES 😵‍💫

take your time tho!! im sure you will feel re energized once you don’t have all that schoolwork so good luck and take it easy 💖💖

[rawliverandcigarettes]

The Last Halfway There (probably)

So. Here we are.

This is probably one of the last posts on Halfway Home’s writing process before I actually release the beast.

I have spent the last month working on two things simultaneously: finishing up Halfway Home and locking most of the text, and reaching 100k words in The Empire of Preys.

Halfway Home

I’m going to begin this piece on Halfway Home, as I am passing through the tipping point: the text I have on my computer right now is probably 99,5% of what will be posted on the internet for all of you to read. It’s a wild feeling, one that makes me double-guess basically every single choice I made, because of course!!!

Rereading the whole thing (AGAIN, I am honestly getting a little sick of it) has brought back a lot of feelings. The story has accompanied me during very different times in my life: some happy, some very... precarious, let’s say. The interesting thing about it all is that it truly, absolutely feels like the story of my earlier twenties; the story feels young to me, in its themes and what it is concerned about, in a way that I still relate to but no longer fully align with. Which is fine! I always knew Halfway Home would probably be a great testimony to how my mind was structuring itself during the heart of my youth, and I still think it’s a worthwhile tale of self-definition, and a good reference point to the sort of human being I was, back then (and what it feels like to be broke and young and super vulnerable –which tends to get hazy once you get more financial security and the “please go ahead and project whatever bullshit you feel like onto me (I can’t really fight back anyway)” sign around your neck gets a little faded by time, and I did not want to forget).

I do not think it is a perfect story by any means, but it has reached a point where it’s as good as it could be. I do see, as the author, the staples holding together many, many, MANY versions of the same event mushed together in one final take, but I think any more adjustment would make the story reek of being overworked at this point –even beyond my own perception, which is obviously quite biased. I still made some final adjustments to certain scenes (I knoooow I’m stopping now it’s over I’ll never rework scenes again I *promise*), and I’m glad I did, as these were scenes that were technically functional but did not ring as true as other, similar scenes in the story, and verged slightly towards caricature. Given I feel like I did a fairly good job with the most difficult scenes and I don’t think they read as exploitative –I mean you tell me, but I feel fairly confident in their necessity after my almost-final reread (which wooo! I have tortured myself over the legitimacy of these scenes SO MUCH, like I had actual nightmares about them being torn apart by close friends for being trauma-porn garbage; so I feel very relieved to believe I can actually stand by them without shame, and think they are doing exactly what I wanted them to do and are both necessary and truthful)– it would have been sad to leave in just the one out of sheer laziness.

But beyond all of these feelings and accepting the story’s flaws for being what it is, aka years upon years of work and rework of my very first novel-length story written in English whose first draft I completed in December of 2 0 1 7 h o w, I still love this story and the characters so much. Even if I think some chapters are weaker than others, there are some I am so enamored with and I’m so glad to have written them. It feels good to reread your work and some of the sentences, succession of events or feelings expressed, and go fuck yes me.

Even beyond all that, I’m honestly very proud of myself for having stuck to the grind for so long; for having refused to settle for the first versions and pushed myself to get as far as I could without professional help. Honestly, it’s been hard sometimes. Working for so very long on the same project can feel quite isolating; not to mention that it demands sacrifices, especially in regards to your time. There’s a lot of things I have simply not done –either games to play, other projects to work on, or even hmmm taking care of my health or my sleeping habits– just because I was busying myself so much with the space frogs. And a lot of this work will be completely and utterly invisible in the end! But it’s totally fine. I know what went into this story, the buckwild amount of progress I have made on all aspects of my craft, and I love all these characters deeply and tenderly, which is it’s own reward.

I am like 97% done with the story (I actually am near that, I have an Excel sheet calculating my overall progress and everything –you are a game designer or you are not, what can I say); there is still some feedback I have to implement, thanks to my delightful beta-readers. Speaking of said beta-readers, I am sincerely humbled and deeply appreciative of the quality of feedback I received on my latest versions. It really helped me identify the points of contention I still have with the English language and push myself further where I was still a little slack –all the while helping me identify what was really important for me and my writing style, and what was stylistic fluff that didn’t contribute much (though I was deeply sorry to report I am going to insist and double-down on my bullshit on some aspects that got flagged, and live with the consequences :/).

But beyond that, I have some plot points to tie with The Empire of Preys, and some last-minute decisions to take on things I have left to the side (like some characters’ military ranks as this is so my favorite thing to figure out, the exact timeline of some backstory events, etc...), which really shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.

Then it’s all locked, and (mostly) ready for release! I just have some key art to touch up, and then… Then the release will actually happen.

I do not know how I will handle that reality, to be honest.

I will still have some stuff to handle, on-top of said reality: the release schedule, every announcement post, and I plan to work on a physical copy to justify the last almost-decade of work and have something nice on my shelf! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves on this front (because I will absolutely talk about this again in the future)...

The Empire of Preys

Thankfully for me, I will also not be completely stranded with nothing to work on after November, because: The Empire of Preys is well underway (The Empire of Preys being the sequel-prequel to Halfway Home, and the second tome in the series).

And honestly? It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever written.

Now, I fully realize there is such a thing as the honeymoon effect with a new(-ish) project, and it’s generally expected to inflate the actual quality of the work in relation the feelings of elation associated with it. But I am over 100k words in by this point, and I am still so bewildered with just how well everything is clicking together.

The thing is: it’s not coming from nowhere. Most of the time spent working on Halfway Home was time indirectly spent working on TEoP, as TEoP functions as the backstory and the crux of the plot, the mystery hanging in the background. But still! This is a *complicated* story, much, much more complicated than Halfway Home ever was (at least on the surface). And the pieces just fit together so well? Character arcs unfold with much more delicacy and complexity than I dared hoping for; the plot seems to make sense? Maybe? And there is a lot of energy on the page. It’s fun! We’re having fun!

I am not saying this is a perfect first draft by any means: I’m already identifying points that need to be smoothed up, question marks I left for myself to solve in the future, and I will have a shit ton of work making sure each narrative voice is distinct from the other while still being stylistically interesting (right now I am a little too forward and dry for my taste). But! I think I managed to recontextualize characters from Halfway Home without contradicting who they are presented as (I am *so curious* to have the reactions to some character heelturns, especially to those who are the most heavily judged by readers in Halfway Home overall, and end up being some of the most emotionally complex characters in The Empire of Preys –one of them in particular even surprised me).

When I mentioned earlier that Halfway Home feels like the work of my early twenties, The Empire of Preys feels (for understandable reasons) very relevant to who I am right now, and what I’m interested in –or tormented by, alternatively. While I will regularly whine that Halfway Home is political in an intimate way –and I believe that it is– The Empire of Preys is political.

