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#also what do i have an ungodly amount of screens for if not to subject them upon this blog
tiredassmage · 1 year
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and a little theron to round out the thursday
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id-kneel-for-loki · 2 years
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hot take about the reoccurring problem with phase 4
okay hear me out- I know I've personally heard quite a bit of people talk about their dissatisfaction with many of the new shows and movies that marvel has been pumping out, and I just wanted to articulate one of the reasons why this has been happening. In particular, I want to highlight the reason why so many of the shows leave me (and others) with an uncomfortable feeling.
It's because of the way they treat the characters that have been established over years.
At this point in the mcu, it’s very apparent and obvious that each project is a buildup for a future project, and because of this, they want to introduce new “replacements” for the main characters of the shows. Very often, the shows spend more time focusing on the obvious replacement than actually exploring the backstory of the heroes that we’ve been following for years now. 
now, I don’t want to completely push this aside because in some instances, it’s worked. I’m personally a really big fan of Yelena and how she’s portrayed. However, they use this “bait-and-switch” technique in almost every. single. show.
but the bigger issue that I think people have is the way that the shows undermine and demean the “main characters” to build up their “replacements”. To build a strong character, it’s not necessary to humiliate an already established and beloved character. a strong character should have an arc that focuses on exploring their weaknesses, rather than an arc showing how they’re better and superior than someone else. 
for example, in the “loki” show, there’s quite a bit of emphasis on how much stronger sylvie is than loki, even though in the context of the mcu it doesn’t make sense. loki is a frost giant that could take on captain america and other heroes in the first avengers movie, has an unexplored potential of magical powers, and is cunning and mischievous- and yet he is defeated so easily by tva agents. the fact that he got pushed around so easily (especially in the loop cycle) just doesn't make any sense to me. the show spends an ungodly amount of time emphasizing the difference in strength between loki and Sylvie, and I think that building up Sylvie’s character could have been done in a much better way that didn’t leave everyone wondering where the hell angry, hell-bent-on-revenge 2012 loki was. and my god, don’t even get me started on the selfcest. 
the most prominent example, though, would probably be the first episode of “she-hulk”, where Jen argues that because she gets catcalled and ‘mansplained’ to, she has to deal with suppressing her anger infinitely more than bruce. now mind you, bruce is the same guy who has been subject to government experimentation, on the run from shady-ass government organizations for years, has tried to commit suicide by sticking a gun in his mouth and failed, and has lost some of his closest friends and loved ones. the sad thing is, this was such a missed opportunity because instead of spouting some bullshit answer about what makes her angry, Jen could have used this moment to talk about having to suppress her anger as a lawyer when she sees murderers walk free, defending people who are in the wrong because she got paid to do so, innocent people being locked up or charged incorrectly. but no, that would ground the show in too much reality because apparently, the writers of the show didn’t even do their homework about any legal jargon. I really wish I was kidding, but unfortunately I'm not. also, how does it make sense that a guy who has punched an enormous alien space whale in the face get run over and pushed to the side by a jeep??
the writers of these shows shit on characters that are loved by audiences to build up new characters, and that is one of the biggest issues that people have with the writing. also, the many of the hit-and-miss jokes don’t make the dialogue any better. 
I understand that the mcu is heavily focusing on bringing in new faces to the screen, but in doing so, they are ruining already established characters that are the reason many people watch these shows in the first place. 
sorry for the long rant, but I really had to get this off my chest
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nodominion · 2 years
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DV and Sunday night (10/23/22)
Even though I’ve been an active member of this fandom since 2014, I often feel like I can’t speak on meta or fandom issues. I have half of a Dune comparison to IWTV (2022) in my drafts that I can’t quite finish. But this is far too big for me to just like posts on.
This Sunday, we saw two episodes released that portray DV on screen. HOTD shows Daemon choking his wife, Rhaenyra. IWTV shows Lestat beating up, smashing through walls, forcibly drinking from, and dropping from an ungodly height his husband, Louis. One of these things is not like the other.
I’ve seen takes on Daemon both ways, but in the end, while I did not enjoy seeing DV portrayed on screen in HOTD, I understand where the character was coming from. He’d been told that his brother kept a secret from him and told Rhaenyra instead. He’s feeling grief from losing that brother, and his stillborn daughter, and trying to plan a war that Rhaenyra doesn’t seem to want yet. He also benefits from the patriarchal system of the ASOIAF universe, and sees no problem hurting his wife to get his way. He does not choke her hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to show her that even though she may be Queen, she should still be subservient to him as his wife. Is that right? No. Is that the point? Yes.
