#you can make a lot of students do really poorly on those by simply being vague in your wording

[lesbiten]

i finished my homework!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i have a test tomorrow i spent all of 10 minutes studying for)

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Something I really appreciate about your writing is that you make the kids feel like actual teenagers. I have to ask, how do you get the characterization down when your writing? It's something I struggle to do, even when I go back to the original source.

Going back to the original source is a good start. Characterization goes deeper than simply ‘this character is nice’ or ‘this character is funny.’ Let’s look at Izuku for example. He’s kind and smart, but so are several other students. Something specific to him is that he doesn’t have much of a sense of humor; he doesn’t tell any jokes and rarely laughs at those made by others. Compare this to someone like Uraraka, who occasionally makes teasing comments about her friends, versus Sero or Mina who make jokes at the expense of their classmates pretty often. Back to Izuku, this fact about him contributes to a general sense of his social awkwardness, which my writing interprets in a few additional ways. I feel like his lack of humor and awkwardness would extend to trouble with nicknames, giving or receiving, further evidenced by his struggling in canon to call Tsuyu by the nicknames she wants to be called by. Kacchan on the other hand is out of habit, which combined with his issues visualizing One for All as a part of himself early on indicates he has a hard time breaking habits once he’s set on them. Even the fact that it took him so long to realize that he could adopt a kicking fight style is more evidence of this. And then a reoccurring feature in my fics is that Izuku isn’t a touchy-freely person. There’s not much evidence in canon for this, except that despite him and his Mom being close, they don’t touch often. This might not actually be the case, but that’s part of where my idea came from, and it fits back into that awkwardness. Little things like that can say a lot about a character and how they approach different situations.

As for writing teenagers in general, a common mistake i see in both fic and original content is the assumption that all you need to write believable teenagers is to throw in a bunch of modern slang and references. Think Riverdale, bad crack fics, and 90s anti-drug PSAs. Not only is this often handled poorly (incorrect slang use or misjudged references) it also quickly dates the writing. Memes can take years to reach big names in the entertainment industry, and then it takes another few years for a movie featuring those memes to come out. By then, the meme is dead and cringe. In this day and age, memes can have a much shorter shelf life, living and dying within a week. Even if you release an fic chapter during the peak of a meme’s life cycle, it’s only going to be funny to the people who read it then and there; everyone who jumps on the fic later will just cringe. And there’s no way to tell which ones with have the staying power of something like a rickroll or a classic vine.

The solution: don’t do this. Avoid overusing slang and meme speak, and instead implement more general/timeless dialogue. Slang like ‘dude’ has been in the lexicon long enough that it feels normal, and while ‘mood’ and ‘vibe’ are fairly new, they aren’t as obtrusive as ‘bae’ which is falling out of style, or ‘boomer’ which references a specific group of people. Basically, the more general and common, the better. And keep the time period of your story in mind; MHA for example takes place at least a century in the future, why would the kids of that era still be complaining about boomers? Teenagers still act immaturely sometimes and make jokes, but try and find the humor in the specific situation of the story rather than quoting something else. Teens are also more openly casual than adults. Teasing, touching, maybe saying something rude or inappropriate. One simple way to convey casual speech is to use more contractions; i.e. ‘can’t’ instead of ‘cannot’ or ‘we’re gonna’ instead of ‘we are going to.’ This is my advice for all dialogue: read it to yourself outloud and ask if it sounds like something a real person would actually say. Exaggeration is also good. ‘My life is over!’ when their crush doesn’t like them back, or a big group groan at a pop quiz.

As for the internal experience of being a teenager, the thing i remember most about being that age in the tension between suddenly being expected to be ready for things and take care of myself when i didn’t feel ready, but still being treated like a dumb child in other ways i thought i was ready for. You start understanding more things when you get older and want people to take you seriously as a result, but you’re also insecure about the things you don’t understand and maybe overcompensate. In short, being a teenager comes with a lot of confusing, frustrating changes, some of which are absolutely unfair, but there are a few you genuinely bring upon yourself.

Hope this helps you get started. If not, or you have other questions, the ask box is always open.

[ikemenomegas]

Any thoughts to shake loose on any of your Naruto guys, Io? I like your mun-name!! 💕

From the notebook

Loose leaf ideas:

I'm so sorry, I have no idea what a mun-name is but thank you anyways 😅. Also sorry it's taken so long, I was trying to do the Make a Wish prompts, which I've finally gotten mostly bullet pointed out. Lucky thing because I all but finished one of the last two and then lost it due to my own stupidity... so I've been sadly trying to rewrite it /sigh. I decided to finally shake free those ideas in the mean time, since I haven't posted any writing in a while

Yamato (Tenzo, but this name is for private use)

Because he was raised in Root, he mostly emotes via micro expressions so his Alpha has learned to be really good at reading those looks. His Alpha can literally stare at his face for hours while they talk. Yamato stares right back. Please ask for a booth if you go to a restaurant with him. Everyone thinks you're making bedroom eyes at each other when you're figuring out your next week's meal prep. Actual bedroom eyes are near lethal levels.

He's a pretty tall guy so when you first started spending time at his place, all the cups and plates and things are also really high up. He barely used any of his lower cupboards. When you first move in together, he asks you where all of your stuff is and you think he's joking until you realize he genuinely doesn't check any of those cabinets or drawers that he doesn't use...

All of his furniture is handmade, as in through the wood style. It's all very functional, lots of squares, but elegant. If want different shapes he's really willing and eager to learn how intricate he can get with his jutsu. He's got a remarkably artistic streak, despite his serious demeanor. You'll never have to buy a new bookshelf again, he'll just make them.

Yamato likes quality time and gifts as his receiving love languages. He works really hard for the village and having someone focused on him and appreciative of his hard work and attentive to his needs is key to being a good partner for him

You can't go wrong if you show your appreciation by making him things that he likes, ie a craft, homemade item, or really involved food. He's also not opposed to an evening of pampering where he has your full undivided attention after a day spent sight seeing.

Gaara

He doesn't make the first move in a relationship, which leaves him in a fun lil' stalemate for a while with his eventual mate, because you can't make moves on the Kazekage and he's thinking "I'm the Kazekage, it would be an unfair power dynamic to tell them I think about them every time I write poetry lately..." On a trip back to Suna, Temari takes one look at him and you and then scolds Kankuro because "I can't be the one to manage both kinds of diplomatic relations. Please do something to make my life a little easier." Kankuro then attempts to organize scenarios for you and Gaara to meet. These go poorly in the way of all comedic anime interludes but do result in the two of you bonding more closely.

Gaara was raised to be the leader of a military nation, but he winds down by engaging in more traditional artistic pursuits. All three of the siblings actually have a talent in at least one area of the more refined arts. Gaara is very accomplished at calligraphy, and I'm not kidding about the poetry, he really does compose different works and a lot of them are very good. He even worked hard at some point during his courtship to create a public stone garden in the village which he sometimes alters during festivals so it has different designs.

He is very responsible when it comes to Kazekage duties. He's also been performing them since before he turned 15, and has almost no penchant for mischief. However, he can be easily coaxed away from his office in the name of training his children/students, where he can be further tricked into simply enjoying himself. He's actually a really patient, insightful teacher.

He has an unfortunate habit, only slightly curbed by age, of being willing to drag everyone into a goal he decides is worthwhile. While he mostly used credible threats to get what he wanted as a child, he's since become very adept at manipulation. Mostly, he's genuine and persistent, but he also knows how to get other people to want to follow him. This includes knowing the exact Look to give his mate whenever he wants something.

I think you could easily write him as demiromantic/aromantic. He isn't romantically attracted to anyone right away, and if he does develop those feelings they aren't all-consuming, but there are certain people he can see himself partnering with for the rest of his life, and certain triggers for kicking those feelings off with his alpha.

Nagato

The more I research him, the more it is clear his canon outcome is the bad-end version of the shonen trio trope. Yahiko and Konan were in love with one another, and Nagato was the one who loved them both enough to follow them to the ends of the earth. Nothing in any world was ever going to deter him from that, so his Alpha needs to be pointed in the same direction, ideally devoted to Yahiko and his original Akatsuki as well.

Nagato is the one who guides his Alpha in believing in the ideals of Akatsuki. Before the original trio falls apart, this is done without any ultimatum or ulterior motive. Nagato genuinely believes in the dream Yahiko has, and felt very motivated to bring that hope to his Alpha. It was only afterwards that he truly started to fall in love with them, although that was the original spark.

He likes to read, although he seldom has the time or opportunity to do so. Jiraiya's taught all of the Ame orphans to read and write. He truly enjoys ready philosophical treatises and dialogues. He is a fan of fiction but very slow when reading these because he prefers to experience the world himself first hand, interacting with people and places. He once dreamed of traveling throughout Amegakure and the surrounding nations as a kind of pilgrim.

Nagato nearly died after he fought Hanzo for the first time, not because of his injuries, but because chakra depletion left him unable to sense his Alpha. Believing them dead while he was near delirious, he himself nearly died from the grief of losing Yahiko, and them on top of this loss, despite Yahiko's final wish.

In a version of the world where his Alpha does not survive Obito's slaughter of the original Akatsuki members, Nagato recovers their body and turns it into the Preta Path of Pain, appropriate given the path's callback to possessiveness and desire, and representation of the Hungry Ghost Realm. In the version where his Alpha survives, Nagato becomes very possessive over them, only willing to let them take missions for the Akatsuki alongside Konan, alone, or preferably not at all as you three nurse your grief within Amegakure.

Shisui

You know I love those Uchiha men. They just have a vibe... Shisui in particular. His appearances never make me think first of his death, but of his kindness and his protectiveness over the people he cares for; he dies smiling. Unfortunately, Shisui's path really only works in a non-massacre scenario, since he is approximately sixteen when he dies, which is too young for him to have a mating bond, although I do HC him as considering courting someone at the time the coup starts to take over his life. The with-massacre scenario is one in which Itachi is able to get Shisui out of the village, possibly that he secretly survives the fall thanks to his summons.

Shisui's parents were either not ninjas, or are individuals who have had to retire for the corp for some reason. What we know about him says he was the family breadwinner after he was made a jounin, which leads me to lean towards non-ninja parents. This is particularly interesting for Uchiha clan members, since we don't get to see what the civilian members of clan families do in the Naruto world and most assume the Uchiha clan is shinobi-dominated. It's doubly intriguing when we also know the famous Kagami Uchiha was his ancestor (likely grandfather > great grandfather if we base off other known generations). Since we don't have canon confirmation of this stuff, I guess it counts as a HC?

Given the above, he's the most likely of the Uchiha on my list to willingly and happily take on a civilian Alpha. While I haven't totally fleshed out the background for this pairing, I have toyed around with the idea of an acid-tongued relative of someone from the Daimyo's court whom Shisui met on a mission catching his attention. This oc is a bit of a tsundere with an infamous temper who only Shisui with his notable empathetic and pleasant demeanor is immune to. They become one of the Land of Fire ambassadors and Shisui travels with them on a sort of long-term assignment before they eventually settle together in the village.

The reason they settle in the village is that Shisui decides he wants to have kids and knows that the Uchiha will never risk the sharingan passing into the control of another family or political body. His alpha has to sign a bunch of paperwork relinquishing their ability to inherit anything that might give their family power over their and Shisui's children, but enjoys arguing enough that they remain an ambassador even after settling in Konoha so they can wipe the floor with anyone who has anything to say about Shisui being the reason for their departure.

In the survive-the-fall scenario, Shisui remains blind, retires from being a ninja, and lives with his Alpha in a civilian city, where they help hide his identity and spoil him as much as he will allow. There's potential in this scenario for a path which probably fixes Sasuke btw. There's a lot of options here.

Sai

He intentionally emotes more than Yamato, however while Yamato mostly keeps his facial expressions hidden, his reactions to his Alpha are almost always honest. Sai explicitly cultivates his ability to make facial expressions because he was trying to fit in with normal people, throw them off guard, and do his job as a spy better. This makes it more difficult for his Alpha to tell whether Sai is actually showing that he likes something or not. It takes a long time to figure it out. Eventually, his reactions naturally start to correspond with his emotions around family and friends so it's easier on everyone.

His Alpha thinks that Sai really doesn't like them at the beginning. Although he doesn't necessarily understand why, he picks up on this very quickly and tries to fix the situation throughout the next few months, to varying degrees of success. Eventually, he decides to show you how he feels by painting a portrait of you as he sees you. It's exactly as intimate as you'd think it would be. For better or worse, Sai eventually has to come out and say he can't come up with any courting gift more genuine than the portrait to show you how he feels about you personally, which will tip his Alpha off that he is interested in them.

Because he has difficulties showing his emotions, and also in understanding the nuances behind others' reactions, he likes straightforward methods of communication. He trusts his Alpha implicitly and is incredibly perceptive so he is able to read their responses to him. He enjoys words of affirmation the most and appreciates when his Alpha takes the time to talk through things with him. He also likes physical contact, craves it even, but can quickly become overstimulated depending on the situation. He genuinely wants people to like him and to have sincere connections with the people he meets by acting like himself. Although Sai works hard to "earn" his place among the other people in his generation, it takes him a long time to see that everyone has already accepted him, and to understand that relationships take time and hard work.

For many years, he believes he physically can't have children because Root made all of its operatives starting about 5 years before Sai joined infertile. This insights conflicting feelings in him. On the one hand he never has to worry about accidentally becoming pregnant, which is very nice when he starts navigating his physical desires with his mate. On the other hand, he will never have the option and that hurts, because so much was taken from him in the way of choice and this is another one of those things. The procedure may be reversible in some members because I can see Root forcing long-term operatives to have families with their targets to get closer to them, or being gross enough to try and breed operatives, but Sai doesn't know this.

He likes swimming. He has a favorite swimming spot on the Konoha river. It's the kind of activity that sincerely has no purpose, and he finds a serenity in it, in a similar way that lots of people find a zone of focus when running.

[lucysweatslove]

Had a wonderful weekend! My best friend drove down and we spent Saturday and Sunday morning together. I got two new squishmallows, we got Korean food, she dyed my hair for me, and we did two puzzles together (including a 1000pc Harley Quin that we barely finished in time before she had to leave). After she left I got my Covid shot and then went to a concert with Husband.

Today I had my 4th block exam, got another A, yay. I love when I do well while maintaining a good balance of home/friend life.

I know I ranted about this a little last week, but I don’t really like it when the lecturers or block leads tell us how well we did on the exam as a whole compared to other cohorts. We’ll hear that for raw scores, the school-wide the average was an 82% and that we were the highest average cohort at an 86%- and that always prompts celebration for being the best. I’ve already discussed why this irks me… but today it particularly irks me.

First I’m annoyed by this: my classmates seemed disappointed about the test and felt it was harder with weird or confusing wording, and the discussion of how well we did was offered as a consolation, like “yes, it was a hard test, but at least you did better than the rest of the school.” I’m a staunch believer that emotions deserve to be felt and understood even if based on cognitive distortions, and that we need to do the feeling and understanding before we can address the distortion. I won’t ever tell somebody they are wrong to be disappointed when they didn’t do as well s they are used to. But I feel like the issue here is that there is an expectation that our class average be around an A, and instead of addressing the issue of high performance expectations overall stemming from hyper competitiveness, the consolation is still “you did better than other classes” which makes it into a competition.

“It’s okay this test was hard, you still crushed the competition.” Except it’s not a competition, and 86% is still a firm pass in the coursework. Why not just say “this test was designed to be a little harder to show you more of where your own knowledge or understanding deficits are. We don’t expect an A average- it’s another learning opportunity. I am still so proud of how hard you have worked and the knowledge you have gained this week.”

Another reason this bothers me: 1.5 questions isn’t a lot, but when it’s framed as 82 vs 86%, it feels like a lot. Tests are usually made harder to increase discriminatory power for high-performers by removing discriminatory power for low-performers, often done by increasing the ��order” of the question (think applying knowledge or synthesizing multiple knowledge points together vs simply regurgitating info). When you get to those kinds of tests, what does a difference in 1.5 questions correct on average really mean? It could mean our students are more well-rested or well-nourished, or that they studied an additional 2 hours, or we just so happened to have hammered in one niche knowledge point that showed up on the test, or that we all speak English as our first language, or that we have one less “low performer” and one more “high performer” than another cohort… etc etc.

It also irks me because I know that scores vary pretty wildly within a cohort. A person eking by with a 71% might feel really shitty after hearing about the test even though they may have done “poorly” because they were sick the prior week or got a migraine before the test and couldn’t move it. Or maybe they were feeling emotionally down and needed to prioritize their mental wellness. Or whatever it is. Everybody responds to pressure differently, but I honestly don’t know a single person who truly responds better to harsh criticism and guilt vs constructive criticism given with empathy, understanding, and encouragement. If we truly want to support the “below average” students- of which, many are by definition (this depends on type of average taken and std deviation and such)- then we need to understand that the competitiveness probably isn’t helping as much as another approach could.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Feeling under the weather today. I started getting sick in the middle of the week. I slept a lot yesterday and hope to have a quiet weekend.