What I mean by that is: it’s proposing ideas, defending ideas, and putting them to the test. The point of view characters are educated and savvy enough to develop philosophical perspectives on social organization, economical disparity, internal and external competition over power. This story is, very explicitly, about modern empires; more specifically about the cost of maintaining them.

To express just how awfully political it all is (beyond the plot on the financial crisis –which I am so dang happy about, I think it makes sense and says interesting things!!!): there is an entire chapter about a debate between candidates campaigning to win an election. It’s that kind of story.

There are a couple of challenges that come with this format: beyond the difficulty in making it thrilling and interesting for a reader that isn’t me, I need to make sense! When my characters begin to spew huge monologues on the nature of monetary value, or legacy, or the line between cooperation and assimilation, they need to be internally consistent –at least enough to convince the characters that are spewing them. So I need to think very hard about the characters’ philosophy; I need to actually devise what the electoral program of candidate X would involve in a concrete way, and I need to invent problems that can never truly be solved, or with complicated and imperfect solutions –all the while making them specific to how these alien societies would work.

In a related vein, one of my biggest hurdles right now comes with writing PoV characters with very drastically different political views to mine. The main cast of this story shares very different opinions, all of them more or less developed depending on their level of education and active interest in whatever is going on within the galaxy at that moment in time –and some can be difficult to map on the classic left/right spectrum, as the problems of these societies are not always equivalent to ours. I have also developed a philosophy as I wrote this project: I don’t want to write characters I believe to be wrong and/or actively dangerous with condescension. I don’t want the story to mock them, or have the world twist around them to make them sound wrong, ridiculous, or stupid. I want to take them at face value, and see where their ideas lead with as little judgment as I can manage. And it’s hard.

The character that is giving me the most trouble by far (it’s a little spoiler but an acceptable one I think) is dalatrass Linron. I expected to have fun writing her because she is so despicable in so many ways, and a completely dysfunctional mess on a personal level too; but the truth is, I might have made her too mean and dumb in my outline, which felt prescriptive and authorial in a bad way when I tried putting these ideas to the page. So now, I’m trying to compensate this first instinct within the text itself –making her narrative voice the most difficult to get right, by a long mile.

I think this story is challenging in the sense that it’s challenging me: how I think about the world, my biases on that fictional universe, but also the real one. I am not trying to be objective, as I do not believe in the concept of objectivity in fiction, but I am trying to be perceptive. While I am not going to shy away from my own beliefs and how I decide to identify the scourge of that fictional world, I don’t want this story to feel like a morality tale. It’s a complicated balance, and an extremely ambitious story on that front (and to be honest, on every front).

But I think I am doing fairly well for a first draft, and especially the first draft of this particular story (even if there still are way too many salarian characters, and I don’t know who to cut without breaking my story).

I am not writing linearly, so the chapters I have completed do not follow each other, and I have huge blocks of text of unfinished chapters hanging around –but to simplify, I have ten chapters completed at this point, and around five more who are fairly advanced. It’s going really well! I have scary chapters coming up (one of them is a heist, I have zero idea how to write that –and there is a romantic subplot that equally terrifies me), but while I don’t know if I’ll be able to accomplish my goal of having the first draft completed by the end of 2022, I think I’ll still be at least three quarters down if life doesn’t decide otherwise.

Conclusion

So yay! Here’s where I’m at, during the last moments of summer of 2022.

Expect way more posts from this blog until the end of the year (especially on thursdays); and then some more as Halfway Home gets released one chapter at a time. I still need to confirm everything will be ready by then, so I will reveal the exact release date later in October –giving myself as many exit plans as I can in case I have a last minute panic moment and realize I said something blatantly wrong that I actually totally disagree with and will keep me up at night for the rest of my life if I don’t fix it before release (GOD I HOPE NOT).

Until then, I salute you and wish you the best of days.

[word-scribbless]

Oh Baby Chapter 10

Wooo there’s a lot happening in this bad boy! And a lot of cute dad Gibbs moments! Enjoy! Thanks to the lovely @leroyjethrogibbsgirl for the brainstorming and writing sessions!

Masterlist | oh baby master list

—————

Since Amelia’s party the Gibbs family had been doing pretty well. They were still doing family counseling sessions, and Y/N and Gibbs had been going together as well. Y/N knew since gibbs wasn’t a talker, if they went together he’d get to hear strategies that they told Y/N to try and wouldn’t feel so alone.

Gibbs had even agreed to start a low dose of medication to help with his panic and episodes. Y/N was beyond proud of her husband and couldn’t believes the process he made. Sniper was also a big help, and the fact that his little girl loved snuggling up to him, which always calmed him down.

Y/N was feeling close to normal again until Gibbs got a call from Vance that had him seething. She set Amelia and Piper up with toys in her room and went in to check on Gibbs.

“Hey baby wh-“

“He’s out”

“What? Who?Y/N asked and then froze. “That maniac that tried to take our daughter is out?”

“Escaped during transport. Agents are coming here to guard the house, but I’m staying and working the case from here. Dinozzo’s got point at NCIS. I’m not leaving you girls.”

She hugged him tight, amazed that he was not running to the navy yard to make sure he can tackle the man himself.

It had been a solid week of fear for the Gibbs family. All three of them stayed hunkered in their home with police details around the perimeter. Y/n made sure to not scare Amelia by making it like a mini vacation but Gibbs could tell it was getting to her. And y/n could tell it was wearing Jethro down. She had even began to suspect that he had stopped taking his medication.

He was on edge, more so than normal, moody and a little snappy. Y/N also noticed that when she went to put her bottle of new meds away that Gibbs’ hadn’t been touched.

Y/N had woke up that morning, expecting her husband to already be up grumbling around like usual.

She was surprised when she walks downstairs to Jethro making breakfast. She smiled and kissed his cheek, scooping Amelia from her seat.

“Hey there my cuties! How are we doing?” She asked as she goes to put coffee on.

“Good just got up” Gibbs said as he kissed both girls.

“I can tell, no coffee yet.” She laughed and Amelia said.

“Poppa love coffee!”

“He sure does!” Y/N agreed.

“Coffee and my girls, all I need” He said with a smile.

As they sat down for their breakfast they suddenly heard a loud bang and yelling at the front door. Suddenly their door was knocked down and the man that had once again put them through hell was facing him.

“Where is my grand daughter!?” He screamed.

Gibbs grabbed his gun quickly from the safe and Pushed Y/N with Amelia in her arms behind him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gibbs yelled and moved further between his girls and the man.

“I’m here from my grand daughter!” He lunged forward and Y/N thought quickly throwing the freshly brewed coffee at him, giving her time to get Amelia out of the room and lock them both in the bathroom, calling 911.

By the time Y/N was off the phone, she heard a gun shot and huddled Ami closer to her until Jethro knocked on the door “it’s me it’s safe.”

He whispered and Y/N leaned enough to unlock the door while huddling Amelia close. Gibbs pushed in and scooped his girls in his arms.