Lestat takes an entirely different approach. Sure, he feels like he isn’t loved. And someone can argue with me that what we saw on screen was an exaggeration, or unreliable narrator, or even a dream. But we as viewers were subjected to see abuse that was nauseating on our screens. The amount of blood and gore was not in service of the plot. Horror should shock, should scare, but not when it is done in a way that mirrors real life abuse. Not when it leaves the audience unprepared for what is coming. I’m glad I was vaguely warned by others that some form of domestic violence was coming, but AMC didn’t give us the ability to brace ourselves. AMC thought this would be received well, I have to assume. 
I’m not saying that DV should never be portrayed in media. And I think the HOTD example on the same night as IWTV proves that. I can see why Daemon lashes out. I don’t see why Lestat does. Nothing that happens to Lestat justifies the level of abuse shown on screen, and nothing in the episode prepares us for the outrageous violence we are shown between lovers. 
AMC has been trying to mollify the fandom for months by saying this is meant to be a more faithful adaptation than the movie. I gave them the benefit of the doubt for three episodes. Episode four I hated, but I gave them one more shot. I am paying money for the godforsaken streaming service that I watch nothing else on because I love this fandom more than any other. No more. I will pirate my episodes from now on, because AMC and Rolin Jones do not respect the work of Anne Rice. 
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demcnsinmymind · 2 years
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IMPORTANT HEADCANONS TO CONSIDER
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CAN THEY USE CHOPSTICKS: Surprising myself with this but yes, he can! I don’t even know what else to say. He can/could use them and used them with the appropriate dish. That’s it. That’s the headcanon. He’s boring.
WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY CAN’T SLEEP: pre canon: Grab his notebook (paper) from the bedside table. Start writing down more ideas, stories, plotlines, drafts, whatever. Just brainstorming. If that doesn’t tire him out after a while, he’ll get back up and sit back down in front of his computer to either edit more footage, write more emails, or work on more proper scripts. Maaaaaybe every once in a while he’ll read a few more pages from his various cinematography/ history of cinema nerd books or biographies about his idols in filmmaking. But mostly, he’ll just keep working. canon: keep the camera rolling and keep talking to it about whatever comes to his mind. Updates. Useless plans on how to get out, his own state of mind. Talking to a camera just brings him great comfort, so that’s all he does while everybody else sleeps all thanks to the immense exhaustion. Out of everyone involved, he’s probably slept the least though. post canon: during the early stages after he got out, he’ll just go/stay outside and go for long walks or even runs. Though he’ll stick to the outer corners of the sidewalks or to alleyways and won’t enter any buildings/restaurants/shops, he’ll try to find the places that are still bustling with people and life. He won’t talk to any of them, but he likes to be outside and among people, anything that’s the opposite of him lying alone somewhere in a dark room. A few months to many years after getting out, he’ll still do that a lot, but he’ll also have rediscovered his love for film. He’ll watch silly romcoms or talkshows on television, anything light and ‘normal’. Many years into post canon, he’ll also be comfortable enough with the idea of being inside cinemas and theatres, so he’ll also watch a lot of things on the big screen/stage to keep himself busy when he can’t sleep.
WHAT WOULD THEY IMPULSE BUY AT THE GROCERY STORE: An ungodly amount of flaming hot cheetos and red bull.
WHAT ORDER DO THEY WASH THINGS IN THE SHOWER: Hair first, then the important bits, followed by the rest of his body. Also he’s a scrubber. And spends way too much time in the shower/bath. You bet he also does facemasks. I won’t go as far as to say that he does a full blown Patrick Bateman routine, but if his canon never happened and his show really took off, he might’ve gotten close to that one.
WHAT’S THEIR COFFEE ORDER: Black coffee. No extras, no time, just the damn coffee, thank you.
WHAT SORT OF APPS WOULD THEY HAVE ON THEIR SMARTPHONE: If his canon never happened and he knew how to use a modern smartphone: too many. Mail and calendar apps being the most important ones. Also Excel, Word and whatnot. And all the filmmaker apps for the most common camera models for calculation purposes. Helios Pro (an app that tracks sunlight with golden hours and blue hours and whatnot). Business networking stuff like LinkedIn, Twitter and co. Reddit with a crapload of filmmaking/finance subreddits he’s subbed to. Youtube and Vimeo obv. Studiobinder. Insta for inspiration, networking and thirsting. Hook up apps like Tinder, Pure & co
HOW DO THEY ACT AROUND CHILDREN: Awkward and stiff, but somewhat okay if he’s subjected to them in a strictly controlled and short time frame. He’ll try to make friendly but adult conversation asking them about what they like, movies and comics/whatnot. But god forbid he has to spend proper time with kids for more than an hour or so. He’ll grow tired of their shit and get pissy. Not violent, abusive or anything and he certainly won’t act like a bully. But it’ll be obvious how much kids annoy the shit out of him eventually.