I hope you enjoy the links.

Paul Lefebvre

Just a few days ago, BASIC turned 60! On May 1, 1964 BASIC was created by Dartmouth College professors John G. Kemeny and Thomas E. Kurtz.

I really love BASIC. It was the first programming language I learned and used professionally. It was all MS-DOS based at the time and the language had changed over time to include functions and custom data types. It was a really great language.

I owe my career to Microsoft BASIC Professional Development System. ❤️

Joseph Heck

Designing a Swift library with data-race safety

Swift concurrency changes are going to be a lot of fun and take some effort to restructure existing code to make use of it.

And by fun I mean a lot hair pulling, teeth gnashing and head banging on the desk.

Jeremy Mathai • /Film

Marvel couldn’t have made a better choice if it had the Time Stone itself. Back when a “Doctor Strange” movie was far from a guaranteed hit, Scott Derrickson and Kevin Feige knew they simply couldn’t afford to get the casting wrong.

Can you imagine anyone other than Benedict Cumberbatch playing Dr. Strange? I can’t.

And to think Joaquin Phoenix was on their radar sounds strange to me. To be clear Joaquin Phoenix is an amazing actor and can play anything but after seeing Benedict Cumberbatch playing him I can’t imagine anyone else doing it.

Anton Zaides

I always knew that distractions in the workplace are harmful, but only after reading Deep Work by Cal Newport, did I understand how severe the problem is!

This is why I prefer an office to open office spaces. I don’t know how anyone thrives in an open space. Add multiple meetings a day to the mix and you’re not getting much done.

Since the pandemic I’ve been working from home and it’s wonderful. I can control my entire workspace. 🖥️

K. Denise Rucker Krepp • CNN

In some military circles and among many who consider themselves aficionados of Confederate history. The Ruckers have a history of military service going back generations. They’ve also had deep roots in America’s shameful Confederate past. That includes my distant cousin, Col. Edmund Rucker.

It’s really nice to see the Confedercy being dismantled. Now, if we could get rid of the white supremacists and bigots that would be amazing. One step at a time, I suppose.

Collin Woodard • Jalopnik

Tesla laid off at least 10 percent of its workforce earlier this month, and in typical Tesla fashion, the Texas-based automaker made sure the layoffs were done in an organized fashion with plenty of communication and a clearly defined strategy. Just kidding. The layoffs were so poorly executed that security was forced to scan employees’ badges at the door to figure out who had been laid off. And, apparently, that included a guy who had taken to sleeping in his car and showering at the factory so he could work longer hours.

Musk is such a nice, standup, fella, isn’t he? 🤬

Nothing sticks to this guy. I guess that’s what happens when you’re a narcissistic sociopath.

Richard Speed • The Register

Google’s latest round of layoffs have hit engineers working on its Flutter and Python teams.

And… more layoffs. Tech has had a rough couple years.

Howard Oakley

In my quest to implement a full app written for SwiftUI on macOS, my next tasks concern the app’s Settings, how to set those as User Defaults, how to implement some of their more common controls, and how to customise the About window. In these, SwiftUI starts to come into its own, in comparison with AppKit, although it does have a couple of surprising shortcomings.

I love it when folks share their code and experience! I’m not brave enough to do that! Thanks for the code! 👨🏽‍💻

David Merritt Johns • The Atlantic

Back in 2018, a Harvard doctoral student named Andres Ardisson Korat was presenting his research on the relationship between dairy foods and chronic disease to his thesis committee. One of his studies had led him to an unusual conclusion: Among diabetics, eating half a cup of ice cream a day was associated with a lower risk of heart problems.

This is weird to read. Ice Cream for diabetics? I mean, anything for ice cream. Amirite? 🍦

Chance Miller, Ben Lovejoy, and Filipe Espósito • 9to5Mac

A little over a year ago, General Motors made what may well turn out to be one of its biggest gambles in many years: dropping support for CarPlay for all future EVs.

The author thinks this was a mistake. I don’t.

I’m hoping this will turn out well for GM. Just don’t serve up a bunch of ads for new features and other products.

Brian Ramian • Los Angeles Times

Opinion: I once lived in my car and can’t fathom criminalizing homelessness

When I worked at LEVEL Studios in 2010 I had trouble finding a place I could stay fairly cheaply after my sub-lease ran out. I lived in my car for a week. It wasn’t horrible, but its wasn’t ideal.

[enrichedacademy]

Financial Education for Young Adults

As adults, most of us have learned a few harsh lessons from poorly managing our money and know very well how our financial situation impacts our overall happiness and well-being. As parents, we do our best to teach our kids about money and avoid those harsh lessons, but there are plenty of life lessons to teach and personal finance doesn't always make it on our list.

Teaching financial literacy in schools has become more widespread and post-secondary institutions may also offer financial literacy programs for students. But which financial lessons, habits, and tactics should parents try to instill at home on our teenagers, especially if our own money management knowledge and skills may be lacking?

Wants vs needs & cost vs value

Regardless of age, everyone needs to clearly differentiate between wants and needs and prioritize what we spend our money on. For young adults in particular, value and cost are two more important concepts they need to understand. The latest model iPhone or a carbon fiber mountain bike will really impress their friends, but a cheaper version may perform very similarly and provide a lot more value, especially if they are strapped for funds.

Young people face a daily avalanche of marketing messages, and they need to learn to look through the hype and make objective, well-thought-out financial decisions. Plenty of very wealthy people (even billionaires like Warren Buffett) drive some pretty basic cars for a very good reason – it’s all they really need. If your kids have their eye on the newest must-have item, ask them them to explain the value other than being trendy or fashionable. For big-ticket items, make informed decision-making part of your kids’ financial wellness plan — have them to do some research and check out product reviews as well as shop around for the best price.

Introduce basic investing concepts

Financial literacy for teenagers should definitely include basic investing concepts and how to make money with money. Explain the power of compound interest and how investments can grow over time. Buying stocks or other investment products for your teenager is a great way to learn firsthand. There are plenty of teens with parents who took the time to explain stocks and shareholding at a level their kids can understand.

Kids are fans of many large, publicly traded companies. Holding a few shares (in an informal trust account or simply in your name) of Disney, Roblox or McDonalds may not return enough to pay for university, but it will teach them about the risk and return of equities and get them started with the basics of investing.

It’s true that a savings mindset developed early will pay back steadily over the course of a lifetime. However, developing an investing mindset from an early age will pay back HUGE over the course of a lifetime and set your kids up for long-term financial security and wealth building. Opening a tax-free savings account (TFSA) at age 18 is an excellent idea. Even if they can only scrape together $50 or $100 to deposit each month, if they invest it and let it compound until they retire, they are going to have a pretty nice retirement bonus!

Teach the bad (and good) about credit and debt Credit is very easy to access these days and first-year post-secondary students are often able to get a credit card. Responsible use of this first credit card can help establish a credit score and they are very convenient — almost a necessity for some online transactions. On the other hand, easy access to credit cards (with generous spending limits and 20% interest!) and a few spontaneous or poorly thought-out spending decisions can derail a future before it even gets started.

Student loans can also lead to big surprises post-graduation when you realize the amount of the monthly payment or apply for an auto loan or mortgage in the future. Although federally issued Canada Student Loans are now interest free, provincial student loans may still carry interest. Regardless of the interest, your children must be very aware that a student loan isn’t free money and paying it back isn't an option..... it will definitely cause some hardship and tough choices in their post-graduation lifestyle.

Remember that financial education for students is an ongoing process. Encourage openness about money and create an environment where your children feel comfortable discussing money matters with you. Instilling responsible money habits from a young age and being a supportive resource as they build their financial literacy will help your money-savvy kids grow into financially savvy adults.

[wuxianxkexing]

Mu Qing is a great example of a sociological self fulfilling prophecy. For those that don't know its a term that describes how someone's expectations about a person can cause them to act in ways that confirms those expectations. There are two types, self imposed and other imposed. Mu Qing (like everyone) is swayed by other imposed prophecies, both in a good way and a bad way. Others are always accusing him of being a bad person simply because of the conditions of his birth (lower class and the son of a criminal). In the worst case scenario of an other imposed prophecy this can cause people to subconsciously confirm those negative expectations. So in Mu Qing's case he could've very easily ended up being a criminal like his father just because everyone already believed that he would be (please note that you shouldn't judge people in real life just because of who their parents are, their class, etc... You would think that in the modern world people would know better than to judge others just because of the circumstances of their birth but studies show this to not be true). In the real world this also commonly occurs in school settings where teachers expect students to perform poorly because of their class or race or gender or whatever and because they other imposed this prophecy onto their students it tends to come true (though not always). We know that no one besides Xie Lian liked Mu Qing when he was learning cultivation, including the teachers who made it pretty clear that they did not like him. This could've very easily lead to Mu Qing failing because of other imposed prophecies. While Mu Qing was able to prove wrong a lot of the negative other imposed prophecies set on him he did unfortunately succumb to some of them, such as being overly defensive and bitchy and hard to get along with (but if everyone already thinks you are a terrible person it's going to take a lot of effort, cheek turning and what Mu Qing would probably consider ass kissing to convince them otherwise, which he is way too prideful, or perhaps too dejected, to do. In this way he is succumbing to the negative other imposed prophecies set on him, people don't like him, he knows that so he acts like he doesn't like them back and the cycle continues and amplifies. Again I urge others to get to know someone before you make a decision on them, others may be right or wrong about them but you won't know for sure unless you give them an honest chance. If others hadn't been so judgmental of Mu Qing in the beginning perhaps he wouldn't have been friendless for 800 years.)

On the other hand other imposed prophecies can be good, but /only/ if they are good in nature. We subconsciously tend to act in ways that confirms whatever beliefs others hold of us. So if a teacher believes that a student will perform well they are way more likely to (and this is seen in the real world where teachers tend to believe that high and middle class students will perform better but because in this case it's a positive other imposed prophecy it isn't a bad thing for those particular students). In Mu Qing's case his name "Qing" literally means affection, and with the cultural tendency to really value first born sons and his dedication to his mother its safe to say that she loved him a lot! She probably had really positive other imposed prophecies for Mu Qing and as his mother her opinion and moral support would've mattered more than others (which is why having supportive, loving parents is so important in life. If not even your parents believe in you then it is way easier to succumb to negative other imposed prophecies.) I believe that her love is what prevented Mu Qing from becoming a complete shit head. He is a caring, loving and noble man, being literally the only God in the Heaven's that couldn't be blackmailed because he literally never did anything wrong (or at least never anything that bad). Yes, self imposed prophecies are a thing and having faith in yourself is always a good thing! But as Uncle Iroh once said "While it is always great to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing."

Back to the original message of the reblogged post. After Mu Qing's mom died he pretty much had to rely on himself, and he deserves a lot of credit for that! His mom did a very good job raising him but the credit is not all hers, because after 800 years of him being his only supporter it would've been very easy for him to become all of the bad things that everyone thought he was but he didn't! She set the foundation but he was the one who built and maintained the house, so to speak. Again self fulfilling prophecies are subconscious, so we usually don't know that they are happening. Mu Qing's faith in himself is what prevented him from becoming all of the bad things that everyone thought he was.

Ideally your parents should set your foundation for you, but if they don't you can set it for yourself and still build a house just as good as anyone else. A good example would be Wei Wuxian from The Untamed, he was too young to be strongly influenced by his birth parents and his adoptive parents were so dysfunctional I doubt they did very little positive foundation building judging by how fucked up in their own ways all of the Yunmeng siblings were/are. Yet Wei Wuxian still turned out to be a pretty good guy, arguably the most noble character in the series. Even Jiang Cheng turned out a whole lot better than he could have. Neither of his parents had much faith in him as an heir yet he rebuilt the entire sect from the ground up and despite not being in The Brotherhood (that all of the other remaining top sects were in) his sect was still one of the most powerful and no one wanted to offend him. This doesn't have shit to do with Mu Qing but I include this just so everyone knows that self imposed prophecies are /just/ as important. Having others believe in you certainly makes things a lot easier but if you believe in yourself then you know who you are even if the rest of the world doesn’t, and at that point does it even matter if the rest of the world knows? Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang both proved the world wrong, but it takes believing in yourself even if no one else does, even if no one else ever did. Back to Mu Qing, he proved the Heaven's wrong thrice! 3 times! When he selflessly saved Feng Xin, when he refused to betray his former friends (special emphasis on former because they hadn't officially made up yet, it reminds me of Naruto telling Sasuke that he will always be his friend even if Sasuke doesn't consider them friends anymore) and again when he threw himself into lava.

But long story short people will tend to show you what you want to see, so it's best to have positive expectations rather than negative ones. People can and will prove you wrong, for better or for worse, but self fulfilling prophecies are subconscious. We often don't realize what is happening both as the giver or the recipient. Maybe this information will help you better understand yourself and others! Thanks for reading another one of my unhinged insights, more will come soon I'm sure. Lmao

Something about Xie Lian´s whole story being about it just taking one person believing in you, being kind to you and just being there to reassure you. And Hua Cheng being exactly that, even, if hidden in the shadows.

Something about Mu Qing never truly being believed by higher ups and friends alike, always being second guessed and constantly being accused of having evil intentions no matter how kind his actions are. And never having anyone (but his mother and maybe the children that both don’t really count) believe in him, and thus having to believe in himself, even if he is his own sole believer.

It genuinely just takes one person. Even if if it´s you. Especially if it´s you.

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[btsmosphere]

Lost in a Book | JHS

~summary: you and Jung Hoseok don’t exactly see eye to eye. but when you (literally) fall headfirst into a whole other world, that becomes the least of your worries ~pairing: hoseok x reader ~word count: 8.5k ~enemies to lovers, college au, fantasy au ~rating: g ~warnings: naughty freudian slip, sexual tension, arguing, fire

~a/n: this is my gift for the wonderful @moccahobi‘s birthday! I am so lucky to be friends with someone as funny, hard working and gorgeous as you and I hope you have a great day!! and no, of course I didn’t choose the biggest bingo square only to forget and write this in a week.. (okay, I did, so pls go easy on any errors!) as always the lovely admins at @thebtswritersclub came up with a fun challenge to prompt this story, so I will be including my makeup palette bingo square at the end so you can see what prompts I used for this! enjoy x

The moment you had seen Jung Hoseok coming through the door, your eyes rolled.

Almost entirely made of large windows, the front of the coffee shop you worked in allowed you to see all the passers-by. So when you spotted your classmate coming down the street, laughing loudly with a couple of friends, you had prayed that he would just pass by.

Of course, you could never get what you wished for.

“Yoongi-“ you tried in vain to capture your friend’s attention, but too late. Yoongi hadn’t even looked around from where he was scrubbing coffee cups when a familiar voice reached your ears, making you groan internally.

“Y/N! Hard day at work? You look frazzled.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you drawled, resigning yourself to serving him.

He simply leaned on the counter, sagging with laughter.

“Always service with a smile with you, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure you’d be just as tired if you even tried to focus in class,” you fired back.

His grin didn’t even falter. But at last, he dropped his teasing. With a scoff he ordered a tea and turned around, scrolling on his phone with his back to you as you got to work.

It seemed you had grabbed Yoongi’s attention after all, judging by the poorly-hidden snort from the washing up area.

Scowling, you chucked together a cup of tea distractedly, only too relieved when you pushed it over the counter to be rid of Hoseok. So when he sipped it only to wince in disgust, your heart sank.

“Jesus, where’s the caffeine? This is so weak.”

Your desire to argue back lost its short-lived wrestle with your customer service training, and you were reluctantly offering to make a new one. This time, you forced yourself to pay more attention. You knew that way, you could actually get rid of the nuisance on the other side of the counter.

“You see Y/N, the bag goes in the water,” Hoseok remarked, leaning over to see what you were doing.

Shooting the most passionate glare you could muster had the undesirable effect of sending him into peals of laughter.

Eventually, after making a point to leave the teabag in for much longer – at least until you noticed his fingers begin to tap on the countertop – you passed over his second cup with a sarcastic smile. His mood didn’t seem to have dampened that much, but he left without a fuss.

“You have great chemistry.”

The dry remark from behind you had you whirling around to glare at Yoongi instead. He stood in front of his stack of clean washing, observing you with a smirk.

“I don’t think Jung Hoseok knows what chemistry is,” you grumbled.

But as you set to work, a little aggressively, on scrubbing the counter, you never would have guessed how right you were. Or that it would soon become your responsibility.

“So when we sleep, what part of the brain transfers memory from white to grey matter?”

“…what’s grey matter again?”

“I think you could do with some more of it,” you muttered in lieu of an answer.

Hoseok lifted his head from his arms just enough to fix you with reproachful puppy eyes. Sighing, you tugged the textbook back across the table towards you, flipping a few pages back and jabbing your finger at the relevant passage.