“He’s gone” he said and kissed her head. “We’re safe.”

“Gone gone?” She asked.

He nodded “pulled a gun on me, officers saw it. It’s already been declared self defense... it’s over.”

She nodded and snuggled into him allowing Amelia to cling to them both as he continued to sooth them both.

“We need to head to NCiS to for debrief and report officially.”

“Bad man gone? We see my Ziva?”

“Yeah baby the bad man is gone and we’ll see your Ziva and uncles probie and Tony.”

“Yayyy daddy keep us safe”

“Always” Gibbs said as he snuggled her close.

The Gibbs family showed up and NCIS a little worse for wear. Y/N was holding onto Amelia pretty tight, she clung back around her neck even tighter and had her little hand around her dad’s finger as they walked.

Gibbs was very agitated and y/N could tell. He separated and went to debrief with the director.

Y/N and Amelia say and Gibb’s desk with Ziva and the rest of the team when Gibbs came out. “I’m done with this, you should have done more they heard Gibbs scream and slam the door, his flip phone bouncing off the floor.

“Gibbs” director Vance shouted as Y/N and Tony stood up to go after Gibbs and Amelia became crying.

“Jethro!” Y/N yelled as she and and Tony caught up to him as he reached the elevator.

“I’m fine!” He grunted.

“You’re not” Tony said

“You’re shaking” y/n pointed out and held his hand. He shook her off and gruffly said “I am fine.”

“Boss you’re not. You need to get yourself together.” Tony said

“For us, for me and your daughter” she said and Gibbs looked up to where Amelia was crying in ziva’s arms.

He sniffed and nodded his head taking Y/N’s hand.

“I scared her”

“We’re all scared, we need you. It’s okay if you’re scared but we need you.”

He nodded again and y/N started to pull him toward the desks

“will you hear us out? Let us help you? Please?” Y/N asked as he scooped Amelia from Ziva.

“Peas let us help poppa! We no want you be angy! Me and momma give you huggies and we all feel better!” She squeaked as she hugged him. “Get help for mealia poppa!” She said nuzzling into him and he could feel the last of his walls breaking down.

“I’m sorry I yelled baby! I’m so sorry.” He sniffled and held onto her and Y/N’s hand.

“It’s Otay poppa! Me and momma and da team help you!”

“That’s right boss we’re here” Ziva said and Tony and McGee nodded.

“Jethro” y/n whispered. “Needing help, needing medication or a counselor isn’t weak.”

“I know” he whispered. “You’re the strongest person I know I just, I shouldn’t need all that to protect you.”

“You don’t need that to protect us but you do need help to manage the anxiety of the situation. We all do. And most of all we need you. So please do whatever it takes to make sure we have that?”

He nodded and hugged his girls to him “anything for you both.”

“We can all go together tonight, I’ll call in an emergency appointment, please?”

Gibbs nodded and looked at his team.

“We’ll wrap this up and we’ll deliver dinner to your house tonight” ducky insists.

“Thank you all” Gibbs whispered as he and his girls got on the elevator.

“Thank you for sticking by me, I’m so sorry I scared you.” Gibbs said as he guided his girls towards the car.

“Poppa no scary” Amelia said “poppa saved us and was angry at scary guy!”

“Yup poppa is our hero!” Y/n said

“Momma was pretty brave today too, I taught you well but where’d that coffee trick come from.” He smiled.

“Needed to protect our baby bear” she chuckled and ticketed Amelia’s side.

Gibbs smiled whispering “I love you momma bear”

“And we’re both very glad we have you as the poppa bear to our momma and baby bear!”

Gibbs smiled and kissed Y/N before driving home.

About 2 weeks after the incident at the Gibbs home and the impromptu intervention, things were looking up for the Gibbs family. Gibbs, Y/N and Amelia had all been attending counseling, together and separately, whatever any of them needed.

Gibbs was getting back into the swing of taking his medication and finally feeling safer and more relaxed about Amelia not being right near him. There were tough days for all involved but they always had each other to lean on.

Lately when Gibbs was working on his boat the girls would sneak away to Amelias room to work on a “secret project” or “the -ecret propject” as Amelia called it. Gibbs played along and smiled after Y/N told him she promised she’d give his first mate back to help on his boat as soon as the project was finished.

Gibbs knew Father’s Day was coming up and couldn’t deny he was pretty excited for their “propject”. So he would take Sniper down the basement with him instead of his girls to keep him company.

While Gibbs and His puppy son were having bonding time with the boat, the girls were hard at work on a few very special gifts and Amelia (and Y/N had been having a very hard time keeping a secret. The night before Father’s Day Y/N wrapped up the gifts in brown butchers paper and had Amelia color all over it. She hid it away and smiled as she thought about his face when he would open it.

The next morning Y/N woke up bright and early somehow succeeding in waking up before her perpetually early husband. He didn’t stay sleeping long, when she moved to get up he rasped “morning baby”

She huffed and turned to kiss him. “Good morning handsome, but it’s Father’s Day so please either go back to sleep or just lay here and pretend we woke you up in like 15 minutes. “Yes ma’am” he smiled as she got and went to leave the room before popping her head back in. “And happy Father’s Day, thanks for doing this whole parenting thing with me.” She added, causing his face to break into a big smile.

She left the room and snuck into Amelias room, kissed her head.

“Hey baby” she said and watched her daughter sleepily open her eyes.

“Hi momma” she whispered and the. Promptly added “poppa?”

Y/N giggled and answered “it’s poppa day so we’re gonna bring him coffee in bed!”

“Yayyy!” She cheered

Y/N and Amelia prepared Gibbs coffee and presents and headed upstairs.

That snuck into his and Y/N’s room and “woke” him up by kissing his cheeks.

“Well hello there my beautiful girls, and boy” he said and kissed them both, patting sniper, who had followed them in, on the head.

“HAPPY POPPA DAY POPPA!” Amelia squealed as Gibbs set his coffee down to scoop her up!

“We has presents!”

“You do?” Gibbs asked with a smile as Y/N set them down for Amelia to give him.

“We worked really hard on these ones huh meals? We started a few months ago.” Y/N said as Gibbs began to open the larger package leaving out that they had actually started this project when they were in protective custody, to help them not miss him so much.

As he tore the paper he saw 2 scrap books and couldn’t help but smile as he flipped through the first one that said family.

There were over a dozen decorated pages with pictures of his family. Every group he’d ever called his family in fact. Old pictures of when he was a boy, pictures with Mike franks and dwayne pride from his early days of NCIS, pictures with Shannon and Kelly, pictures of his current NCIS team with hand written notes from each of his 3 agents and plenty of pictures of him, Amelia, and Y/N. On the back page was a picture Amelia had drawn (with Y/N’s help) of all the people in her family. Gibbs teared up when he saw it included a scribbled frame in stick figure Amelia’s hand labeled “Shannon and my sister Kelly”.