Raising an eyebrow, he read it for the second time today with a growing frown.

“Long term…” he said at length.

“Long term memory!” you groaned, dropping your forehead against the heel of your hands.

Behind you, you knew Jungkook and Yoongi were watching this unfold with amusement. You weren’t sure you could take much more of this.

If you had envisaged this when you had signed up for your college’s mentor program, well, you may have changed your mind.

At last, the hour dragged by. Apparently Hoseok wanted to be there as little as you, collecting the books and leaving very quickly once you were done. Though your shift was over, you were sure you might explode if you didn’t get to rant about the guy right now.

Huffing, you marched over to the counter.

“He’s such a jerk!” you threw your hands out, “his ego’s so big, it’s like he thinks he’s too good to even try! And now it’s up to me to make sure he isn’t so behind, but there is so much to do!”

Your coworkers weren’t helping. Both had given up suppressing their laughter, openly enjoying your pain.

“You guys are no help,” you grumbled, folding your arms.

“Just be patient,” Jungkook offered, “it might get better in time.”

“Patience is not something Jung Hoseok inspires,” you retorted, “and I’m being good enough as it is! I even had the generosity to lend him my textbook!”

“You’re a saint,” Yoongi chuckled.

A withering glare later, you slung your bag over your shoulder and bid your friends a tired goodbye.

Much as you hated to admit it, there may have been some truth in what Jungkook told you. Patience did seem to be the key after all. A lot of patience.

A few more meetings had passed, and Hoseok remembered a lot more now. You weren’t sure whether it was due to the quality of your teaching or just a desire to avoid your constant scolding, but it didn’t matter too much. The result was what counted.

You were to meet again today. As always, he came as your shift finished so that you could work in the café.

“You like him really.”

Jungkook’s voice tore your eyes away from the clock you had been watching.

“I’m sorry?”

“You like him,” he repeated, “I’ve never seen you so impatient to get off work.”

“What? I’m not,” you scoffed, “it’s just-“

The little jingling bell above the door interrupted you. Never finishing your thought, you left Jungkook to meet Hoseok at the counter.

“Tea?” you asked him.

“Not if you’re making it,” he quipped, eyes already skimming the menu on the wall behind you.

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, but said no more. Hoseok’s teasing eyes returned to you as he said,

“Think you can manage a hot chocolate?”

“Of course I can make hot cock-“ your eyes widened at your momentary slip “-chocolate. I can make hot chocolate-“

But for all your correcting and muttering, there was no hiding your embarrassing moment from Hoseok, whose eyes lit up with surprise before laughter spilled out of him in reams.

“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered, Y/N!” he cackled.

Biting your tongue, you hid your burning face from him as he half-collapsed against the counter with the force of his laughter. You angrily set to work on the drink, milk sloshing in the jug as you thrust it under the machine.

“With whipped scream on top too, huh?”

Hoseok’s incessant mocking didn’t stop until you had handed him the drink. If anything could prove to Jungkook just how wrong he was, this should do it. Still, you didn’t dare to turn around and see what your friend made of the situation.

Mixing the powder into the hot milk forcefully, you glared down at the cup.

Damn Jung Hoseok! He couldn’t be any more infuriating if he tried. It wasn’t your fault he was so annoying it made it hard for you to think straight. No one else managed to rile you up so much as him.

You gave him the drink with a side of deathly glare. It only served to amuse him more.

Safe to say you were dreading the next hour.

Clocking off soon after, you hung up your apron regretfully and headed across to your usual table. Thankfully Hoseok was a bit more subdued now.

Unfortunately, you were about to find out why.

“So, Y/N,” he started as you were sitting down.

This brought your attention to him straight away. Your eyes narrowed as he toyed with his mug on the table, avoiding your eyes.

“So, uh, that textbook you lent me-“

You had a bad feeling already. Looking around, you didn’t notice it on the usual pile of books.

“Where is it?” you cut him off.

At last he raised his head to meet your eyes, and you didn’t like what you saw.

“It’s not like we need it that badly anyway,” he began, though you weren’t sure you had ever heard him sound so hesitant, “we finished most of the stuff in there anyway…”

“You lost it, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. And I think I also spilled some-“

Not waiting for him to finish, you exclaimed your frustration.

“I can’t believe you! Just because you don’t see a use for ever picking up a book, I need that! I don’t have that kind of money spare either…”

As you raked a hand through your hair, Hoseok decided now was the time to be helpful.

“Gosh, I was afraid you would do this. We have a library for a reason, you know?”

Stopping your train of thought abruptly, you lowered your hand to glower at him.

“And now you’re going to make me go in the library? Ugh, you really have it out for me.”

Incredulous laughter followed. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, observing you with raised eyebrows.

“You’re telling me you believe in those stupid rumours?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you shrugged.

“Well, you’ve got to admit the place is creepy, right? And my flatmate said she knew that girl Cindy-“

As you spoke, Hoseok’s laughing grew louder, steadily filling the café until you were forced to stop.

“What?” you hissed.

“We’ve all heard about “Cindy”,” he made quotation marks in the air, “but that’s just a story! The older students made it up to scare newbies – and it would seem it worked. But everyone knows the scariest thing in the library is just the course reading.”

Biting your tongue, you didn’t muster up a response. You would only face more ridicule if you argued about this.

“Don’t forget the librarian,” you joked half-heartedly.

Hoseok chuckled lightly, and you were glad he dropped the topic after that.

But still the issue of your sorely misused textbook remained.

There was nothing to be done. You had to go to the library.

It may seem a ridiculous thing to be scared of, especially for someone who loved books, but, as Hoseok had kindly refreshed your memory of, there were… stories. The campus library at your college warranted a degree of wariness.

Most commonly told was the story of Cindy, supposedly a student at the university many years before. No matter how dramatic the story was made, the essentials were the same; she had gone into the library and never come out.

Logically, you knew that this was just one of those quirky urban legends that came to surround certain places.

Nonetheless, your nerves only worsened as you entered the grand building.

On your way in, you only passed one other student. Most people were leaving uni at around this time, but you needed to hang around anyway because your shift was soon. You had sent a quick text to Yoongi to let him know you would be there once you found the book, and somehow it comforted you a little that someone else knew you were here.

Moving through the first few rows of tall bookshelves, you had to pass by the main desk on your way to the section you were looking for.

Doing your utmost to tread with care, sandals making as little noise as you could manage on the wooden floor, you walked on.

As you drew near, the librarian looked up. Greeting them with a bright smile, you didn’t let it show that your heart was really thumping in your chest.

Hurrying along, you only slowed once you had entered the right section. Near the back of the library, it was dimmer as no light from the window reached all the way into the corner. Utter silence dampened the air. Not even the rustling of the librarian sorting papers could be heard from here.

Alone with the hushed sound of your own breath, your eyes flicked along the rows, searching for the right name.

Spotting it at last, you wasted no time in reaching for it. But as you tried to slide it from its spot, you were met with resistance. Perhaps it was very tightly packed in its place.

You tried again with both hands. It was still wedged in, but you felt it give a little so kept pulling. You managed to tug it out a little way, but this time, the book tugged back. Holding onto it as tightly as you were, you stumbled forwards, nearly slipping out of one of your sandals.

Gulping, your brow creased. More determined this time, you tried once more, but it seemed the book only retreated further among its companions on the shelf.

Breathing heavily, you stepped back. Books were not meant to do this. You swore it had moved by itself.

Maybe Hoseok would call you crazy if this was your reason for not getting the textbook. But, you thought, staring back down the empty row of shelves, a science textbook was less important than not getting involved with the strange happenings of the library.

Already you were questioning your sanity. Books didn’t move.

Looking back at it once more, it appeared perfectly unassuming. There was nothing unusual about the book. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, driven from the fear you felt about this place.

Breathing deeply, you reached your hand out for one last try. Picking up a book couldn’t be that hard. As long as you didn’t fear it-

Your fingers came into contact with the spine, and not a moment later, the book shrunk right back. But though it shot out of sight between its neighbours, your hand was stuck to it. Your intent to snatch it straight back at any sign of movement failed, and you were yanked forwards.

Flying clean off your foot now, your sandal clattered to the floor among the silent shelves behind you.

Your stomach jerked at the sudden movement. Now, as you plunged towards the shelves, you screwed your eyes shut, anticipating the imminent collision.

None came.

Instead, your insides seemed to be suspended. You had not crashed, but still your feet didn’t meet the floor; though your eyes were closed you were certain you were falling.

Rapidly upping its pace, your heart tried to punch through your ribs the longer you were in this state, fearing your landing. Panicked, you took great gulps of air, limbs flailing fruitlessly.

You landed.

It felt like you had been falling for a long time – too long – yet the force you hit the ground with was not painful. For a second, it expelled air from your lungs, but by the time you had rolled and tumbled enough to land on your back, you were sucking in a shaky breath.

Blinking, you turned to look around you. Your arms struggled to push you from the ground, but you heaved to sit up anyway.

This was like nowhere you had ever been.

No parquet was beneath you here. The ground was earth, sparse tufts of grass growing from it. But in places, the foliage was abundant, great swathes of vibrant grass surrounding a nearby rock which protruded from the ground.

These rocks were also plentiful, though not of regular size. They poked from the ground, rough surfaces being seized by moss of all colours.

Other plants stretched higher still, all in shades of purple, green and blue. Climbing slowly to your feet, your eyes traced up the stem of a slender tree whose leaves drooped downwards with their size.

The only thing you could hope to recognise were roses that grew in places, curved petals familiar atop their stems that wound around larger plants.

In the scattered canopy above you, there appeared to be vines as well. Climbers, perhaps; it appeared as if they were winding around ceiling beams above you, except that they were in open air, pale sky stretching above them.

Very deliberately, you blinked.

Nothing changed.

Jaw hanging open, you turned slowly around. This place continued the same everywhere you looked. You certainly weren’t in the library anymore.

Taking some effort to breathe evenly, you forced your feet to still.

Remembering your phone, you quickly reached for it. But as you repeatedly pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Either you had let it run down, or it wouldn’t work in this alien place.

You replaced it in your pocket with bitter disappointment and continued to stand still, observing this place.

Purposefully, you walked towards the nearest rock. Given the way you were transported here, you were a little wary of touching random objects, but you tentatively reached for the mossy surface. Briefly grazing it, you jumped backwards, expecting something to happen.

Nothing. Just the springy surface of moss, solid and very real.

Staring at the rock, your mind ran in uncomprehending circles. How had you got here? Why? How could you get out?

Cutting through your thoughts, a thump came from behind you.

Startled, you jumped around, eyes darting in panic around the world you had found yourself in. Nothing seemed to have moved…

A cough, followed by a groan, drifted from somewhere.

Frown deepening, you stepped forwards. A few paces brought you around the next rock, bigger than the last. Not only was it taller than you, it was bordered on one side by more of the tall plants, blocking your view of what was behind it.

This was definitely where the sounds were emanating from. As you cautiously rounded the boulder, rustling sounds reached your ears.

Reaching the trees, you peered between two dark blue trunks. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.

Instead, you were greeted with the shape of a person. They wore a dark jacket, their hair also dark, but they were facing away from you where they sat.

For a moment you stood frozen. You were divided: should you announce yourself? Maybe they could help you? But for all you knew, they might not feel kindly towards you. What would another person be doing in this strange place?

Before you had the chance to decide, let alone move, the person slumped backwards to lie down, huffing a great sigh as they went.

Your eyes widened. Now you could see their face — and you certainly hadn’t expected this.

“Hoseok?”

Squeezing between the trees, you pushed your way into the small clearing he lay in. On hearing your voice, he twisted towards you with wide eyes.

“Y/N?” he jumped up, eyeing you suspiciously, “what is this place?”

“I have no idea,” you answered honestly. Then, “what are you doing here?”

Echoing your earlier words, he said, “I have no idea.”

After a moment, he seemed to remember something and looked around sharply.

“I found this,” he told you, pointing at the ground some feet away. There lay your sandal from earlier.

“Oh. Thank you.”

You flashed an awkward smile and went to pick it on, sliding it back onto the foot it had lost not long ago. Then your silence resumed.

Briefly, you did nothing but stare at each other. Then you stared again at the bizarre scenery around you.

Hoseok was first to move. Apparently becoming tired of your company so soon, he turned away with hands on his hips and began to pick through the undergrowth, which was thicker here than where you had first landed.

Even if this was all the company you were granted, you were eager to keep it, and so followed him.

A few minutes passed. Eerie silence was all around, save for the tentative brush of your footsteps against plants. He hadn’t complained about your presence, though, so you eventually decided it safe to speak.

“Did you… fall here?” you ventured.

His eyes snapped back to you. With a nod, he confirmed it.

“From the library?”

Slowing down, he allowed you to catch up and walk at his side.

“Yeah, why? You too?”

“That’s what happened to me,” you nodded, “but… what were you doing in the library?”

But Hoseok never heard those last words. A deafening, crunching crash resounded through your quiet conversation, drowning you out.

Both of you reacted quickly, spinning to the source of the monstrous sound in fear. Your hammering heart only sped up as you located a dark shape above the treetops.

“There!” you cried, grabbing onto Hoseok’s sleeve.

He spotted it as you pointed, for it was rapidly growing, soaring towards you.

“What is that?” he yelled, stumbling backwards.

You had nothing to offer in reply, instead watching with wide eyes as the creature flew closer still. Still grasping at Hoseok’s sleeve, you tugged at it, looking around for the nearest cover. He made no move. Struck dumb with awe, he seemed to be rooted to the spot.

Turning back to the sky, you were panicked to see the beast drawing closer. You could make out a long snout protruding from its head, spiny wings beating slowly and yet carrying it swiftly over the land.

The monster was enormous, blocking out a chunk of the open sky.

Not wanting to hesitate any longer, you pulled Hoseok forcefully with you as you retreated under the cover of a thick patch of foliage. He complied, still unable to tear his gaze from the flying creature.

You almost daren’t look, even now you were secluded among shadow. But curiosity overcame you.

It was near enough on top of you now. You held your breath, terror washing over you at the sight of it, close enough now that you could make out scales on the thing’s large belly. They glimmered a blazing red as it moved.

But its pace was fast, and it continued quickly, long tail etching a path through the sky behind it.

“Was that…” you breathed, after you felt enough time had passed to be safe. But your thought was too absurd for you to speak out loud.

However, Hoseok finished it for you.

“A dragon?”

Both of you slowly turned to face each other, matching expressions of perplexed shock painting your faces. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words presented themselves.

Your gaze was only severed by the return of the same cacophony to the air that had first heralded the dragon. Only now, it was louder.

Ducking by reflex, you whipped around. Above the treetops, the dragon was returning.

Still filling the air, the sound was that of treetops rupturing as the scaled beast flew low over them, snapping them like matchsticks. Once again, it seemed like the thing was coming straight towards you.

“Let’s move,” you shouted over the noise.

Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

Side by side, you raced between trees, feet and clothes catching on leaves and vines that spanned the floor. Plunging on nonetheless, you kept your eyes set determinedly ahead.

By the time your lungs demanded you stop for breath, you were sure you must have gone a considerable distance from where you had first been hiding. But the deafening crashes from above had become no quieter.

Slowing down, you sagged against a tree as you gasped for air. Just in front of you, Hoseok looked around, finding you holding yourself up shakily against the trunk.

With a look to the sky and back at you, his face sank further, eyes wide and afraid.

“Y/N!” he cried.

Lifting your head, you met his eyes. Still panting, you turned to follow a finger he raised as he took trembling steps backwards.

Overhead, the leaves seemed to shake. A shadow was sliding along the forest floor as above it, twigs and branches rained down, bouncing from their lower counterparts until they disappeared into the shrubbery.

The dragon was following you.

“Come on!” Hoseok’s voice reached you somewhere among the din.

Spinning, you found him holding a hand out to you, gesturing maniacally for you to continue. You had barely caught your breath, but forced yourself to push away from the tree and run towards him once more.

What did surprise you was that he waited for you. When you came within reach, his outstretched hand was grabbing you, pulling you along at his side.

But there was no time to think of that. Chest heaving with exertion, you willed your feet to move faster underneath you in an attempt to flee the dragon.

All at once, the tall tree trunks you had been running between, almost dense enough to form a forest, stopped. Realising too late, the two of you shot from the cover at full speed, only to find yourselves utterly exposed.

Skidding to a stop, you looked to Hoseok in panic.

Before you could take another step, shadow fell over you again, but it was not cast by harmless trees. The roar of splintering branches grew to an overwhelming crescendo as the dragon caught sight of you and dived, uncaring for the insignificant wood pushed aside by its bulk.

Beside you, Hoseok screamed hoarsely. Together you fled backwards, knowing there was no hope of outrunning your pursuer.

In a few seconds, the beast had descended, giant nostrils flaring at your eye level. Curved fangs gnashed.

With horror, you saw a glow brighten the deep tunnels atop its snout.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted another rock, rough surface towering from the ground. You barely had time to think before you were shoving Hoseok to the side so you fell together behind the barrier. Not a moment later, blazing orange flared, obscuring all other sights as fire erupted from the monster’s jaws and nostrils.

You gave no thought to the position you had fallen in, your push having left you tumbling directly on top of Hoseok. His scream rang in your ears, only rivalled by the crackling heat in the air as his arms wrapped around you. You too were curling up, hands shielding your head in some attempt to shelter.

Thankfully, the rock you had chosen was one of the larger ones and took the brunt of the blast.

Not that it encouraged you much, considering the persistence the beast had shown so far. The dying away of the heat and fire only brought on dread, gnawing low and incessant in your stomach, of the next blast.

Barely daring to breathe, you stayed still, huddling against Hoseok, who did the same.

Any moment, you expected another massive roar to rip through the air. A swipe of the malicious claws or the sizzling heat of dragon flame. The longer you waited, the harder your heart rioted in your chest.

“Students.”

You jolted violently as a loud voice resonated through the air. But it was not the dragon.

Looking around showed you no one who the voice might belong to.

“It is gone,” the voice said.

Hoseok’s hold around you was loosening. Swallowing, you became aware of your proximity and carefully extracted yourself, not looking him in the eye as you moved to sit next to him instead.

It was true that no indicator of the dragon’s presence had made itself known, but you were not inclined to trust a faceless voice. You crawled to peer around the edge of the rock. Finding the space empty, you emerged further.

The clearing was totally deserted. The only evidence of the recent fearful moments was the debris of burnt leaves and broken branches scattered across the ground.

“Who are you?” Hoseok raised his voice, though it shook a little.

You returned to his side, the voice replying as you sunk down beside him.

“Students,” the voice repeated. It was level and calm, but awfully cold. The word was spoken with disdain. “I doubt you would recognise such a voice as mine. You young humans know not the value of words, of books. I am the librarian.”

You blinked in surprise. Next to you, Hoseok sat forward from the rock you leaned against.

“You are? Can you get us out of here?” he yelled, aiming his voice at the sky for lack of target for his pleas.

“Certainly not. I am the keeper of this land. You see, due to the neglect of your kind, my creatures are only kept alive through written word, and I cannot let them be endangered. Students are all the same. Careless. I do not appreciate those who vandalise or waste the knowledge granted them through books. And so, I cannot let you take another one.”

“It’s just a science textbook,” you muttered.

Meanwhile, Hoseok was growing more desperate.

“We won’t!” he called, “just let us out!”

Ringing silence was all he received in reply.

Eventually, he flopped back against the rock with a huff. Worrying your lip, you turned to him, though you had nothing to propose for what you should do next.

His hair was a dishevelled now, strands falling into his eyes which he now turned to you. To your surprise, his mouth curved back into a smile, breathy laughs bursting from him as he rested his head back on the rock.

He shook his head.

“This is crazy.”

You had to agree.

Turning your despairing eyes away and to the surrounding forest again, you were surprised to see movement among the trees. But this creature was not enormous or fire-breathing. A sandy-coloured tail waved, blurring in the air.

Bounding through the trees and coming to a stop at the forest edge, came a labrador.

Staring in bemusement, you found the dog looking right back at you. It was panting, mouth open in a smiley-looking shape. Its tail continued wagging enthusiastically behind it.

Just as you opened your mouth to tell Hoseok, the dog went rigid, body jerking as it barked across the space.

Sitting up straight, Hoseok spotted the dog as well, and together you watched it.

The dog watched back, standing still as if waiting for something. It reminded you of the way your flatmate’s dog used to wait for you to throw the ball when you played with her.

After another minute of stillness, it barked again, then turned and ran. You jumped to your feet as the yellow tail went wagging away through the shadows.

“What are you-“ Hoseok exclaimed as you started towards the trees, following the dog’s path.

Already tired, your legs lagged behind the dog’s pace and you nearly lost sight of the sandy fur. But you kept your eyes trained on it. This animal did not seem unfriendly, or angry. Something told you that you could trust it.

“Where are you going?”

You hadn’t noticed the pursuing footsteps until Hoseok was grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. Looking around at him in annoyance, you shrugged him off and turned back around. But you had lost sight of the dog now, finding the forest empty.

Your shoulders slumped.

“I was trying to do something to get us out of here-“

“By getting more lost?”

Hoseok’s eyes blazed with anger and he threw his arms out to punctuate his yell with frustration. Opening your mouth, you returned his outrage.

“We’ve been lost since we got here! We don’t know anything about this place, but we can’t just do nothing!”

“What can we do? You heard what the librarian said.”

His volume had lowered and he took a step back.

Breathing out, you did the same, noticing only now how you had crowded each other’s space in your anger. Swallowing down your own frustration, you levelled your gaze at him. His words spoke of despair.

Sighing, you pushed a hand through your hair.

“There’s no use in fighting,” you muttered, “and I’m scared too. But we have to try.”

Lifting his eyes to you, Hoseok felt then as if he was seeing you for the first time.

You shared his fear, and had spoken that out loud, but still the steely glint never left your eyes. Rather than run or hide, you stood tall, resolved to find a way out, no matter how hopeless this crazy turn of events seemed.

“Hoseok?” you called, rendered hesitant by his silence.

Giving his head a quick shake, he averted his gaze from you.

“Hobi,” he spoke.

You frowned.

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Hobi,” he repeated, “if we’re stuck here forever, I won’t be able to stand it if you call me Hoseok all the time.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Taking that to be some odd form of agreement, you turned around and started to pick your way again through the forest, no matter how blindly. The only vague thing guiding you was the notion that the dog had left this way, but that certainty grew weaker with time.

The only thing bolstering you were the steady steps of Hobi right beside you. A reminder you weren’t alone here.

“Sorry for losing your textbook.”

Smile quirking your lips, you turned to Hobi. He was steadfastly ignoring your gaze, kicking his feet through the low undergrowth while his hands were buried in his pockets.

“If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here now,” you hummed.

That caught his attention.

“Hey! At least I’m apologising!”

“Doesn’t fix the fact we’re lost in… well, wherever this is,” you chuckled, “though I’m sure it’s worked out well for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I hadn’t come here to replace my textbook, you would be here all alone.”

Hoseok simply tilted his head in vague answer.

After a few short moments of quiet, you resumed the conversation.

“So, what were you in the library for?”

He let silence stretch out for longer than you expected, and you slowed your steps to look at him. His eyes were wide, and when he spoke, it was with a nervous smile, as if he wasn’t sure he should be smiling.

But he was too quiet, and all you heard was something that sounded like ‘yuzbook’.

“Sorry?” you frowned.

With a long-suffering sigh, he finally spoke up.

“I was looking for your science book as well.”

Your eyebrows shot upwards.

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you had decided it was my responsibility? Even though you lost it.”

“Exactly, I had lost it. I felt bad.”

“Ha!” you exclaimed, jumping around to dance in front of him, “Jung Hoseok admits remorse! What is the world coming to?!”

“I told you to call me Hobi,” he grumbled.

A smile was still bursting at your lips, but you calmed down and returned smugly to his side.

“My bad. Hobi wanted to do something nice! For me, of all people! Maybe this really is a dream…”

“You dream about me?” he grinned, teasing right back.

“Eugh, of course not,” you scoffed.

His laughter filled the forest, and you were glad of it. At length, it faded and you walked on.

“But, turns out you were right to be scared of the library,” he admitted quietly.

Simply nodding, you kept going. By now you had lost all hope to have remained on course with the dog you had seen earlier, but there was little use dwelling on that.

Most of the way, you had been trekking through forest, but now the trees were thinning. Once again, they began to be clustered in patches near protruding rocks.

Coming between two waist-height boulders, you found a pond lying cradled by short grasses and more rose plants.

Agreeing on a break, you and Hobi slumped down at its bank, though you also agreed not to drink it. Hobi seemed much more distrustful of everything you came across in this curious land than you, but there was no harm in caution, you supposed. It was true that, on getting closer to the water, it appeared to glimmer silver.

What that meant, you didn’t know, but didn’t care to investigate.

Reclining on the ground, you breathed deeply. The pond was in a large clearing, similar to the first place you had crash landed in. You couldn’t escape some dread that all this time had brought you in a mere circle to the beginning, but there was no way to be certain.

Forest lined one side of the oasis, while the other stretched away, obscured behind that rocky landscape dotted with an array of foliage.

As you scanned the area idly, a familiar blur of motion had you sitting up with a yelp.

“There! Did you see that!” you cried, but began running without waiting for a reply.

Twisting to attention, Hobi clumsily took to his feet after you.

“You sure?” he called after you.

You kept running. You had seen it – it had been right here. You were certain it was trying to lead you somewhere, and you felt compelled to follow it.

Plunging between rocks, Hobi’s slower steps faded behind you. Uncaring, you continued, eyes alert for any sign of your goal.

And there it was: another brief glimmer from just beyond the next clump of plants. You were so close. This time, you were going to reach it. It would get you out of here.

Still running, you didn’t care that the way wound deeper through the terrain, nor that the world around you darkened as you went. No, your mind was set. You kept moving.

When you finally reached what seemed to be the midst of the darkness, it never occurred to you that this was never what you had been looking for. All you were filled with was delight; in the middle of the dark clearing stood a grove of roses. They were taller than the roses you had seen so far, growing thickly and close together.

In the blackness, the petals emitted a soft glow that shone through their delicate veins.

A smile curved your lips. But as you took a slow step towards the luminescence, something emerged from behind them. It became clear that the roses themselves were not glowing, but the creature. A unicorn.

White coat shimmering with its every move, it seemed to glide over the landscape. The slender horn protruding from its head appeared crafted by the finest silversmith, with hints of colours dancing along it even in darkness.

All breath was stolen from you. Your startled exhale left a cloud lingering in the air beside your lips which glittered as the majestic animal walked in front of you.

Either it didn’t see you, or didn’t mind your presence, because it proceeded perfectly calmly. Keeping your eyes fixed on it, your feet stumbled after the serene creature without you willing them to.

You barely blinked as you followed the graceful unicorn, desperate to keep your eyes on it. You couldn’t have torn them away if you wanted to. Just watching the animal had all your tension melting away: legs feeling heavy, mind fogging. All your worries dissipated as easily as smoke in the wind.

The world was silent. It was as if your ears were plugged as you reached out, somehow confident enough to touch the noble beast.

Another step closer.

Your fingers stretched out, ready to meet the sleek, glowing coat-

“Y/N!”

A blow knocked you sideways, a weight falling with you as the shout of your name rung loudly in your ears. For a split second, you winced, expecting to be crushed on the ground, but already a hand shielded your head. Instead, you landed on a body, held securely in the person’s arms.

Gasping, you found yourself breathless. Your gaze had been severed on being tackled, and now that you blinked, dark clouds seemed to lift from your vision.

Looking around wildly, you were slow to come to your senses, but the person was already shifting.

“We need to move.”

That voice was familiar. Looking around, you found Hoseok’s eyes trained on you as he struggled to stand with your weight against him.

Clumsily getting your feet underneath you, your mouth opened, but a shriek filled the air before you could speak.

Clapping your hands over your ears, you winced at the piercing wail splitting the air.

Hoseok, however, wasted no time. He grasped your wrist, pulling you stumbling across the clearing behind him as he sprinted away.

Wide-eyed and breathless, you twisted to look behind you. The unicorn was still there, but it wasn’t glowing, just plain white. But your eyes only caught it for a second, before a darker shape was swooping from the sky.

Feet pounding, you fled the shrieking beast as it descended in a rush of feathers.

Glinting talons flashed, inches in front of your face as the bird-like shriek reached its peak.

And then you were plunged into shadow, squeezed between leaves and petals.

Hoseok slowed, dropping your hand, but you were practically frozen. You staggered backwards, eyes trained on the spot those razor sharp claws had been.

Above you, the shrill cry was quieting, echoing around the land as your attacker circled higher once more.

“What… what was that?” you panted.

“That was close,” Hoseok responded, no humour in his voice. “I was calling to you! Why didn’t you move?”

“You were?” you frowned, “I-I didn’t hear. I don’t know what happened.”

Light frown creasing his brow, Hobi looked seriously down at you. Swallowing, he looked you over. Your heart still trembled, trying to take in what had just happened, and you looked up at him fearfully. Was he angry?

Fixing his eyes on your own, Hobi stepped forward, bending to draw your faces closer together. Holding your breath, you stiffened, heart rate rocketing as his breath fell warm over your cheeks.

Then he reached his hand out. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure why your face was growing hotter under his scrutiny.

His fingers met your hair. They pulled gently at a strand.

“You had this in your hair.”

Blinking, you found him holding a rose petal up, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Right. Thank you,” you spoke awkwardly, snatching it from his hand.

“Let’s stay here for a bit,” he said then, turning around as if nothing had happened. However, you didn’t complain. You didn’t want him to see your burning cheeks.

Hobi had pulled you into the grove of roses you had seen earlier, which grew some way above your heads. The bushes were close together, providing the perfect cover. You heard no more of the shrieking monster as you walked after him through the plants.

Beautiful flower heads were nestled everywhere, the graceful bundles of petals peering at these strangers walking through their home.

Eventually, Hobi came to a halt. When you stopped at his side, he pushed aside some leaves to show you what lay beyond.

You had reached the other side of the grove and a new clearing lay before you. Unlike the other places you had been, there were no tall trees or wide rocks rising from the ground. At last it was flat.

But, most noticeably, in the middle of the clearing there was a building. Deep blue walls rose from a gold base, thin pillars winding upwards to support the corners of the many-sided roof. Small arched windows were set high up in the walls, through which you could see a silvery glow from inside.

Hobi looked around the space before emerging. No longer impatient, you wholly agreed with his caution and also peered out carefully.

As you remained mostly hidden by the roses, something came running around the house.

The dog.

Same as before, it stood looking at you, smiling mouth and wagging tail welcoming.

First, you looked to Hobi.

“What do you think?”

“You were right,” he replied, “the dog seems alright. We should give it a shot.”

Smiling, you felt assured now you were in agreement. Not stopping to think too much about the action, you placed your hand resolutely in Hobi’s and stepped forwards.

This time the dog did not begin running away, waiting for you by the blue house wall instead. As the two of you drew closer, you bent a little, holding your hand out to the creature.

“Hi!” you cooed, ignoring Hobi’s light scoff from beside you.

The dog poised as if it would bark back, but instead it looked towards the house. Following its gaze, you looked through the window and instantly fell silent.

Inside, a figure was sitting, though you could only see their head and shoulders – and a pair of wings. They fluttered lazily, glinting in the silvery light.

“The librarian,” Hobi murmured.

Nodding, you looked back to the dog.

“Will you help us?” you whispered.

Its tail wagged harder.

Smiling, you reached out to give it a gentle pat, ruffling the soft fur between its ears.

Satisfied, the sandy blond animal turned around, tail blurring all the while. It trotted away, leading you around the house. On passing the windows, you both ducked, fearing what the faerie would do if they discovered you here.

A short dash, looking over your shoulders, and you finally reached a thick row of trees. Squeezing behind the large trunks, you were surprised to see large wooden doors waiting for you.

If not for the lingering worry of the librarian somewhere nearby, you would have laughed out loud.

Hobi rushed forwards, grasping the dogs ears and ruffling them enthusiastically.

“You got us out!” he whispered happily.

You were amused to see the dog’s smiling mouth grow wider, tongue hanging out with his praise.

Jumping up with a brilliant grin, Hobi walked to the door. Waiting by the handle, he let you also say goodbye to your four-legged saviour.

“Thank you,” you told it with a loving pat. For a moment, you looked into the dog’s eyes, wishing you could somehow convey your gratitude.

Then a thought came over you. Tilting your head, you frowned slightly.

“Cindy?”

The dog’s tail whirred back into motion, hopping up and down a little at the name.

Breaking into a smile, you patted it affectionately.

“Good girl, Cindy,” you grinned, “thank you.”

Then you stood to join Hobi’s side. He lifted the great handle, which made a concerning thunk in the quiet.

Hurriedly slipping through, you fell against the other side of the wood as he followed and shut it firmly behind him. You were back at the entrance of the library, the glass doors at the front of the foyer showing the road beyond it, no different than ever as cars and pedestrians hurried along.

“Who let someone like that work in a school?” you laughed, incredulous.

Hobi laughed loudly at last, the sound bringing a bigger grin to your face.

You had made it out.

All of a sudden, a pinging sound rang from your pocket, soon over taken by at least five more.

Pulling out your phone, you found it alive again, the screen lit up and full of messages.

“Yoongi’s wondering where I am,” you muttered, “my shift…”

Hobi pushed away from the wooden door, starting to walk with you across the entrance hall. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he nodded.

“Yeah, um, I should get going too, I guess.”

Opening the main doors, you stood outside on the steps, at a loss. A bus rumbled past.