“Poppa you like it?” Amelia peeped as she climbed up to wipe his tears.

“I love it baby! Thank you so much. He said as he smiled at Y/N.

“Momma you said da other one would make poppa cry!” She giggled as she went to sit in her mom’s lap so her dad could look at the second book.

“All happy tears though” y/n clarified as she kissed her head.

Gibbs picked up the second book and quickly understood why Y/N would say he’d cry. One the front cover were bright stickered letters that said “Gibbs’ girls” and smaller silver font that said “a picture book of proof that you’re the best dad ever”

The tears came as he opened the first page and saw 2 pictures, one of Amelia and himself sanding his boat, and one of Kelly and him sanding a boat. With decorations and Y/N’s hand writing that said “2 girls lucky enough to be their dad’s ‘first mate’.

Gibbs looked up and pulled both his girls into a hug. “I love it” he whispered.

“We used pictures we knew you were okay with sharing with us and they are all copied. Originals are safe in their boxes.” Y/N explained.

“What could be better than a picture book of all of my girls huh?” He smiled as he turned to her page that proudly showcased photos of all 4 of his girls.

“We were hoping you’d tell us the stories of some of them” y/N said and Gibbs nodded as he began telling a story about riding horses with Kelly.

“Poppa one more!” Amelia peeped after his story.

“Another gift?” He asked an took the small box from her.

“Yup, this one we didn’t hand make, but it’s still special” y/N explained.

Gibbs opened the box to see a silver with a small silver tag holding a link of chain together, the tags had the initials K and A etched in it, and on the back that laid against his arm it said “#1 dad to Kelly and Amelia Gibbs”

He couldn’t even talk he was so loved by the gift.

“Thank you” he said as he tucked both of them under his arm.”

“We wanted you to know how lucky all your girls were and are to have you J” Y/N said with a kiss to his cheek as Amelia added “best poppa Eva”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve any of you.” He said as Y/N clasped the bracelet on. “But I am so lucky.”

The Gibbs’ spent that day enjoying and celebrating being a family, as well as visited and calls from each of the team to their ‘work dad’ and Y/N put it. Gibbs couldn’t have asked for a better ‘poppa day.”

——-//

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

[cornyregans]

Capp Manor - Day 4

Our visit to the Capp Manor begins with an early morning sibling confrontation.

Tybalt: Why are you interrupting my morning dance session? Juliette: You’re in my room, lameass! Get out!

As soon as everyone went off to school or work, the penguin dropped by for a visit.

Tybalt returned home from school with an A+.

Tybalt: Look, Grandfather, I’m smart!

Um, hate to break it to you dude, but Consort’s still at work.

Not to be outdone by her older brother, Hermia got an A+ of her own.

Hermia: FINALLY!

Hermia: I finally got an A+ of my very own!

The celebratory atmosphere came to an abrupt end once Juliette realized that her toilet was clogged.

Juliette: That damn idiot brother of mine! Who does he think he is, clogging my toilet?! He better watch his back!

Tybalt and Juliette also brought some townie friends home. Heck, Tybalt’s is even wearing a similar suit. Who knew Great-Grandpa Octavius was such a fashion icon?

Tybalt: Hey, person who actually wants to hang out with me, guess what time it is? That’s right, it’s noogie time! Jihoon: Dude? I know you’re a social trainwreck to the nth degree, and that’s cool, but this is not how you make friends with someone.

Once he arrived home and saw that the manor was filled with teens, Consort decided to invite his two living daughters over for a visit.

Goneril: Juliette! Juliette: Aunt Gon! Regan: Don’t forget about me! I’m walking over as fast as I can!

Upon entering the manor, both sisters made a beeline for the nearest bathroom. Goneril got there first, and Regan wasn’t exactly happy about it.

Regan: How long are you planning to be on the toilet? Goneril: Regan, I drank five cups of coffee throughout the day. I can’t tell you exactly when I’ll be through here, but it won’t be for quite awhile. Regan: Oh, take your time. It’s not like I have two babies pushing down on my bladder right now. Nope, I can wait forever. Goneril: Playing the pregnancy card won’t work on me, Sister. I have four children of my own, all of whom have pressed down upon my bladder while they were growing inside of me. You should be aware of that little fact considering you were present for each of their births. Oh, and speaking of things you should remember, there are three other bathrooms in this manor. If you cannot hold it in, then please use one of them and leave me be.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Goneril decided to spend some time watching TV in Tybalt’s room.

Goneril: Goodness, Tybalt. Of all things I expected to see on my visit today, a girl actually liking you enough to let you touch her was at the absolute bottom of my list. Tybalt: Shut it, Aunt Goneril! I’m plenty popular with the ladies! Goneril: I’ve heard otherwise from more reliable sources, thank you very much.

Juliette: I just realized that I haven’t slapped my brother around for clogging my toilet yet. I should get on that.

Luckily for Tybalt’s face, Goneril managed to distract Juliette with a pillow fight.

Juliette: GOTCHA! Goneril: Oh! So you have, my dear niece! But I’ll get you yet!

Outside the manor, the ghost of Scribonia Capp was making the rounds yet again.

Scribonia: My mother would not be happy with the current state of this family!

Scribonia: She would especially hate my hideous great-grandson who has the audacity to go around wearing my late-husband’s clothes! Why, his lack of charisma is absolutely atrocious!

It was also during this haunting that I realized Scribonia also has a discrepancy regarding her aspiration. Much like Julius Caesar, she is clearly displaying a thought bubble containing the family aspiration. Unlike Caesar, she does not possess the unfinished “power” aspiration, rather she was yet another fortune sim in the Capp family.

She also decided to channel her late father-in-law by possessing the inflatable pumpkin.

Scribonia: Wooo! This pumpkin is disappointed!

Back inside the manor, Consort and Regan decided to spend some father/daughter time while engaged in a battle of wits.

Consort: So, you’re saying that you have two children in there? Regan: Yes, Father. Honestly, I found the thought a little overwhelming at first, but now, Corny and I couldn’t be happier. After all that has happened, neither of us thought we would even have one child, to suddenly be having two...words cannot describe how much joy we are feeling. Consort: How delightful! I am very much looking forward to meeting some new grandchildren. May I try talking to them? I believe you are far enough along for them to be able to hear outside noises, are you not? Regan: You are absolutely right, Father. Please, go ahead.

Consort: Hello, grandchildren, I am your grandfather. My, you both gave us quite a scare all those months ago. I am glad to see that the two of you and your mother are well. Make sure you do not cause her too much trouble once you are out, you hear me? Regan: I’m sure they’ll be fine, Father. They’ve been fairly well behaved since the scare. Consort: You are probably right, dear. I just want to make sure they do not find themselves being questioned by the authorities after causing a scene in public. After all, we have to do everything we possibly can to keep the family name from being sullied. Regan: I see...