“Okay,” you spoke at length, “yeah. Er, see you around.”

Smiling briefly, Hobi took a few hesitant steps back before he committed to walking away. One last wave and he was engulfed by the crowd on the street.

You sighed and set off in the opposite direction.

The bell clinked, swinging wildly above the door as you hurried over to the counter.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you spoke as you set your stuff down.

Turning to lean against the counter, Yoongi shrugged.

“’s’alright. Where were you though?”

“Ah…”

What were you meant to say? Your head was still spinning from everything that had passed, but you knew no one would believe you if you told them the truth. Shifting a little, your teeth nipped at your lower lip while you tried to come up with a reasonable excuse.

Meanwhile, a knowing look was sliding onto Yoongi’s face.

“I see,” he grinned, and then, to your mortification, winked!

“No, you don’t- that’s not-“ you protested, but he was already snickering and turning back to the washing up.

Shaking your head, you concluded that whatever his belief was would make as good as excuse as any. At least he had made it up for you, saving the hassle.

You got to work.

Over the next couple of days, everything ran like normal. Except for you, nothing was normal.

You still had no idea how such a small amount of time had passed while you and Hobi were busy running for your lives in fear of the librarian and their crazed world. You had barely been late for your shift afterwards; when it was time for bed you had collapsed straight in, feeling as if you had been awake for two days straight.

Of course, you had never gone back for that textbook.

In college the next day, you had taken a detour to class, stubbornly avoiding the building that had all but kidnapped you, wondering at the fact no one else seemed to realise.

At the café later on, you waited impatiently for any sign of Hobi outside. He was the one person you desperately wanted to see. Surely he must be feeling the same? He would understand.

But you waited and waited, serving countless other customers without much thought. He never came, and so you were left to question your own sanity by yourself.

Nothing about your impromptu adventure made sense.

If it had been real, why didn’t Hobi act like anything had changed? You certainly couldn’t pretend that nothing had been altered between you while you had been trapped in that strange world inside the library.

Perhaps it had been a dream. All of it seemed so implausible that even recollecting it sent you spiralling with more questions.

But there was one hope. Even if Hobi remembered nothing of what transpired, you were still supposed to tutor him. You would see him next week, and try to assess what he might remember.

So when your phone buzzed that night, screen lighting up with a message from him at last, you had expected to arrange this week’s session. But all it said was: come outside.

Though you frowned, you weren’t going to pass up this chance.

Sliding off your bed, you quickly stuffed your feet into your slippers and tried your best not to break into a run on the way to the door. Collecting yourself first with a deep breath, you pulled it open.

The first thing you took in was empty space outside your door. Blinking at it, you couldn’t prevent the disappointment from creeping in. But then your eyes flickered downwards.

There at your feet lay a rose.

Your lips parted in wonder as you stooped to pick it up. Taking it between your fingers, you rolled it gently there. It was the exact same as those delicate flowers that had filled the grove where you sheltered together in the library.

A smile tugged at your mouth. It only grew as you remembered the identical petal Hobi had pulled from your hair.

He remembered.

The relief that washed over you was dizzying. Clutching the flower to your chest, you smiled out of your doorway once more, silently thanking Hobi.

But you wouldn’t have to be silent for long. Your eyes landed on a figure leaning against a lamppost a few metres away, smiling right back at you.

As your eyes met, Hobi stood straighter. His mouth shifted to a radiant grin. He had come back to you.

Thank you so much for reading!! And again, send lots of birthday love over to @moccahobi​!! As promised, here is the beautiful bingo card I used for this story:

taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @ddaechwita​ @taegularities​ 

[americangirlstar]

Now that both Courtney books are out and I’ve read and processed them both, I do want to say that I think they’re the least well-written of any of the AG books, but not through any fault of their own- let me explain.

(Note that for this discussion I’m ignoring the Doylist criticisms- Courtney and 3/4 of her friend group being white again, the lack of gay discussion in-text in regards to the HIV crisis, etc. These are valid complaints and concerns, but not what we’re talking about right now.)

The Problem with the Current Book Length

I think the main problem with Courtney stems from the fact her books are so short. American Girl has literally been doing the stupidest things in regards to their books lately, almost as if they’re trying to sabotage them on purpose. First they remove illustrations in 2015- when their target audience is about nine years old. I don’t know about you, but when I was six and getting into American Girl, the illustrations were the highlight for me. Not because I had no attention span and loved pretty pictures, but because it showed me firstly what the girl’s life was like, whether it be 1760s wilderness or 2001 Chicago. It was like stepping into their world, really helping you get into their heads, which was basically what the dolls were supposed to do, to let you know that girls like you exist throughout time and space.

As well as that, the illustrations were free advertisement. I can’t tell you how excited me and my sisters were as children to go to the American Girl place and look at the doll displays, shouting that that’s the dress Felicity wears to the ball! or look, Josefina’s goat looks exactly like the book! AG cut that from 2015 to 2020, as if they were trying to appeal to an older audience- while at the same time changing all the doll outfits, accessories and marketing to appeal to a younger demographic.

Now, this isn’t about the illustrations, as Courtney got those- it’s about what they did to the historical characters after the Illustration Outrage™ happened. See, they’d condensed the historical six-book format into two books- not necessarily a bad idea, parents would be more likely to buy two books for their kid than consider buying six. However, they then claimed that if they put illustrations back, they would have to abridge the books- literally my nightmare.

First of all, American Girl, we know for a fact you can fit all six books plus illustrations into ONE VOLUME, let alone two. You’re just being cowards here and trying to nerf your own stories for... some reason.

So that meant a lot of important things got cut- Rebecca’s Chanukah story, Melody’s cousin’s house search, Maryellen’s Christmas adventure... all things important to the girls’ histories and character.

The Problem with Courtney’s Writing

Now, Courtney was the first doll to be released after the abridging began, meaning her books were released, in their entirety, just as short as the abridged stories. So it basically means she gets four books while the others get six- and unlike the others, Courtney doesn’t even have mysteries or short stories to pad out. (And honestly, looking at her book’s amount of content, I’d even argue that she basically got two while everyone else got six, but I digress.)

The problem with her books isn’t that they have an author writing them poorly (I really feel like her author was doing the best with what limited time she had), but in how cramped American Girl made them. Because, well, Courtney has to deal with a lot in such a short amount of words.

Let’s compare her to Julie, for instance- Julie pretty much has a new 70s thing every book. In order: feminism, rising divorce rates, San Francisco’s Chinese culture, environmentalism, the country’s bicentennial, anti-bullying and deaf acceptance. And adding to this, we also have her own personal journies through her parents’ divorce and move, her basketball team, her friendship with Ivy (and later Joy), overcoming her fear of horses, student council, detention... It’s a lot, and yet her books don’t feel rushed or forced at all. It’s just a year in the life of a girl going through a lot of new and sudden events, and how she grows and changes throughout them. She may not be as deep a character as Addy or Kirsten, but not every girl goes through the trials and tribulations they do, and it’s a good series overall.

Courtney, meanwhile, does feel rushed and forced, because of the short timespan. Instead of fitting everything into a six-book format- or even at two-book format that is the same length and content as the six-book- everything has to be fit into two short books.   Everything Courtney has to cover includes the topics of divorce and stepfamilies, feminist and technological advancement, the Challenger explosion, the HIV crisis, Hands Across America, and the founding of Pleasant Company. And in Courtney’s own journey, she has to cover her learning to stand up for herself, her relationship with her stepsister and Tina’s own character development, her mother running for mayor and how that affects her, how much she misses her Dad after he moves, her friendship with Sarah (note on that later), her basically getting hate-crimed after standing up for her friend... that’s a LOT of stuff, and I didn’t even include the non-AG 80s product placement they shove into her collection.

But without the longer format, everything is pushed together to its detriment. Tina’s development and Maureen’s mayoral candidacy are two plotlines that are literally dropped and almost completely ignored in the second book. The Challenger and HIV issues were handled decently, but the Challenger only lasted a few short chapters, and the HIV topic was not as informative as it could be, leaving out several things like Reagan’s refusal to treat it for so long, and its effect on the gay community. Honestly, the HIV scare was more shifted to focus on the mob mentality of a new and scary disease- which, while needed right now, also ignores many of the bigotry-related reasons it became an epidemic. Pleasant Company’s inclusion feels forced in, and I think was the only resolution she had to her Dad plotline?

And don’t get me started on the Sarah plotline- every Girl of the Year since Kanani- sans Isabelle and Luci- has had the story of “oh no I’ve been ignoring my friend and now they’re mad at me :(” and it’s SO old. Seriously, I counted the contemporary dolls that have had that storyline, and it’s thirteen*. Thirteen times we’ve covered this issue- almost all of it in quick succession- and now we have to deal with it in a historical character book while much more important things are going on! Yes, it sucks when a friend ditches you while you’re being attacked and bullied for something you’re standing up for, but once again, with how much is happening in such a short book, it just feels like a forced-in plotline that we’ve seen a billion times, and with their falling-out happening mainly due to the attention Courtney was given Isaac, it serves to make Sarah seem closed-minded at best and bigoted at worst- it’s clarified that she’s not, she’s just scared and upset with Courtney, but when you put those events so close together, it leads the reader to lump them together and get the impression that, you know, Sarah is a worse person than she is.

*Full count: Nicki (book 2), Chrissa (book 2), Kanani (2), McKenna (1 iirc?), Saige (both books), Grace (2), Lea (3), Gabriela (1 and 3), Tenney (2), Z (1), Blaire (1), Joss (1) and Kira (1).

It’s a bit weird, too, that Courtney’s... what’s the word? Vibe? with her how her story is written and marketed Is closer to the Contemporaries than the Historicals. Am I the only one feeling this? My best explanation for it is that the author, Kellen Hertz, had only written contemporary books for American Girl before- the third Lea Clark book and all four Tenney Grant books, both of which contained the Friendship Issues™ plot. I’m not at all saying she’s a bad author- I honestly love the way the Tenney books are written- and I’m not saying she couldn’t write a historical book, but it’s clear American Girl didn’t ask her to change up her style or content from what she’d done for them before, as well as giving her way too much to cover in such short books.

Conclusion

Honestly, this conclusion should be obvious- American Girl needs to expand their books again. Whether they simply allow the books to be unabridged, or go back to the six-book format, Courtney's books are too cramped to tell an effective story, let alone the poor abridged girls.

The other girls were given six-book length, so if they went back to that length or format, Courtney would have to be rewritten, at least a little- and that’s okay! There’s a lot of things that could use expansion or connection, such as her Summer trip with her Dad that was given basically one sentence in the text. Her growth with her stepfamily could be acknowledged- and honestly? I think that if these books were expanded, her mother’s mayoral arc should either continue through the books, or Maureen should become mayor before the book 2 arc. I’ve mentioned this before, but having Maureen as mayor (or even still a candidate) would put a lot of pressure on Courtney to be perfect so that nobody can say “look at how awful this woman is for doing politics instead of raising her family right”- which means that when the Isaac stuff happens, it has even more stakes for Courtney and her family. Does her Mom still support her with her own reputation on the line, and what does that say about Maureen’s character, how does it affect Courtney and the D’Amicos... that’s all fascinating stuff that was completely missed out on.

And if she was turned into a six-book format- honestly, here’s how I’d do it, just off the top of my head. It would involve a bit of event shuffling, but honestly I think it would work!

Meet Courtney - pretty much the setup for everything happening, her starting to get her Crystal Starshooter plans and her mom’s campaign beginning.

Courtney Learns a Lesson - her relationship to Tina, culminating in the Challenger incident.

Courtney’s Surprise - we move the founding of Pleasant Company over here, since Molly’s basically her Christmas Present. We’ll probably need an additional plotline- maybe similar to Julie, she can have a story on spending the holidays in different places.

Happy Birthday Courtney - end of summer, aka meeting Isaac and her trip with her Dad.

Courtney Saves the Day - Beginning of the HIV arc, ending at her presentation to her class.

Changes for Courtney - Continuation of the HIV arc as things get worse for her and Isaac, ending where Friendship Superhero ends.

Is that a perfect sorting? Probably not, I came up with it in ten minutes. But would it give Courtney space to breathe and more time to explore everything happening to her? Probably!

The tl;dr of this is honestly that American Girl are absolute cowards right now, and need to expand their books back. Their abridging is only harming their stories- which, as Courtney herself points out, are the reason girls got into their company in the first place.

[yuzukult]

drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written  words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown.  notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?” 

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time. 

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?” 

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.” 

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?” 

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!” 

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?” 

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness. 

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.” 

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.” 

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room. 

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse. 

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

 When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs. 

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!” 

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs. 

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.” 

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.” 

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner. 

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.” 

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate. 

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

[archived-kin]

you are hopelessly in love with one (1) librarian

note from kin: i’m (kinda) back baby!!!!!

i thought i’d start with something for myself to get back into the ~groove~ so i chose lisa since i love her so much

in this one you’re venti’s accompanist bard buddy and play the flute! whether or not you’re a vision-holder isn’t mentioned but i like to imagine that venti gives you an anemo vision after the two of you bond as fellow musicians (though of course you don’t know it’s him who gave you it, you basically just woke up one night after a performance and found it in your pocket)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lisa, kaeya, venti, razor

pairing(s): lisa/reader (+ some wholesome best friend venti content)

warning(s): none!

genre: fluff

“She’s so pretty,” You groan into the table. “I’m going to die.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Kaeya replies through a mouthful of hash brown. “Your bard friends would be rather sad without their favourite Buoyant Balladeer.”

“What difference is it going to make?” You raise your head and stare at him with soulless eyes. “My life has no meaning anyway.”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.” Kaeya slaps your shoulder so hard that you swear you feel your bones dislocate. “Cheer up.”

You groan, but sit up and take the hash brown he offers you anyway. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” He responds, already shoving another one into his mouth and beginning to chew.

You let out a heavy sigh and begin to nibble miserably on your own hash brown. “Sorry about all this. I probably sound like an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He reaches over and gives your hair a playful ruffle. “And you don’t sound like an idiot. Lisa’s a very beautiful lady, after all.”

You raise your head in a snap, glaring at your friend through narrow eyes. “Hey, watch it.”

“I’m uninterested, not blind. Calm down.” He flicks you in the head with a chuckle. Raising his eyes to the sky, he gives a content sigh, as if the sun that he appears to be staring directly into isn’t burning his eye. “You know, a sky like this really calls for a nice glass of dandelion wine…”

“You have beyond enough problems to deal with right now without becoming a day drinker as well,” You shoot back. “Don’t you still have a report to file about those Treasure Hoarders over in Windrise?”

“Oh, that’s taken care of,” He says dismissively, taking a sip from his cup of water. “All dealt with.”

“Careful, Mr Kaeya,” comes a familiar honey-sweet voice from somewhere behind you, and you immediately tense. “Lying is a sin.”

“Miss Lisa!” laughs your blue-haired companion as the librarian pulls up a seat at your table, leaning forward and resting her chin on a single gloved hand. It’s an innocent motion by all means, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “So kind of you to join us. What brings you here?”

“I simply saw two familiar faces while out on a stroll,” She smiles, stealing Kaeya’s mug and taking a sip of his Wolfhook juice. “How have we all been doing?”

“I-I’m doing great,” You quickly reply as her eyes land on you, unable to form a more intelligent response under her clear green-eyed gaze.

Much better now that you’re here, you add silently as she turns her attention to Kaeya, sliding his mug back over to him with such ease that you get the impression she does this a lot.

Kaeya himself either hasn’t noticed Lisa stealing his drink or doesn’t care, since he promptly curls his fingers back around the tankard and takes a long drink without any indication that he’s noticed anything out of the norm.

“Craving some wine, but I suppose I’m fine,” He sighs, tilting his head slightly to the side and swirling the contents of his mug around. “[Name] here says I shouldn’t be drinking during daylight.”

“And [Name] is very right,” Lisa shakes her head, the little rose accessory on the end of her hat tinkling with the motion. You can’t help but silently compare the sound to the ringing of heaven’s bells. Curse your stupidly romantic heart. “You drink more than enough in the evenings.”

“Then what of you?” Kaeya counters, smirking playfully. “I know for a fact that you can drink most of Angel’s Share’s patrons under the table within a single night.”

“Perhaps so, but I spend far less nights in front of the bar than you do.”

You stare determinedly down into the bottom of your water tankard as Lisa and Kaeya continue their little back-and-forth, feeling an odd sensation tugging at the pit of your stomach. What is this? Anger? Jealousy?

Tapping your fingers agitatedly on the tabletop, you kick yourself firmly in the shin. You’re being ridiculous. Kaeya knows just how head-over-heels you are for the Witch of Purple Rose, and even if he is a sneaky little snake who swaps around the chess pieces when he thinks you’re not looking, you know that he’d never do something like… that to you. Besides, you know full well that, even if they’re close friends, they don’t harbour any romantic feelings for each other.

As the songs say, though, jealousy is a green-eyed demon that will listen to irrationality over reason any day, and so you can’t help but glare subtle holes into the side of Kaeya’s head as he continues to converse with the object of your affections as if you’re not even there.

“... I jest, I jest,” He laughs, waving his hand about as Lisa giggles into her glove. “Anyway, as I was saying to our friend here earlier - the weather’s been beautiful recently, hasn’t it?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a signal that Kaeya clearly sees and pointedly ignores. The both of you know that the weather was far from what you had been conversing about earlier, but you’re glad that Kaeya isn’t giving you away, at the very least.

“Quite,” Lisa agrees, tossing a lock of hair out of her face in a way that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. “Pleasant weather for a stroll around Starsnatch Cliff, wouldn’t you say, [Name]?”

You jolt in your seat and heat up so abruptly that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started smoking. Kaeya sniggers not-so-subtly into his hand as you hurriedly stutter, “U-uh, yeah, totally!”

“Is that an invitation?” Kaeya raises an eyebrow with a coy smirk, and you’ve never wanted to punch him more than you do at this moment. “I’m sure [Name] would be glad to accompany you.”

“Ah, I couldn't impose myself like that,” Lisa shakes her head, and you want to cry because if only you weren’t such a coward you could tell her that she’d never be imposing on you. “Razor could do with some new scenery for his training. I might as well show him the sights.”

“How is training with your protégé going, then?” Kaeya asks. “He seems to have become quite the loyal little wolf since you first took him under your wing.”

“Oh, he’s an absolute darling,” Lisa says breezily. “He still isn’t very verbal, unfortunately, but he’s learning to communicate like a star. And he’s becoming a dab hand at using his Vision more effectively, too.”

“Sounds like you’re a wonderful teacher, then,” Kaeya compliments, then gives you a side-eyed look. “Wouldn’t you agree, [Name]?”

You nod vigorously. “Absolutely!”

“You flatter me,” Lisa sighs, “But a good teacher is nothing without a bright and willing student.”

Kaeya gives you a subtle dig in the side, and you hurriedly go to reply. “H-hey, give yourself some credit. Razor never would have been able to open up so much without you.”

“You’re too kind, darling.” She gives you a brilliant smile, and you very nearly pass out on the spot, but Kaeya helpfully keeps you conscious by stomping hard on your left foot like the little shit he is. You’ll have to get him back for that later - when your heart rate isn’t so rapid that it feels like you might just ascend to Celestia any minute now.

Lisa doesn’t stay for long after that, conversing with Kaeya for another five minutes or so while you stew in your own flustered chagrin and silently continue to freak out over just how… perfect she is. It’s honestly ridiculous. How is she even human? How are you worthy of even being in her presence?

“Well,” Kaeya says as Lisa disappears back down the street, presumably to return to her place in the office. “That went well.”

You glare at him. “You think?”

“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” He counters, grinning cheekily. “That’s a start.”

You open your mouth to give him a grumpy response, then give up and slump forward on the table again. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” He hums, draining the last of his Wolfhook juice and setting the mug down with a sharp thunk. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be preparing for your performance tonight? You should probably go find your partner.”

“Our friend Kaeya is very right,” calls an all-too-familiar figure from atop a nearby roof. “You’re late.”

If it had been any other occasion, you might have jumped, but right now you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything but let out a long, tired sigh. Ignoring Kaeya’s evil little cackle, you look up and turn to see Venti grinning down at you. “Bard.”

“Accompanist,” He imitates your monotone address, hopping down from the roof and landing softly on the pavement without so much as a click of his shoes. Flicking out his cape, he sets his hands on his hips and offers you his usual cheeky grin. “What’s got you so gloomy?”

“Nothing,” You reply, standing up and dusting off the front of your clothes. “Let’s go.”

Venti doesn’t move. He raises a single, suspiciously perfectly-shaped eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, then looks to Kaeya, who not-so-subtly mouths something at him. You pretend not to notice his obvious hand gestures in the corner of your eye.

“Ah,” Venti says suddenly, his expression taking on a mock-wise air. “Love troubles once again, I presume. Is our dear [Name] still ailed by a paralysing infatuation with one Miss Lisa?”

Kaeya claps enthusiastically, as if he isn’t the one who basically just told Venti the whole story through poorly-done charades. “Correct! I keep telling them to make a move, you know, but they’re too much of a coward.”

You aim a kick at his shin under the table that he dodges easily. “I’m not a coward! I’m just… gauging the territory.”

“You’ve been ‘gauging the territory’ for months now,” Venti whines, holding his fists in front of his chest and giving you the widest-eye look he can muster. “Come on! The eagle that never dives will never catch its prey, after all!”

“Lisa isn’t prey,” You counter. “And I’m not an eagle.”

“Hopeless is what you are,” comments Kaeya, leaning back in his chair and toying absently with a lock of his hair. “Hmmm, why don’t you write her a song? That’s your strong suit, isn’t it?”

“A song?!” You practically combust right there and then - if you’d been a Pyro Vision holder, you have no doubt that you’d have erupted into a column of flame on the spot. “No way!”

“I think that’s a splendid idea!” Venti exclaims, hopping up and down excitedly on the spot, hat threatening to fly off his head all the while. “You write the lyrics and melody, we compose the instrumental part together, and I’ll sing it for you! We’ll be an absolutely unresistable duo!”

“Easy there,” Kaeya teases, holding up a hand. “Our friend here is the one trying to win Lisa’s affections, after all.”

“Then I’ll be sure to try to direct as much of the spotlight to them as possible,” Venti replies, completely unaffected by Kaeya’s attempt to fluster him. You wish you had his coolheadedness sometimes. “C’mon, [Name], what do you say?”

“I said no!” You holler as he jumps energetically up at you like an over-excited puppy. “No way! There’s no way I’m going to just— broadcast my feelings like that!”

“You won’t be,” Kaeya explains, infuriatingly calm in the face of your explosive embarrassment. “Write the song so that only Lisa would be able to understand the true feelings behind it. It shouldn’t be difficult - you’re the master lyricist, after all.”

“Plus you have me to help as well,” Venti chimes in, holding up a single, proud finger. “The Windborne Bard himself - with me by your side, you can’t possibly fail!”

“Look—” You sink back into your seat and hunch forward, burying your face into your hands. A moment later, you raise your head again to see Venti giving you a concerned look. “I appreciate it, I really do, but… I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Kaeya says unhelpfully, giving you a hearty slap on the back that is also unhelpful in every way. “You’ve performed all over Teyvat - this would be a small feat in comparison.”

“You aren’t helping, Master Kaeya,” Venti says, not-so-subtly elbowing Kaeya in the side. “We need to be cautious here. Like coaxing a young hatchling to fly the nest… we must take baby steps.”

“No baby steps!” You protest, leaning away as he takes a threatening step closer. “No steps at all!”

“Surely writing a subtle confessional song would be much easier than playing an intricate ballad in front of some of the most influential figures of Liyue?” Kaeya doesn’t show any signs of relenting. “Archons above, [Name], it seems that you’ve channelled all of your courage to entirely the wrong places.”

You drop your head into your hands again and glare at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Kaeya, I’d die for you any day, but for the love of the Archons, please shut up.”

He shrugs and obligingly places his finger over his lips, but you can clearly see him hiding a laugh behind it.

Venti hums, leaning over and giving your shoulder a comforting rub as you sigh miserably into your hands. “Hey, relax. I’m not going to drag you out on stage and force you to confess in song, much as I’m tempted to. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to.”

You ignore that middle part and choose to focus on Venti’s earnest attempt at consolation. “...thanks.”

“No need to thank me!” He winks playfully and gives your knees a firm pat. “Now come on! Confession or not, we still have a performance to practise for!”

You sigh and smile. “...sure.”

Leaving Kaeya to pay the lunch bill in retaliation for his teasing, you and Venti head off to your usual practice spot in the gardens outside the Cathedral. There’s some debate over who gets to wear the ‘Star of the Show’ Windwheel Aster pin today, but Venti relents quickly and gives you an easy win. You’re pretty sure it’s out of pity for your romantic plight, but you don’t care. The pin looks a lot nicer fastened on the lapel of your coat, anyway - the colour doesn’t match Venti’s cloak at all.

“So what’s the quota for tonight?” Venti asks, giving his lyre an absent-minded strum. “Celestial Destiny on repeat once more, I presume.”

“Shut up,” You groan, flipping open the latches of your instrument case and carefully lifting out your flute. “I’ve just been… lacking inspiration.”

“What you’ve been lacking is emotional fulfilment,” Venti sighs, reaching over and flicking you in the side of the head. “All you do is wander around Mondstadt, practise, and perform. Surely you could compose something flavourful if you had a little more excitement in your life.”

“I have excitement enough just as I am,” You bring your flute to your mouth. “Now shut up and start practising.”

Venti huffs, but begins strumming the opening chords anyway.

The two of you work your way steadily through your usual repertoire for the next hour or so. It goes smoothly as always - you’ve performed these pieces so many times that you could probably play them in your sleep - but you can’t help but feel like something is missing throughout the entire practice. Venti seems to be fully aware of it as well - rather than closing his eyes and swaying along to the music like usual, he just keeps glancing at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, wearing that frown that says ‘I know exactly what’s going on here but I don’t know if I should bring it up’.

Finally, he has enough, abruptly stopping his strumming in the middle of Early Dawn and setting his lyre down on the bench with a huff. “Alright, that’s it!”

You lower your flute and stare at him blankly as he stands and turns to glare at you, hands set firmly on his hips like a scolding parent. “You’re far too dismal! What happened to the Buoyant Balladeer? There’s no breeze in your playing at all!”

“I’m sorry if my heart is too heavy to play as light as the wind,” You retort, setting your flute back in its case. “I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied.”

Venti looks at you with a furrowed brow as you shut the case with a harsh snap. After a moment, his voice much softer, he asks, “Are you alright?”

You hesitate for a moment. “...yes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and doesn’t say anything else. After a pause, you groan and concede. “Alright, I’m miserable, so what? Let’s just get on with it.”

“We are most certainly not getting on with it,” He shoots back, turning to face you directly and crossing his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I can’t have my dear [Name] walking around with such a heavy heart. Come on, talk to me. What is it that weighs you down so?”

You stare at him for a long moment. He looks back at you almost unblinkingly, and try as you might to turn away and dismiss him again, there’s something about his wide green eyes that just compels you to tell the truth.

“I’m...afraid.” You say quietly. “It’s such a cliche thing to say, but I’ve really never felt this way before. I don’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Venti smiles reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. First loves are always scary.”

“I understand that, but…” You bury your face in your hands and groan. “...she’s just so perfect and I’m just so me and it just feels like it’d never work out.”

“Hey, I don’t like that tone!” He scolds lightly, reaching out and flicking you in the cheek. “No talking bad about yourself. Besides, who says it’d never work out? As far as we know, your feelings are mutual.”

“I seriously doubt that,” You sigh, raising your head once again.

Venti raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever asked?”

You’re quiet for another few moments. “...no…”

“Then how do you know what her answer will be?” He asks. “Why assume that it’ll be no?”

You open your mouth to respond, but something suddenly compels you to look over to the town square. Venti goes quiet beside you as you see Lisa, standing beneath the Anemo Archon statue with Razor beside her. She seems to be explaining something to him.

Razor seems to feel your gaze almost as soon as it lands on him and his mentor. His hair bristles, and he abruptly whips around to look at you, but as soon as he sees you, he seems to relax. He lifts a gloved hand to send you a brief wave; you hesitantly return it.

He turns around and tugs on Lisa’s sleeve; she pauses and turns around to follow his pointing finger. You hold your breath as your eyes meet hers.

She raises her hand, and there’s no mistaking it - she’s smiling. An eternity seems to pass within those few seconds of eye contact, and for once your heart isn’t beating in your throat, your breaths aren’t becoming shallow and uneven, you aren’t heating up and boiling over. Instead, you feel a kind of pleasant warmth well up inside you, and you can’t help but beam and wave back.

Lisa looks at you for another moment, smiles once more, then turns around and begins walking away, gently tapping Razor’s shoulder as she goes. He glances back between you and his teacher, then turns around and follows behind her.

A long silence stretches between you and Venti.

You take a deep breath and turn to look at him, and he immediately grins. Somehow, you get the feeling that he knows what you're going to say.

“I need you to help me write a love song.”

[depressed-celestial-body]

MHA MANGA/ANIME SPOILERS

TLDR: me rambling about a possible future scerios for Kurogiri and some hc to go along with them kinda

Also pls note that everything I know about the manga is from synopsis of it bc I personally struggle to read manga (all the panels blur together for me and I can never tell what order the text bubbles go in and it's just a struggle bro) so I apologise if all this isn't entirely accurate bc it's prolly not lol

Man ok so I mentioned before that I've been thinking about Kurogiri a lot right

So I personally don't think Shirakumo is coming back. Like he will always be a part of Kurogiri and I think he will start regaining some of Skirakumo's memories and emotions, but I don't think his overall personality or appearance will change all that much. What I'm hoping for is that the doctors working on him are able to loosen some of his programming a bit, but honestly, the whole point of it would be to just make him safe to release as a civilian. I mean obvi he's been a villain throughout the whole series, but it's not his fault. He was literally forced to do all of it. He was programmed to take care of Tomura by any means necessary, and that he did. So I don't think he really deserves to be punished.

Okay so here is a possible scenario that I want to happen:

Basically Aisawa and Hizashi keep visiting him and talking to him and shit and the doctors and psychiatrists do what they can, and eventually he just gets taken into UA (under very close supervision ofc). He's really not violent at all unless he's directly ordered to do something by OFA or ig Tomura (as far as I know). I feel like Nezu would end up not only allowing it, but I feel like he'd be one of the first people to suggest it. As UA's principal, he'd feel a sense of obligation toward Shirakumo since the academy failed to protect him all those years ago. Hizashi would be on board immediately, but Aisawa would be more hesitant because he'd be fearful for the students. Nemuri would be somewhere in between, but I think she'd eventually side with Hizashi.

So yeah he'd be at UA and it would be very strange and he'd have a lot of conflicting emotions. He'd probably be high key having an identity crisis at this point, wondering which thoughts and emotions were Oboro's, his own, or just programmed into him. This would be particularly troubling to him when it comes to Tomura. A part of him would probably dislike Tomura as a person. He's rude, reckless, bratty, and immature. On the other hand, as I mentioned earlier, he was literally programmed to take care of Tomura. But still, after being with the kid for so long, being there through the good, bad, and ugly, and watching him grow up, of course he's going to care deeply for him. He'll never stop loving that boy like a son. The UA staff probably knows that, and all they'll probably be able to do is distract him. I think that Eri would take a liking to him since he naturally just kinda has that concerned dad thing going on, and he'd end up babysitting her or something. He'd probably also like Bakugo because he's like an angrier but less homicidal version of Tomura. I think that interacting with the kids would probably be good for him. Taking care of spitfire children would probably make him feel a little less anxious since that was basically what he did with the LOV. And then, yet again, you have another series of conflicting emotions. He'd miss the LOV terribly and he'd be worried about them. At the same time, he would grow to care about the people within UA.

He'd feel drawn to Hizashi, Aisawa, and Nemuri for obvious reasons, and them to him. But I think he'd avoid them at first. What's left of Oboro would always try to take over when they were around, and Kurogiri would find that both physically and mentally agonizing. And every time one of them looked at him, he'd sense that they were speaking to Oboro, not him. That itself would probably hurt, especially since he knows that he can never be Oboro again. There isn't enough left of him. There's a part of his own psyche that blends into Oboro's, who of course has his own emotions about the situation. There's not much of him there, but it's enough for him to feel. Eventually, though, I like to think there would be a point where Oboro's besties would start seeing Kurogiri as just himself, and he'd tentatively respond in kind.

Okay imma mention a major character death now

After Nemuri's death, he'd probably feel so, so horrible and upset and he'd take it so poorly. He's usually a pretty calm person, so people would be kinda confused since he wasn't nearly as close to her as Aisawa and Mic were, but eventually everyone would kinda generally realize that this dude was experiencing the grief of two people at once: that of a close childhood friend, and that of someone who Nemuri had helped feel like a person.

Okay now time for a nicer headcanon

So when that asshat programmed him, he prolly did something interesting to his sleep schedule. To do his job effectively, Kurogiri might have to stay awake for days at a time during bad situations. For him to be able to do that, he is going to have to be able to compensate for that later. So my hc is that during periods of "inactivity", like when he feels generally safe and doesn't see anything to attend to, he just passes tf out sometimes. So during periods where he's feeling anxious, he probably just. Doesn't sleep, bc in his mind he's like "omg threat detected". But if you hug him for too long, he'll fall asleep on your shoulder. But like most of the time it's a p light sleep so he can be ready to take on anything that may try to sneak up on him or whatever, so sometimes it's hard to notice when this happens bc you can't really read his face and also he wakes up so easily. But occasionally, his body will simply say no 💜 and my mans will be OUT for like half the day or longer depending on how long he's gone without a proper rest. He can usually tell the difference between his lil micronaps and a Konk-Out as Present Mic starts calling it, and he will try SO HARD to fight it but he does not win ever.