Consort: Oh, that was good fun! Do you mind if I feel -- Regan: My apologies, Father, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. It’s nothing against you personally, but you have a tendency to use a little too much pressure when pressing down on things. Consort: Goodness, Regan! I thought you were pregnant, not made of glass.

Regan: Made of glass?! Well excuse me for being cautious, Father! Consort: Cautious? Regan: Yes, cautious! I’m sure the words “recurrent pregnancy loss” don’t mean much to you personally, but those words have haunted me and my husband for fifteen years now! We very nearly lost these two once already, and all we want is for them to arrive in this world both happy and healthy! Is that too much to ask, Father?! Corny and I are so close to finally having the family we’ve wished for for so long, and I’ll be damned if my own father takes that away from us!

Consort: You’re right Regan, I’m sorry. Come here. Regan: Oh goodness, I’m such a mess! I can’t believe I lost my temper like that. Consort: Pish posh! You’re fine! Just try to relax and keep your stress levels down. Should anything happen, do not forget that I am just a phone call away. Regan: Thank you, Father. Perhaps I should be going now? It’s getting rather late and I’m quite tired. Consort: That sounds reasonable. Good night, Regan.

While things quieted down a bit after the guests left and everyone went to bed, the calm was eventually broken when Mercutio came back to kick over the trash can again. Since Consort was the first one awake, he went out to pick it back up. Unfortunately, he was greeted with quite a nasty surprise.

Consort: You’ve done it now, Monty! Thanks to you, my sweet Tessie’s home could have been infested with these hideous insects. I hope you’re happy!

Consort: Goodness, I finish up with these cockroaches, and I very nearly wet myself. You and your family better keep one eye open, Monty, because you went too far this time!

[wateryourplance]

Everyone Needs A Lance! (Lance/Pidge)

(Pidgance Month, Day 1: Illogical | I couldn’t think of anything else)

“Pidge, look!”

“We’re supposed to be working on this robot.”

“I know, but looook!”

“No, Lance.”

“But Pidge, look!”

Pidge let out an exasperated groan as she tore her gaze from her laptop, looking over her shoulder to see what silly charade her friend was up to this time.

Lance beamed at her proudly, a blue paper crown resting on his head. “Bow down to your handsome and beloved king!” He announced as he clumsily stood up, trying his best not to make his paper crown fall. He posed in a kingly manner as he waited for her opinion.

But all she did was stare at him unmoving with wide eyes, her jaw dropped. She was stunned, clearly.

Lance figured it was because he looked totally awesome. That is, until she finally spoke.

“...you did not just turn our blueprints into a crown.”

“Wait, these were our blueprints?”

Pidge's eyebrow twitched. Of course he didn’t know. He wasn’t paying attention. She pushed herself up from her seat, brushing past Lance as she fell onto her bed. She buried her face into her fluffy green pillow, murmuring something incoherent. Lance, however, was sure it was over the lines of ‘this was the third time this week’.

Lance laughed nervously, sitting next to her. “Aw, c’mon, Pidge. You’re smart. You can make a new one.”

She slightly rose her head to be heard properly. “Go home, Lance.”

Lance faltered slightly. “But our project--”

“I’ll work on it alone.” Pidge cut in as she sat up, embracing the pillow to her chest. She had an adorable pout on her face that Lance desperately wanted to comment on, but he knew it wasn’t the time. She fixed her glasses that had fallen off when he collapsed onto her bed. “Just...go home.”

Lance frowned. “I’m really sorry, Pidge.”

“I’m sure you are.” She remarked monotonously, glaring at him weakly. “The only reason we’re not finished is because you keep getting distracted. I mean, fine, that’s just you. Typical Lance, I get it. But the worst part is you keep sucking me into your weird shenanigans!”

“Like what?” He demanded, crossing his arms, pouting. If only Pidge knew the reason behind it all.

“Like Monday! Why’d we have to follow Keith home?”

“Hey, you found his rendition of ‘Emotions’ hilarious! And you enjoyed it when he chased us to Shiro’s place!”

Pidge darted her eyes elsewhere, embarrassed. He wins that round. “W-well...” she coughed into her hand, “you convinced me to binge watch Doctor Who! We could’ve finished the robot’s skeleton already!”

“Yeah? And you realised you skipped like, three important episodes!” Lance argued.

“...Tuesday.” She began once again, completely ignoring his statement. After all, he was right. Again.  “We didn’t have to go to the robo-con.”

Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Please, Pidge, everyone knew how bad you wanted to go. Plus, if it didn’t go wouldn’t have gotten that Sparkfun gyro...thingy-majigy for half off! Still don’t understand why such a small thing would cost like twenty-five bucks...”

“Sparkfun Tri-Axis Gyro Breakout. The L3G4200D’s the best one out there!” Pidge defended.

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that. The G200 Lock Gyro was so much cuter and you know it!”

Pidge sighed. “It’s not a matter of cute, Lance. Besides, all tech is beautiful the way they are.”

“Suuuuuure.”

“Plus yesterday, you convinced me to take a nap. We could’ve--”

“Finished wiring the motors and the battery.” Lance finished on cue, now grinning widely. “You said that when you woke up, I knoooow. Plus, it was your brother’s idea! Not mine!”

Pidge shrugged. “You could’ve stopped him.”

“But you got to sleep, didn’t you?” He asked. “Weren’t you complaining that day about the lack of sleep?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t wanna nap mid-wiring!”

Lance chuckled, shaking his head. “You still got what you wanted those days. Monday was boring to you, Tuesday was the last day of the con and yesterday you needed sleep.”

And again, silence.

Lance turned to look at Pidge. She was playing with the hem of her pillowcase, refusing to meet his eyes. “...why?” She finally asked.

Lance’s face softened as he scooted a little closer. “Well...uh, Matt told me you were trying to get into MIT...”

Finally, Pidge looked at him with glossy eyes. Wait, was she actually close to crying? “Matt...told you?”

“Yeeeaaah, he did.” Lance nervously rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “He slipped when I asked him why you were so much more sassy last week and he mentioned something about you staying up, researching about getting into MIT. He said you were stressed...and stuff. I guess I thought I’d take your mind off of it and try relieving the stress and stuff...” he trailed off.

Before he knew it - no, before any of them knew it - Pidge’s arms were wrapped around his body. She buried her face in his firm chest. “...thanks, Lance.”

Lance grinned, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he returned the act. He never thought of Pidge to be a spontaneous hugger. Or maybe it was because she was so overwhelmed with his kindness and awesomeness. Either way, he was lucky to be have the I-love-my-personal-space-I-will-fite-you Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt in his arms. “No problem, dude. Glad you appreciate it.”

“But...”

His heart sank as he panicked internally. “But what?” He asked, frantic.