This literally took me like an hour to type holy shit lol but anyways yeah

[hqbbg]

butterflies.

pairing: bokuto x chubby fem!reader

summary: bokuto doesn’t understand why everyone’s giving you a hard time.

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6K

warnings: people are mean to reader >:(

You saw many flaws about yourself growing up, whether they were first pointed out to you by your parents, schoolmates, or even the cashier lady at the supermarket. The one particular flaw that seemed to follow you around throughout all the years seemed to revolve around one thing: your weight.

Looking in the mirror, you used to not see what was so wrong with how your body looked. You truly didn’t think you looked as overweight as those around you made it seem, but their words began to contaminate your thoughts and soon, you saw what they saw: someone who simply did not fit into a conventionally “beautiful” body, a standard set by models on magazine covers.

Some people had called you cute while growing up, but as you sat in your classroom during your second year of high school alone while others had gone to join their friends, you most definitely felt like all the kind words people had told you before held no meaning or sincerity to them.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You’ve been hearing this every other day lately. It was always at the beginning of lunch time, give or take a few minutes depending on the day. The source of the brief disturbance to the white noise of the classroom was none other than Bokuto Koutarou, a third year. He always came to hang out with Akaashi, a classmate of yours that sat a few rows down from you.

You had seen Akaashi once or twice last year in the hallways, but never spoke to him, and even this year as his classmate, you barely exchanged any words. He seemed like a relatively quiet and observant person, so part of you wondered how he and Bokuto seemed so close yet were polar opposites.

You had been lost in your own thoughts, too busy staring off into space to notice a few classmates come up to sit at the desks around you.

“What, is our little piggy not hungry today?”

This was not unfamiliar territory for you. Once or twice throughout the week, a few students would get bored with themselves and decide to pick on you or taunt you. Usually, you would ignore them with your head hung low, and they would just get bored again, deciding to leave you alone until they saw another opportunity to mess with you.

Things like this used to bother you a lot more than they did now. Of course, their words would still keep you awake at night occasionally, but you’ve learned to move on.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to lose weight before; nothing just seemed to work. It was as if your body had reached its current weight and stubbornly refused to change, no matter how much your heart and mind willed it. Your mother would toss in a few comments here and there about how boys wouldn’t want you because of this complex of yours and your father wouldn’t stand up for you. You supposed they were right, since the only time boys were interested in talking to you was to either make fun of you or compare notes after class.

“Did you not hear us, piggy?”

“You guys are talking in her face, so I’m sure she heard you loud and clear.”

You snap your head up towards the source of the voice and see Bokuto looking over in your direction. He has an unreadable expression on his face and your eyes flicker towards Akaashi as he also looks in your direction, his face blank with indifference to the situation.

“With all due respect, this doesn’t concern you,” replies one of the boys sitting in front of you.

“How rude,” says Bokuto. “Akaashi, you never told me how mean your classmates were!”

The third year turns to look at Akaashi, a pout on his face as he points to the group around you. Any thoughts you had of him being cool for butting in and momentarily diverting the attention away from you have all disappeared and it seems that everyone’s mental image of the suave and cool upperclassman have collectively shattered.

“Everyone is mean to Y/L/N-san,” Akaashi replies coolly.

You have to admit, as much as that statement should irk you, it doesn’t because you know it’s true.

“Why?” Bokuto turns his head back and looks directly at you. You feel yourself stiffen in your seat. He blinks his eyes a couple times, as if he can’t understand what anyone could possibly be giving you a hard time for. Part of you finds it refreshing, but another part of you is skeptical.

“This guy’s weird,” mutters one of the girls next to you. “Let’s just go.”

You feel a little dumbstruck as you watch the students around you stand and walk away before your eyes slowly return back to the pair of boys who are still staring at you. You can feel your face heat up at the realization that their eyes haven’t left you yet and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat.

“T-Thanks.”

Before anyone else can say anything, you quickly grab your lunch and head out of the room, muttering halfhearted apologies to the students you bump into as you walk down the hall. You make your way to the rooftop where a few other groups of students are enjoying their lunch and find yourself a decent and secluded spot. Maybe the fresh air would cool you down and prevent yourself from overthinking the situation that had just unraveled.

The next few days, you avoid eating lunch in the classroom and go back to the spot on the rooftop; you aren’t disturbed there and find it quite peaceful. You get used to not hearing Bokuto’s unique greeting and things seem to slowly go back to how they used to be.

“Hey, long time no see!”

You glance up as you walk down the hall, seeing Bokuto walking towards you, presumably heading back to his class as you head for yours. Although you’re sure he’s addressing you, you glance around to ensure that it really is you he’s talking to.

“Yeah, you! You’re in Akaashi’s class,” Bokuto laughs heartily as he walks up to you, stopping only a few paces away. “You know, no one really answered me when I asked why everyone is so mean to you.”

You can only look up at him, unsure what exactly his motives might be. There’s no way he’s this oblivious, right? You’ve heard stories about him, being a remarkable volleyball player and assumed that he would be intelligent. Was that limited to just volleyball?

“I should get back to my class,” you reply, bowing your head halfheartedly before rushing back to your classroom.

Needless to say, you’re socially awkward. No one has really given you this much attention without throwing a blatant insult at your face, so you’re unsure how to handle it. It isn’t until a week later when you miss the timing of heading to the rooftop for lunch and see Bokuto enter the classroom, making a straight beeline to sit in the empty desk in front of you, facing you. Akaashi has also moved closer, sitting in the desk to your right, looking at you with the same indifferent expression on his face.

“So, I’ve really been trying to figure it out for the past week and a half,” says Bokuto, propping his elbow on your desk as he leans his chin onto his palm, “and I still don’t get it.”

Your eyes flicker back towards Akaashi, but he doesn’t move a muscle that indicates that he’s helping you get out of this situation.

“W-Well, I…”

What’s he talking about? What are you supposed to say?

“Are you mean? Is that it? You seem like a normal girl, so I really don’t understand why everyone treats you so poorly,” says Bokuto, not letting you finish your half-developed thought. Is he teasing you? Is this some cruel way of indirectly making fun of you?

“Do you really not see it?” You ask, finding some rare confidence spurred by the thought of his antics being motivated to hurt you like everyone else.

You finally look into his eyes and see no malice in them, quickly casting your eyes back down when you can feel yourself blushing at the innocent intensity of his eyes staring back at you.

“Is there something I should be seeing?”

“I,” you pause. You’re suddenly afraid to say your next sentence because it’s a thought that was drilled into your brain since you were younger, but say it anyways. “I’m fat.”

Bokuto frowns.

“So?”

Well, that wasn’t an answer you were expecting.

“Huh?” You look at him again, brows furrowing slightly.

“What he means is, he doesn’t see why that’s a reason for you to be bullied,” Akaashi speaks up. Bokuto nods his head quickly, realizing the mistake in his word choice.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant!”

You narrow your eyes slightly in suspicion.

“No, really, Y/N! You look perfectly fine to me.”

You try not to show your surprise upon hearing Bokuto say your name, but you’re not sure how well you hide it. You want to question how he knows your first name, but something tells you that the boy sitting to your right has something to do with it.

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

“If anyone gives you a hard time, let me know! I’ll take care of it for you,” Bokuto sits up, puffing his chest. You’re hesitant but feel your lips tug into the slightest smile.

“You don’t have to, Y/L/N-san. He’s all bark and no bite anyways,” says Akaashi. You feel your lips pull a little further into a smile. Bokuto looks like he’s about to complain or whine to Akaashi, but is stopped when he looks at your face.

“Wow, so you do know how to smile,” Bokuto grins at you. “You should do it more often. It suits you.”

That might’ve been the first time in your whole life to have ever felt butterflies in your stomach.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (5)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + soft joon cameo

words: 3.9k

      chapter five

You tossed and turned for half the night and when you finally managed to fall asleep, your phone buzzed with a text message. Sticking your hand out from under the covers, you kept your eyes closed as you looked for your phone and debated throwing it against the wall so you could keep sleeping.

Driven by some sort of a pathetic hope – what if it was him – you opened your eyes after all, only to see that the text came from a student in your Sociology class, Namjoon. You were supposed to work on a project with him and he was wondering if you were free to meet him at the library today.

“It’s Saturday,” you texted back sleepily, thanking the God for autocorrect, “I don’t mind but don’t you have plans?”

You put your phone back down, hoping to get at least a few more minutes of sleep, but another text message came in almost instantly.

“Everyone will flock to the library on Monday and pick out the best books,” Namjoon said in his text, “so I’d like to get a head-start. Would 9 work for you?”

Nine in the morning – considering that it was eight right now – was absolutely not going to work for you because you were still half-asleep and weren’t motivated enough to have breakfast, shower, make yourself look presentable, and drag yourself across campus in an hour. But you didn’t want to be a nuisance, so you texted back, “sure! See you at 9” and sighed your way into the dorm bathroom.

Thankfully, everyone else seemed to be still asleep, so you got the whole place to yourself and could shower for as long as you liked, without fearing that someone was going to rip off the curtain, separating your naked body from the rest of the room – it was the sort of fear that didn’t go away in all of the three years that you’d lived here.

The shower did wake you up but, with waking up, came the memories of last night and the disappointment that Inna had brought home.

Truthfully, what hurt you the most wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had presumably spent the night with some other girl but rather, the fact that he did so right after you decided not to purposefully sabotage your budding friendship with him and, instead, give it a chance to see what happened.

Well, you saw what happened and you didn’t like it one bit. So, on the other hand, maybe this was for the better. Clearly, there was still a lot of the old Jungkook – the one you knew and loved once upon a time – left in him, but there was also a part of him that you had never gotten to know – that was the part responsible for the end of your friendship seven years ago.

And, stepping out of the shower in your robe, you decided it’d be best to never get to know the foreign parts of him. Obviously, some of those feelings you’d had for him all of those years ago – actually, a lot of those feelings – had survived the long hiatus and were very much making a comeback – if they ever truly went away, that is – so it was best to quit before you got burned. Again.

And then, by a stroke of simply awful luck, you exited the communal bathroom only to see a familiar figure leave someone’s room down the hall. Being the only two people here, the two of you immediately took notice of each other, and you were starting to wish someone had ripped that shower curtain off so you could have died of embarrassment back there, instead of suffering through seeing Jungkook right here.

“Hi,” he said, just as surprised to see you here even though he walked you home yesterday and knew very well where you lived. “W-why are you up so early?”

“I have plans,” you said, your answer more curt than you’d intended. Being subtle would probably work better since you didn’t want him to know how hurt you were.

“Oh,” Jungkook said. He noticed that you didn’t ask why he was here which could only mean that you knew. “Can I walk you? I was on my way home anyway.”

“I’m not going out in a robe,” you said, “I still need to change.”

“Well, I can—I could wait,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans to hopefully stop them from clenching into fists. Your coldness was messing with him.

“No need,” you said, abandoning all hopes for subtlety, “I’m sure you’d rather get back to your—well, friend, I guess. She’s probably waiting for you inside.”

You wanted to walk past him into your own room – and would have done so, too, if you were only a little faster – but he was quick enough to get his hand out of his pocket and grab your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you jealous?” he asked and you began fuming at this—very observant and absolutely correct—accusation.

“What? I’m not jealous,” you lied loudly and proudly. “I just think it’s funny how you’re trying to get your life together one moment, and then go ahead and sleep around the next.”

He let go of your hand. “I—”

“If that’s your version of drinking responsibly,” you added with a scoff, “then I have to tell you, it’s not all that different from any other type of drinking you’d been doing since you started college.”

“Drinking—are you going to preach about absenteeism to me now?” he asked, suddenly focusing on the wrong thing. “That’s very closed-minded coming from someone like you. I thought you were—”

“I’m obviously not who you thought I were,” you cut him off again, even angrier now that he’d touched you – just like that time at the party last week – because, despite the circumstances, the softness of his skin felt outrageously nice.

“Okay, fuck!” he couldn’t help raising his voice. “I’m still trying to catch up on all that we’ve missed about each other.”

“Why?” you demanded. “Why does it matter?”

“Because we were friends once upon a time,” he quoted the words you’d said to him and you groaned as you recognized them.

“Once upon a time was a long time ago,” you said. “Maybe what’s in the past should stay in the past.”

Jungkook had gotten into physical fights more times than he could count and yet he’d never gotten punched just by someone’s words until now. It hurt and, frankly, he’d have preferred it if you’d socked him in the eye instead. At least that way you could both could see the damage done.

“Right. Well, in that case, it’s really none of your business how or how often I’m drinking,” he said, his hurt feelings coming out in chilly, stone-hard sentences and you’d already heard him tell you something like this before. You should have listened and hung up the phone as soon as he called to apologize about it.

“Hey,” you raised your hands in defense, “you’re the one who called me last night.”

“I was drunk,” he shot back, his voice as cold as yours had been, “I barely even remember it. Don’t think it means anything or gives you the permission to—”

Not realizing what excellent liars you both were when you were angry, you allowed yourself to listen to him until his words started to sting too much.

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said then, turning around to go back to your room. He didn’t try to stop you this time. “I never thought it meant anything.”

You were late to meet Namjoon at the library because, after having closed the door of your room, you didn’t dare to come back out into the hall even after you dressed up and got ready, in case Jungkook had lingered. But it all turned out to be just wishful thinking – he probably left as soon as you went inside – and there was no sign of him anywhere when you did finally come out.

Well, that was that. This time last week, you had been on your way to visit Jungkook at the hospital, and now your very unsuccessful attempt at reconnecting had ended. 

You should have seen it coming, it’s been far too long. Pretending that it hasn’t and rebuilding your friendship on memories had, clearly, not worked.

“So sorry I’m late,” you announced to Namjoon when you finally reached the library, all out of breath and with a very poorly hidden bad mood.

“It’s alright,” Namjoon replied, showing you his cup of coffee, “I stopped by the café next-door, so I just got here myself,” he said and then realized, “oh! I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what—”

“Oh, no, there’s no need,” you plopped down into a seat opposite him. “I had a quick cup before I left the dorm. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded and, taking a sip of his beverage, gave you a look that he’d hoped appeared as nonchalant and not at all suspicious – even though it was – and, as soon as he placed his cup down on the table between you, he inquired somewhat awkwardly, “are you okay?”

You were busy taking your backpack off and putting it on a chair next to you, so his question took you off guard.

“Hmm?” you turned to give him a look. “I’m fine, why? Is it about being late? I was just—”

“No, no, it’s just that—well, nevermind. I thought you looked upset,” he said and then regretted ever bringing it up. His perception had gotten him labeled as creepy several times before. “Sorry if that’s out of line for me to say.”

“No, it’s, uh—” you looked down, unsure if pouring your heart out to someone who was virtually a stranger to you was such a great idea since you obviously sucked at making – or, well, remaking – friends. “I am somewhat upset, I guess. I got into a fight with—with a friend before I left. But I promise it won’t interfere with my work!”

“Ah. Sorry to hear that,” Namjoon said and he sounded genuine, which was nice, considering he didn’t have to try so hard for someone who was just his partner for a Sociology project.

“Yeah,” you spoke and allowed the quiet atmosphere of the library on this early Saturday morning to engulf you both before finally saying, “anyway. Do you have the literature list, perhaps? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“I have it on my phone,” he said and, in an attempt to sit up straight and pull his phone out from his back pocket at the same time, he spilled some of his drink on the table. “Oh, shit, uh—sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, reacting immediately and reaching for a pack of tissues you always carried in the outer pocket of your backpack. You extended it for him. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he took one out and wiped his own hand first before cleaning the drink off the table.

“Is your hand okay?” you asked. “The coffee seems to be hot.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said with an awkward laugh. He’d already showcased enough of his inability to function as a normal human, he didn’t want you to have to deal with the stinging pain of his palm, too. “So, anyway, as I was saying, I have the list on my phone. I can send it to you and then we can split up to find the books faster.”

“Okay. That sounds great!”

And it really was great because, aside from being somewhat clumsy – he spilled his coffee again when he was pushing his chair back to get up from his seat and then dropped his phone as he was attempting to clean the new puddle – Namjoon was also an honest, dedicated worker and you appreciated that. You’d already had to work on many projects with peers who were more than happy to let you do all the work.

“I love the library at a time like this,” Namjoon told you from the other side of the book shelf as you two began to freely roam the near-empty library, browsing for books. “Not crowded with people, I mean.”

“Yeah, I love it, too,” you agreed. “But I don’t get to see it often, to be honest. I’m one to jump on the bandwagon and come here when everyone else comes.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, usually, I’m like that, too. But I started coming on weekends recently. It’s blissfully empty here, especially in the morning.”

“Everyone’s probably hungover,” you observed. “Parental Advisory had one of their usual ragers last night.”

“Ah, yes,” Namjoon nodded and then, somehow hesitantly, asked, “why weren’t you there?”

He made it sound as though you were supposed to be there and, for a minute, you wondered if your very few public conversations with Jungkook ended up bringing more attention to you and him than you’d realized.

“I—well, I don’t really go to those things,” you admitted, “it’s not really for me. I was home, binging on TV shows instead.”

He laughed – not mockingly but rather, understandably. Like he could relate.

“That’s my usual weekend, too,” he said then, confirming your thoughts and you gave him a smile through the gap between the books on the shelves. “I’ve been catching up on the movies I’ve missed during mid-terms.”

“Oh?” you picked one book up to check the edition and then put it back after realizing it wasn’t the right one. “Did you watch anything last night?”

“I tried to give the Kristen Stewart movie a shot,” he replied, dragging his finger on the spines of the books as he looked for the one he needed. “But it didn’t do it for me.”

“Underwater?” you asked. You had dragged Inna to see this movie in the theater with you. “I didn’t like that one, either. Even though Kristen Stewart was, predictably, great.”

“Oh, you’ve seen it, too?” he seemed surprised as he stopped and glanced at you over the shelves.

“Yeah, horror movies are much more my thing than campus parties,” you said.

“Really?” now he was properly intrigued. “Mine, too.”

You stopped browsing as well and your eyes met even if your bodies were separated by shelves of books. Not wanting to make this awkward, Namjoon didn’t let his gaze linger for too long before he looked back at his phone and continued his search for books.

“What would you say were your Top 3 horror movies of the last few years?” he asked, not just to keep the conversation going, but also because he was genuinely curious. He hadn’t met a lot of other people who were into horror.

“Only three?” you put your hands on your hips, deep in thought. “Okay. I’d choose Get Out, Us… and Midsommar.”

Namjoon wrinkled his nose at this. “Midsommar? Really?”

“Yeah,” you looked at him in confusion. “Why? It was good!”

“Well, it wasn’t bad,” he said, “but it just… I don’t know, it didn’t have enough horror elements for me. You do have good taste, though. Get Out is definitely one of the few late-decade films worthy of its’ horror genre.”

You couldn’t deny that but felt like you had an addition, “I actually quite liked Hereditary, too. It was different from what I usually watch.”

“Is that the one with the actress from The Sixth Sense?” he asked as he pulled a book from the shelf nearby to check the cover.

He was truly proving to be a project partner sent from heavens as you squealed, forgetting the library rules for a minute, “Toni Collette! Yes!”

He turned around, surprised by your excited tone.

“You liked The Sixth Sense?” he asked with a laugh, then.

“Loved it,” you said, still overwhelmed by the realization that you two seemed to share the same taste in movies. “It’s one of the best movies out there, in my opinion.”

“I think it might just be,” he agreed. “I’ve never seen Hereditary, though.”

You stopped walking and turned to him with wide eyes. “No. Are you serious? It’s terrible! I mean, terrible as in, I had to look away from the screen several times and I’m not one that gets fidgety during horror movies. That really proves how good it is.”

“Ah, yes, as the rating for horror movies goes – boring, decent, bad, terrible,” he counted with his fingers as you both laughed. “No, I don’t know, I just somehow never got around to watch it.”

“I have it on my computer,” you found yourself saying, “if we wrap this project up quickly enough, we could watch it. If you’d like.”

“I’d love that,” he said, smiling, and then stopped himself, “although, I don’t think the library allows that sort of activity here.”

“Oh. No, I guess not,” you thought about it for a moment and then came up with a plan, “well, are you free on Monday? We could work on the project at my dorm and watch the movie then. My roommate has classes in the afternoon, so it’ll be quiet.”

You hadn’t even realized that you were inviting a guy you’d almost literally just met over to your room and neither had Namjoon as he considered your offer – trying to remember his own schedule for Monday – and then nodded. 

Truthfully, he didn’t even consider that there could have been some concealed intentions behind your invitation – he genuinely wanted to watch this movie with you since it seemed to have left an impression on you.

“Okay, yeah,” he said finally. “Monday sounds good. I’ll bring my books.”

“Great!” you’d have clapped your hands together if you weren’t holding three books and your phone. “I’ll bring the movie.”

Shortly, the two of you had finished your search for the books for the project and Namjoon excused himself – apparently, his drunk roommate had lost his keys and couldn’t get home – agreeing to meet you at your dorm on Monday.

You didn’t even realize it until you sat down by the table to put the books into your backpack but discussing your favorite movies with Namjoon had helped you forget all about your fight with Jungkook. Smiling solemnly to yourself, you concluded that you were actually feeling surprisingly well right now in comparison to how disheveled you’d been when you first arrived here.

Deciding that it was your choice how to feel about your second falling-out with Jungkook, you chose to move past it with surprising swiftness. If a good conversation was what it would take for you to forget about him, then you were just going to have to find more interesting people to talk to. Inna, once she sobered up, would work perfectly.

You’d have probably succeeded at this plan if it weren’t for the two girls that just arrived to the library, sunglasses and paper cups of coffee in hand. You merely glanced at them, choosing not to say hi even though you thought you’d seen them around the dormitory, as they sat down a few seats away from you.

“Okay, listen, why does it matter that he left early?” one of them was saying as you pulled the zipper of your backpack, opening it up. “Everyone still knows that you went home with Jungkook last night.”

That’s when you froze, focusing all of your energy into not turning around to look at them again. 

One of these girls was the girl whose room Jungkook had left this morning.

“Yeah, but so what?” she replied to her friend. You knew you had to keep putting the books into your backpack or else you’d look weird just sitting here, obviously listening. But moving with minimal noise, so you’d still be able to hear them, was difficult. “Nothing happened between us.”

“I mean, not nothing,” her friend countered and then hesitated, “you did kiss, right?”

“Yeah, but—I don’t know. We kind of did,” her friend said and you found yourself drowning in waves of hotness. You decided you should probably go if you wanted to still have a chance at the swift-moving-on you’d planned. “But it was really more me, kissing him. He didn’t even—he was just there, you know what I mean?”

“Was he drunk?”

“No—well, yeah, we both were,” she giggled. You mentally gagged as you hurriedly stuffed the books into your bag. “But he was sober enough to recognize where I lived.”

“He knew where you lived? Girl, that’s good!” her friend clapped her hands together.

“No, but he didn’t, he just—he knew someone in the building,” she said. You sat up straight suddenly and the two girls stopped talking. Trying to play it cool, you coughed nervously and pushed your chair back, standing up. They carried on, “anyway, I think he just went with me because he wanted to visit that friend who lived there. But he tripped over the door on our way in, and I said that maybe we should stop at my place first, I could get him a drink or something. He said, ‘yeah,’ so we went and… he fell asleep basically as soon as he entered my room.”

“What? Seriously?” her friend asked as you zipped up your bag.

“Yeah,” the girl said. “I sat him down on my bed, left to pick up some snacks from the mini-fridge, and when I came back, he was full-on snoring.”

“Shit. Maybe he’s sick or something.”

The girl wasn’t so sure. “Or maybe he’s just not into me.”

Choosing not to listen anymore or else they’d have to notice you loitering, you picked up your backpack and headed for the exit. Your mind was buzzing and even the walk across campus to your dormitory didn’t help make it stop.

Apparently, Jungkook hadn’t slept with the girl that brought him home – he just let you assume he had. Not that you’d given him a chance to deny it, to be fair, accusing him of sleeping around one second and drinking himself blind the next.

It was clear that you’d overreacted and, in a moment of weakness, you considered calling him to apologize. But then you stopped and reconsidered – he’d told you it wasn’t your business to worry about his drinking. He’d told you his late-night phone call meant nothing and that he could barely even remember it.

So, maybe the argument in the hallway meant nothing to him, too. Maybe you were the only one still thinking about it while Jungkook was already off, doing whatever he did Saturday mornings because, God knew, moving on came easy to him.

Deciding that it was time you listened to him when he told you not to get involved in his decisions, you exhaled shakily and put your phone back in your pocket. 

There was no point to apologize to him about anything.

It was over.

keep reading | masterlist

[linkspooky]

The Kids Aren’t Alright

There are several things wrong with Bakugo’s mindset in the most recent chapters, and I think they can all be effectively summed up in this image. 

 Bakugo’s focus is still being stronger than the bad guys, rather than on saving people. It’s still all about winning to him. 

Bakugo makes a selfish and bull headed decision to charge right into danger due to his own personal trauma.

Bakugo’s trauma is still unresolved. Rather than coming to terms with what happened to him, he’s still stuck in the mindset that if he had just been stronger then the traumatizing incident would never have ahppened to him. He’s literally in a sense fighting his trauma and trying to punch it in the face rather than processing his feelings. 

I’ll go more in depth under the cut. 

1. The Kids Aren’t Alright

The decision to charge after Shigaraki reflects poorly on both Bakugo and Deku’s characters, and shows character regression for both of them. There’s a difference between being heroic, and making a suicide charge and the difference lies in every single person telling Deku and Bakugo not to run at Shigaraki, and the both of them blatant ignoring that sound and logical advice. 

This arc so far has been about the regression of the heroes. This applies not only to the professional heroes, but also the next generation who are set up to fix the flaws of the previous generation. However, and I hope this is what Horikoshi is setting up, it’s impossible to fix those flaws if the characters don’t even see those flaws in the first place. We are shown several times characters carrying a serious case of hero worship that blinds them tot he faults of their mentors.

When asked to think for himself by the villain, Tokoyami’s black and white vision of heroics is so extreme that he can’t even criticize Hawks. Hawks had to have been right, because the heroes are always right in the end. The fact that the heroes are above criticism at all times prevents the next generation from learning of their faults. 

This is also something that has been set up previously, All Might keeps secrets from Deku like his fallout with Nighteye because he was afraid it would make him look bad to his protege. Bakugo has been shown to have a completely different interpretation of All Might than Deku, to the point where it was called into question what he saw in All Might might have been wrong. 

Bakugo was set up to learn something, and he didn’t, and that’s character regression. Characters don’t always move forward, sometimes they stall, or even fall back. If this arc really is about the regression of hero society than it makes sense that this conflict is completely unresolved. As you said, Eraserhead and All Might both said they needed to do more to address Bakugo’s trauma about being kidnapped, and taking the blame for All Might’s end and yet six months later he is still blaming himself. 

The reason Bakugo is holding onto his feelings all this time is a complicated one and has entirely to do how Bakugo copes with his trauma. This has been a running theme with Bakugo since the beginning of the manga. Bakugo reflects the ideas of hero society, and because Bakugo believes himself to be strong due to having a flashy quirk, he thinks there is no situation where he should feel weak. He always assumes he can overcome everything simply by getting stronger, and trying harder. It’s why the expectations on him are so monumentally high. 

This is not only an idea that Bakugo has of himself, he’s also treated this way by everyone around him. When he’s kidnapped by a villain nobody stops to check if he’s okay, they just compliment him on his quirk and say how strong he was. Because he is strong he is expected to always be strong. To the point where Bakugo’s kidnapping on live television is brought up as a point of embarrassment and shame for him, rather than a point where he nearly died. 

Bakugo has internalized this idea that he can’t let anyone make him feel weak, and he can’t feel weak ever, due to the way people around him are always treating, and also his own personal failure at learning how to process his emotions. In the past Bakugo projected his feelings of weakness onto Deku and beat him up rather than try to address his own personal failings. 

Bakugo is strong, so Deku has to be weak. Bakugo is important, so Deku has to be a pebble of the side of the road. It’s also a repeat of the same biases that hero society has shown him, Bakugo gets special treatment because he has a strong quirk, Deku is put down because he’s quirkless. 

All of these unhealthy attitudes have been passed onto Bakugo and it’s left him completely unable to process his trauma. In his book if he was strong he never would have gotten kidnapped in the first place. Therefore, the only way for him to solve the problem is to get stronger. To simplify, a lot of times trauma is about control. Being kidnapped by villains meant Bakugo was completely out of control in the situation. He’d always like to imagine he’s in control, and capable of winning if he’s strong enough. Even when he was kidnapped, Bakugo kept acting like all he needed was for them to drop their guard down and he would escape. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he was scared and in need of saving. 

The key to that involves admitting that he’s not in control, admitting to his weakness, but Bakugo does not want to do that so instead he’s just gotten stronger and stronger. However, Bakugo negatively foils another character who was unable to admit to his weakness and because of that hurt everyone around him. 

Endeavor and Bakugo reflect one another in that they both have super unhealthy attitudes in regards to their own strength. This is also a parallel that was deliberately set up by the plot. 

All Might compared him and Endeavor as similiar heroes, and Bakugo even directly said he came here to reflect on the differences between him and Endeavor and how he can be better, and Bakugo just didn’t do that. We see the reason he didn’t as well, he was so fixated on strength that he thought he was done growing when he beat up a bad guy faster than Endeavor for once. 

Bakugo’s goal was once again focused entirely in developing his own strength, not caring about his emotional development at all. And so we see, Bakugo has literally no reaction to learning that Endeavor could have murdered his own son, but he reacts this much to just being faster than Endeavor. Bakugo’s priorities are still entirely on physical strength and not emotional strength because due to trauma he thinks if he were just physically strong he would have overcome that situation. Thus he regresses. 

2.  Oh No, You’re Just Another Brick in the Wall

The kids are failing to learn lessons but also adults are failing to teach them. There are several instances of this in this arc alone, and in the leadup to this arc. As you said, Eraserhead had like six months to work with Bakugo, and Bakugo still feels like it’s his fault that All Might retired and he has to fix it, so clearly Eraserhead did nothing. 

All Might is someone who has noticed the similarity between Bakugo and Enji but fails completely to notice Endeavor’s flaws, and how those things make him a bad hero. Not only does Bakugo still hold onto the idea that physical strength is what matters most over emotional strength, but every hero around him believes that as well. 

The Public Hero Safety Commission is forcing the kids into internships. Endeavor only starts mentoring the kids because the hero safety commission says it’s in his best interest. The healthy development of the children is not their number one priority here, but rather how they can be used as soldiers for the upcoming battlefield. Soldiers don’t need have well-developed emotions, they just need to be strong, and fight the thing you tell them to fight. 

Every single adult hero in the system, including Hawks who is a child soldier himself seems to think that physical strength means that it’s okay to put literal teenagers on a battlefield where extremely dangerous serial killers are going to try to kill them, and yes it’s different from normal hero work because normal hero work heroes are not allowed to kill no matter what. It’s been made clear several times already this arc is a war zone, and heroes are fighting for life or death stakes with killing intent towards the villains. 

Bakugo’s failure of growth also represents a failure on the part of the heroes because he actually shares several flaws in common with his mentors. Aizawa and Bakugo have the exact same trauma response. The reason they lose, and lose people is simply because they weren’t strong enough. They take all of the blame on themselves. 

Aizawa admits that people have died saving his life, but his survivor’s guilt is too much for him to bear. So, he tries to fix his trauma in the way that Bakugo does. He tries to simply be stronger. If he’s stronger next time then he won’t lose, and he’ll never have to lose anyone ever again. 

Not only is Aizawa’s power fantasy a bad way to handle his emotions because he’s disrespecting the sacrifices of both Crustle and Oboro who wanted him to live (he’s even going so far as to totally disrespect Oboro who is still alive as Kurogiri, by destroying his precious student he looked after like a lost kitten. In other words Aizawa is killing the cat rather than saving it.) It’s not actually about them, it’s about Aizawa’s own feelings of hurt. Just like Bakugo’s bullying, his obsessive quest to be stronger, are all about his own hurt feelings and not what’s best for others. Not only is he failing to come to terms with his own feelings he’s also decidedly unheroic. 

Aizawa’s interest is not in saving someone, but rather revenge. Like he’s the Dark Knight or the Punisher. Aizawa’s positive qualities all lie in how he can understand the needs of children, and take care of them, and yet he’s doing the opposite of that in trying to kill an abused child. 

Aizawa’s completely tunnel visioned view of the world (just like Bakugo’s) also leads to his own hypocrisy. He needs to live, and he thinks dying is the worst thing of all so he tries to teach students that simply throwing your life away isn’t heroic - and yet here he is making a suicide charge five seconds after his life was saved. He wants to protect his students, but he also lets the Hero Commission bring a bunch of sixteen year olds who have not been properly informed or consented to this at all (and legally cannot consent) to a warzone where people are trying to kill them. 

Aizawa fails to notice the flaws in hero society and correct them, and because of this while he’s talking about how he would do anything to protect his students, Bakugo and Deku disobey direct orders to run away from Shigaraki, and charge straight at him in a suicide charge. Bakugo has failed to learn his lesson, and Aizawa has failed to teach it, and if it continues this way Hero Society can’t improve it will only stagnate.