“But why did you have to use the blueprints? Seriously. That was just illogical of you. What were you thinking? I was already finishing up the legs and the last thing would’ve been the chest, then we could’ve gotten it 3D printed already with the gauge steel we saw--”

Lance cut her off by yawning, pulling her closer as he rested his chin on her head. “Worry about that tomorrow. Your eyes were getting sore already.”

“How’d you--”

“I’m sleepy.”

“Then go home, you goof.”

“You need to sleep too. So sleep.”

“Then go.”

Lance chuckled, letting Pidge feel the vibration from his chest. He didn’t speak anymore, but he started moving. Pidge wasn’t sure what on earth he was doing, but she soon realised when her whole body was in contact with her bed. ‘Oh. Oh. This is happening.’

“Lance...?”

No answer.

“Lance.”

Still nothing.

She sighed. Guess she was stuck. In his arms. On her bed. Surrounded by his warmth.

Not that she was complaining.

Pidge’s eyes snapped open upon feeling uncomfortably cold.

Lance was gone.

Or maybe it was all just a dream?

It was all too good to be true, to real to be a dream.

She lazily got off her bed, lazily dragging her feet to the window. It was already dark.

She let out a grunt, cursing Lance under her breath. She sat on her swivel chair, ready to finish the chest plate even without the blueprints. Lance was right, after all. She was smart enough to make a new one. Smart enough to work without a blueprint.

Her laptop was closed, however. Weird. She didn’t recall ever slamming it shut out of irritation (and that was a very common occurrence for her). She shrugged, opening it, only to find a folded piece of paper taped to her screen. “That gets the screen gross and stained...” she muttered to herself, taking the note.

‘YO PIDGEY! IT’S YA BOY LANCE.’

Pidge rolled her eyes, but read on.

‘I’m gone ‘cause Matt sorta walked in and went angry brotha bear on me. I SWEAR I DIDN’T TOUCH YOU LIKE THAT! He didn’t listen lol but check out the package near your bed NOWW!!!’

Pidge’s eyebrows furrowed together as she put the paper down, walking towards her bed. True enough, there was a medium sized box next to her bed with another folded note. She wasted no time in reading.

‘Don’t bother with continuing the legs and chest plate and going to the 3D printing place. GOT THAT DONE YESTERDAY WOOO! I’m not as ‘illogical’ as you think!’

Pidge bit her lip, trying to keep herself from grinning like an idiot. She moved on to the box.

It was...

It was wrapped around layers of tape.

She scanned the message again.

There was a little P.S. near the bottom.

‘P.S.: I ALSO TAPED IT A LOT SO IT’LL BE HARD TO OPEN JUST IN CASE ANYONE TRIES OPENING IT! Trust me, even Shiro couldn’t open it!’

Never mind, he was just as illogical as she thought.

But that was fine. Everyone needed someone like Lance, even if he did make questionable decisions a lot.

[growlithe-and-company]

Wooo can’t believe i’m 20? Like that’s a thing now? 2 decades I’ve been on this Earth. How time flies... So in celebration of turning 20 I think I’m going to post 20 things that I like about myself and my life.

1. I actually really like my lips and smile. Only thing I’m super vain about.

2. I love my eyes as well. They’re a pretty hazel, greyish green and brown. 

3. I have got such a cute cat! Maggie is her name. She’s easily my most favourite thing about my life. She’s made me so happy.

4. I have two really awesome friends. One being @miss-stary-eyes, we met here on Tumblr years ago.. lost count of how many years, at least 4 years ago. We did a rp together, I remember it! I played Loki and she played an OC called Eona, and Loki was teaching her magic (and he of course fell in love with her). Ahh we’ve been through so much, my dear, and I’m so glad you’re in my life. The second, or really first friend (since I met her 8 years ago) is my dear best friend Laurena, who isn’t on Tumblr but she has always been there for me and her and I share so many amazing memories. Don’t know where I’d be without my two favourite girls!

5. I have a tongue piercing that I’m low key obsessed with? It’s such a great little fidget thing to distract me in stressful times. I just roll the top ball on the roof of my mouth or slip the bottom of the bar across my lips (not smacking against my teeth, that’d be dreadful)

6. My town in Animal Crossing is pretty damn gorgeous if I do say so myself. I’ve spent months working on it and it’s come out really nice. No way near finished, but it’s looking damn good.

7. I live almost entirely by myself. Between work and his fiance, my dad is rarely at home. So while he still pays for everything, I get to reap the rewards! I love being alone, and having an entire house to myself. FUCK WEARING PANTS.

8. I know how to knit, which is definitely a fun skill to have. I’ve knit myself two full sized blankets, and several dozen scarves. I’d love to learn to knit a jumper one day, that is my goal.

9. Ever since moving out of my mums place I’ve developed a really great relationship with my sister. I’m so thankful for that because her and I get along really great when we’re not in each others spaces.

10. I really applied myself these past two years and got 3 courses done. Certificate III in Tourism, another cert III in Travel, and then a diploma of travel and tourism! I’m so proud of myself for accomplishing these.

11. My room is currently my nerd station. I have several posters hanging up (my fave being my Iron Man poster, but I also love my Captain America poster that’s in the front room) and I have several other little nerdy knick knacks laying around. I love it, my little nerd paradise.

12. My hair grows pretty quickly! I had my hair cut super short at the start of the year, it was shaved on the sides and slightly shaggy on the top. Currently I have it pulled back in a loose ponytail, all of it tied back, and about 6 inches of hair in the pony!

13. I struggled with this.. but I finally got through my learning drivers licence and am now on my provisional. It took me 7 tries to pass my practical test, and luckily only one try to pass my hazard perception test. BUT IT’S DONE! I’m on the home stretch now. 2 years time and I’ll have my full licence booiiiiii

14. Ok, this is gonna get deep and borderline triggering. So I put it in the tags for trigger warning but this is your second warning. When I was 14, I tried to kill myself. Twice actually. First time I just cried and then got mad (at myself, at the doctors for helping me, at my mum). But the second time really shook me. The nurses were cool to me, the doctors didn’t seem to care, I knew I was wasting their time, resources, and energy because I did this on purpose, whereas there’s probably someone else who needs them more than me. I felt like a piece of shit after the second attempt and it really shook me to the core. It’s been 6 years since then.. Wow 6 years, that’s insane. I’m so proud of myself, I’ve made serious progress. I get a little depressed now and again, and I’m a little lonely. But I’m ok, I have things in my life that I’m so happy about, and things that have happened since my attempt that have made everything so worth it. It gets better, it truly does. 

15. I have got such a nice little book collection going on. I don’t read anymore, I wish I still did. I keep buying books to hopefully spark my old reading bug back to life. So I’ll probably have a huge bookshelf filled with books that I don’t read haha. Actually, that’s a lie. I do still read. Every year I re-read The Hobbit. It’s my favourite book and I love it with all my heart. I have a signed copy by Bombur and Bofur! James (Bofur) forgot to sign the book (I asked them to write a quote on top of the signature) and when I realised with Steven (Bombur) that James forgot to sign it I kinda just sighed and said oh well. But Steven said “oh nah, we’ll sort it.” -leans over and smacks James on the arm with the book- “Oi, ya egg, you forgot to sign it!” James laughed and apologised, and quickly signed it. That is a memory I will never forget, seeing Peter call James an egg and smacking him, it was the highlight of my comic con trip.

16. Speaking of comic con! I met another famous dwarf at a previous comic con. Dean O’Gorgeous, er I mean O’Gormon. I got a photo done with him and boiiiii I told him an awful joke to break the ice. Lemme share it with you. “Why does Gandalf walk funny?”  “I don’t know, why?” “Because he has crystal balls...” Yeahhhhhh I said that to him with a straight face and he did that forced laugh you do when a kid tells you a totally not funny joke but you gotta laugh because you don’t wanna hurt their feelings. Anyway that was awkward as fuck, so we took the photo and my god he was so warm like hoo boy like a furnace but yeah awkward as fuck don’t know why I told you guys because yikes I couldn’t get out of there fast enough hahaha.

17. My cousin, Hannah, sent me a little letter a few weeks ago completely out fo the blue. She said she missed me, and asked when I was coming back to NZ to visit, and if I could come to her birthday. Then she told me about her day and how her first year at school went. She’s 6! I can’t believe how old she’s gotten. I cried when I read the letter, it was so sweet. I wish I had the funds to go visit her and her brother, they’re definitely my favourite cousins out of the four (sorry Noah and Addi :P)

18. Oh boy, 18. Now for those who don’t know, in Australia the drinking age is 18. I went to my friends 18th party, which was a week before my 18th, and I basically celebrated my birthday as well. I got mighty drunk, and had a great time. I made some questionable decisions, but it’s ok, sometimes in life you gotta step outside your comfort zone/see what your drinking limit is before you’re giving a guy you just met a lap dance! But that night was actually lots of fun. It was a couple weeks before I moved out of mums place and traveled across the country to live with my dad. I was all kinds of stressed out, and feeling very sad to be leaving my mama. So that night was a huge relief to me. I got to just sit around with a bunch of great people while we idly drank and talked about stuff. And then I promptly peed myself which caused everyone to laugh their asses off and almost piss themselves. So yeah pretty fun and memorable night!

19. My dads fiance, Fiona, is honestly such an awesome person! They met earlier in the year, and are engaged now (they’re really in love and it’s so cute). She’s got a fat cat called Oscar and I LOVE HIM.

20. Ahh 20... 2 whole decades of life. I’ll admit, I don’t really think I have a whole lot to show for my 20 years. Lots of little things really. But I know I’ll make an impact on my life, probably next year. With dad getting married and moving in with her (she owns her house, dad rents his) I’ll definitely have to find my own place to stay. But it’s ok, it’ll all work itself out. I’ll make something of myself in the coming years. I’m not worried (ahaha I’ll keep saying that till I believe it) I’ve made it this far, and for that, I’m proud of myself.

[avengersnthings]

The Mysterious Girl (Loki Laufeyson x Reader)

Request: Hi can a request a fluffy Loki x reader fic where the reader is in a situation where she cannot talk often (maybe her voice causes glass to crack and shatter and people to fall unconscious) instead she uses actions to convey her feelings. when Loki arrives with his brother for redemption he tries to get her to talk by annoying her to no avail. They’re alone one time and the reader snaps telling him to stop; he falls unconscious and she cares for him until he comes to. Please and thank you!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 1, 988

Warnings: None (I think)

A/N: First Loki imagine, wooo! I hope you all enjoy, especially all you Loki fans out there. It was a refreshing change to write about him, so I’m glad I got the chance! If you would like to be added to my Tag List for all future updates, just let me know! FYI, (Y/E/C) means ‘your eye color.’ Enjoy!

Tag List: @mp938368 @gcneral-organa @thatgirlsar @jumperswellies @quicksoldier @kitkatgaming @marvelfandom-stuff @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @agentraven007 @marvelgoateecollection @thaniya82

MASTERLIST

Loki was not happy. Not happy at all. Why wasn’t he happy? Because he was on Midguard. And what was wrong with being on Midguard? Thor, his brother was there. And he was stuck with him.

“Brother, do not worry. I’m sure that my comrades will not hate you. That much,” Thor comforted, slapping his brother on the back.

Stumbling forward, Loki looked back at his brother and scowled. “Oh, yes. I’m sure those mortals just love me after all that I did.”

Sighing, Thor looked at his brother. “You knew not what you were doing. Besides, you are repentant.”

“Am I?” Loki sassed back, earning a disapproving look from the ‘better’ sibling.

“Well, you will be. At least once they are through with you.”

Rolling his eyes, Loki trudged along beside his brother, looking up at the building. Sure, it was impressive for Midguard standards, but not for Asgard. If that was even his home anymore.

“Welcome, to the Avengers,” Thor announced, pushing open the glass doors with ease.

This will be just great, Loki thought to himself as he followed his oaf of a brother inside.

Well, could be going a lot worse, Loki thought as his brother’s teammates glared down at him.

“Why do we have to keep him here again?” Clint asked through gritted teeth, glaring at Loki. Hand tight on his bow, he never removed his eyes from the god.

“Look, I’m not excited about reindeer games being here either,” Tony grumbled.

“But there is no other option, apparently,” Nat finished the sentence, remembering all too well what she had to do to her best friend to get him out of his head.

“He is my brother,” Thor started, looking them all down. “You will be courteous to him, even if he is deserving of your hatred and spite.”

“He destroyed New York with an alien army,” Steve said, glaring at Loki.

“And tried to take over the world,” Bruce added.

“He’s adopted,” Thor said sheepishly, to which Loki rolled his eyes. Bored, Loki began to look over his foes- allies. Most of them Loki remembered. Some, were new. Like the man with the metal arm, the red man, the girl with glowing-red eyes, and many more. As Loki skimmed over his subjects- friends, his eyes landed on one girl in particular. She was odd, but not in the bad sense. She was odd in the sense that she was quiet, odd in the sense that she distanced herself from others. Curious, Loki continued to look at her, until she noticed and began blushing prominently. Her eyes darted towards Clint, and he saw immediately.

“You stay away from her,” Clint almost growled, moving in front of the odd girl. Loki did not care though. He was intrigued by this girl and wanted to know more. Wanted to know what she liked and disliked, why she was here. One way or another, Loki was going to know that girl.

Two months have passed since Loki arrived at the Avengers compound, and things were a little better. The others were talking to him now, and Loki wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. The company was nice from time to time, when they weren’t glaring at him. Loki always brushed them off though. Some people just don’t understand that he had changed.

Mainly, for her.

Loki had tried everything to talk to the girl. Anytime that he nearly got close to even saying hello, the mother hen swooped in between them.

“No way,” Clint growled one day, standing in front of the girl once more.

“I just want to talk to her, I’m not bad anymore,” Loki had pleaded.

Laughing, Clint shook his head. “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. And good luck talking to her anyway, she-”

But before the mother hen could even finish his sentence, the girl had tapped on his shoulder. The girl had obviously communicated to the arrow man, Loki just did not understand how. She didn’t move her lips, but rather her hands. When Loki first saw this, he thought she was doing magic.

“Are you a sorceress?” Loki had asked in amazement, to which Clint glared him down, offended.

“Out.” He demanded, and Loki quickly made his way out, not wanting to find out what would happen to him if mother hen got any angrier.

So Loki’s quest to talk to the mysterious girl continued, always trying to get close to her. Over the two months that he had been there, he had learned three things about the beautiful and mysterious girl:

1) She did not like mornings. Her face scrunched up in the cutest of ways whenever she was woken up before 9 a.m.

2) Her favorite color was green, or so Loki assumed. She always wore some article of green, whether it be the oversized green sweatshirt she stole from the man with the metal arm or her green shoes, which she wore everywhere. 

3) She loved movies, more than life itself apparently. Whenever Loki was looking for her to talk to her (before mother hen showed up), she was sitting in the room with the screen, a different movie on it each time he saw her. Some days it would be little cartoons dancing and singing across the screen, others it would be miniature people falling in love. Without fail though, Loki noticed that every Friday night she watched the same movie, over and over. One with a half fish-half human hybrid and her colorful fish friends.

With each new little tidbit of information about the girl, Loki grew more and more interested. Loki not only thought about her all day, but even dreamed about being able to talk to the beautiful girl, face to face. Just when Loki was about to give up on all hope of ever speaking to the girl, a bit of luck was finally in Loki’s favor.

The heroic team was heading off on a mission, one where they needed almost every member, except for the mysterious girl. Loki, jumping at the opportunity to speak with her, helped pack everyone’s bags that night. To the team, he seemed just a bit too happy.

“Are you sure we can leave him here, Thor?” Steve had asked, glancing at Loki.

“Believe it or not, he is acting a lot better,” Thor commented as he put everyone’s luggage onto the quinjet.

“Yes, but he will be here all alone,” Tony added. The girl, apparently did not like that for she stomped her foot in defiance.

Thor had saw her little foot stomp and smiled. “He will not be alone, (Y/N) will be here.”

Aha! Her name! Loki thought, adding another piece to the puzzle.

Laughing, Clint put his supplies in the quinjet. “Yeah, if anyone can handle him, it's  (Y/N).”

This seemed to have made (Y/N) happy, for she nodded her head in triumph.

“I’ll be good,” Loki started, causing everyone to look at him. “Promise.”

“We shall see, brother,” Thor said, clapping his hand on his brother’s shoulder, causing Loki to lose his footing for a moment. “If not, well, you’ll be in for a shock. (Y/N), take care of him for me. Don’t let him get into too much mischief.”

(Y/N) smiled and nodded at Thor, waving the team goodbye.

“That’s no fair,” Loki grumbled to himself. “I’m the god of mischief. It’s literally what I do.”

As soon as the quinjet had disappeared over the horizon, (Y/N) had went back into the compound. Not wanting to lose her in the maze of halls and corridors, Loki followed right after her.

“So,” Loki started, falling into step with her. “Just you and me.”

All she did was quirk up an eyebrow at him before continuing on her way.

“Right. Silent treatment. Well, that has never stopped me before,” Loki continued as he followed her into the room with the screen. Lighting up at the opportunity, Loki walked over to the shelves full of discs.

“Shall we watch one?” Loki asked, digging through the movies. “I’ve never actually seen one of these ‘movies.’ What do you recommend?”

He was met with silence. Smile faltering a bit, because literally the girl of his dreams would not talk to him, he turned back to the shelf. Finding something somewhat familiar, Loki held out the case to her. “How about this?”

Looking back, her whole face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically, causing Loki to smile. “Okay,” Loki said, looking at the title before putting the disc into the strange contraption. “The Little Mermaid it is.”

Moving towards the couch, Loki sat down next to her. Trying to control his breathing, he constantly found himself looking at (Y/N) throughout the movie, committing every detail of her to memory. Loki did this so often that he ended up missing the movie.

“Wait, why is the fish-girl having problems with her father?” Loki asked. No answer.

“Why is the crab singing to her? Life is not better down where it’s wetter. You’re wet all the time. Plus there are sharks, nasty little creatures. Worst than bildshnipe, I hear. Or at least Thor tells me.” No answer.

“OH NO, A SHARK!” No answer.

“Don’t go near the evil squid lady. Why would you go near the evil squid lady?” No answer.

All this time, (Y/N) never answered. She did seem to be getting more and more annoyed, though.

“Wait, why does she need to kiss the Prince? To get her voice back? That is highly unlikely, magic does not work like-”

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?!” The girl shouted. A ringing noise sounded through the room, and before Loki even knew it, he was out cold.

Blinking away the black spots in his vision, Loki was met with a pounding headache. Staring up at the ceiling, Loki started to feel alarmed until he felt something moving through his hair. Looking around, Loki was soon met with the most beautiful pair of (Y/E/C) eyes he had ever seen. What made them even more beautiful was that they were your eyes.

“What happened?” Loki groaned, trying to sit up. He was soon pushed back down by (Y/N) so that his head lay on her lap. She held up a finger as if to say ‘one moment’ and grabbed the nearest notebook and pen she could find. Sprawling out her message with one hand and combing through his hair with the other, she finally had written out her message:

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you out. I’m an enhanced and my voice knocks people out, especially when I yell. I didn’t mean to make you pass out.’

Reading the message, Loki began to smile. “It’s alright, Love. You didn’t mean to. I’m just glad that we are finally communicating.”

Blushing at his words, she began to write out another message.

'I get that, now. I mean, who talks during a movie?’

It was Loki’s turn to blush now as he read your note. “Sorry, I am not familiar with proper movie etiquette. But I’d love to learn.”

Smiling, she wrote down her next message.

'I’d love to teach you, if you gave me a chance. Then you can ask all the questions you want, whether about me or the movie.’

“Sounds absolutely, perfect, Love,” Loki said with a smile. The pounding in his head had finally stopped, and Loki was able to sit up now, but he didn’t want to leave her gentle caresses just yet.

'Can you sit back up yet?’ She wrote out, quirking another eyebrow up at him.

“No,” Loki lied. “Not yet. Still hurts.” She nodded at his answer and continued to card her fingers through his black hair, leaving Loki in a bliss. Well, he was the god of mischief, after all. What else was he going to do, except lie a little to stay with the girl of his dreams?