WHAT WOULD THEY WATCH ON TV WHEN THEY’RE BORED AND NOTHING THEY REALLY LIKE IS ON: A random animal/world/space/war documentary or whatever. The news. Stock market stuff. Dumb and simple comedies
Stolen from: @griim Tagging: @taintedone @walriding @badassxbirdy @huntresscaraquinn @setitallaflame​ @innerwar @orphanedshadow @demonstigma @adeathsentence & anyone else who wants to!
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Mandela Catalogue and the horror of not knowing 'why'
I'm gonna preface this by saying I impulsively scrawled this down on a whim- this is clumsy and prolly full of grammar mistakes. Sorry about that :/
I honestly have never encountered an analogue horror series that had an impact on me like Mandela Catalogue.
I'm a bit of an avid horror fan, so I am a little desensitised to the tropes, the scares and the stories. I think horror is actually quite a hard genre to write because it's very easy to fall into the formulaic way of doing things and also difficult to create a compelling story with the right amount of twists and turns, plus you're doing all this while also trying to actually scare people. Horror always seeks to make impact and because it's frantically firing rounds here, there and everywhere, it's really hard to hit the target.
This is where the Mandela Catalogue comes in... but I'll take a quick side to talk about another horror franchise so we can get a better idea of what the hell I'm getting at lol.
When the first FNAF game came out, I was enthralled by the horrific idea of dead children haunting animatronic suits, aimlessly wandering about in hopes of getting their revenge on their killer. The subject of the Purple Guy was such a massive topic way back when, that it was hard to avoid the character. Best of all though, it was hard to work out why he did it. Why did he commit such a heinous crime? What was he getting out of it? We didn't even know his name, let alone his personality, his reasoning or his face.
The mystery of 'why' was the biggest piece missing from the puzzle, teasing us at what we didn't know. And to add salt to the wound, what we didn't know outweighed what we did. 'Why were things they way they were? Why did the Purple Guy do what he did?' was what certainly frightened me back then.
An unanswered question is something I'll always find more terrifying. As humans, I think we're constantly wanting to rationalise everything- it's just who we are, we like explaining things away. So when someone or something commits an action out of the norm with no particular explanation, it frightens us.
'Why' is what made FNAF scary. And explaining that 'why' so elaborately has taken some of that horror away. Now, I'm still invested in FNAF and will always be happy to engage with new instalments, works and whatnot, but unfortunately, I'm not enjoying it as much as I used to because things have become so convoluted and entwined. Putting names to faces, family troubles and sci-fi concepts like Remnant, have kind of taken that grounded-horror-feel away from the original franchise. Now, that's not to say FNAF is a shadow of its former self, I just personally am not as into it as I once was, and I think that's because of the lack of mystery. I'm no longer asking 'why'. I'm more of just staring at the screen with knitted eyebrows as I wonder how the hell Fazbear Entertainment hasn't gone under already at this rate of innumerable scandals attributed to its name... maybe that company is just as stubborn as Afton, who knows.
Mandela Catalogue on the other hand, has exploited our fear of the unknown excellently. I am genuinely terrified of the main antagonist of this series, a.k.a Satan (though it is up for debate as to whether he is Satan, an alien or even fallen Gabriel but I'll be going along the lines that he's the devil).
Satan has always been a fascinating concept to me, partly because I've always been intrigued by the idea of something so ungodly even its own creator isn't really sure what to do with him, but also because we don't really know his whole story. Satan is hardly mentioned in the Bible, he's kind of elaborated on in other scriptures but again, not much is known about him other than that he's the bad guy and he's not gonna win in the end because no one can withstand the might of God.
Mandela Catalogue, uses that fear of unequivocal evil compounded with mystery to make Satan terrifying. What I love about the series is we don't see much of Satan and we don't know why the fuck he's doing what he's doing.
All we know us that he's executing his plan and we're bearing the brunt of it. And that's frightening on an existential level.
He knows what's going on, he's doing whatever he's doing, he knows why he's doing it and we don't.
That's how you do horror like this. You don't tell your audience 'why'.
Now, we can try to give some reasoning, using reference to previous depictions of Satan and also the Bible itself to suggest that maybe he's taking revenge on God, or maybe that he wants to be God, or that perhaps he's jealous that Jesus is the new favourite and lashing out at him, but we can't definitively take these reasons as gospel (pardon the pun :P).
That's what's so scary, we don't know why, we can't explain this and because we can't explain this... we can't predict, we can't prepare and we can't understand.
Mandela Catalogue exploits our need for reason to create a villain so terrifying that he hardly ever needs to show up- we can just behold his work and dread.
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Top 10 Controversial Horror Films That Are Famous For All The Wrong Reasons *gags* *cries*
At the beating heart of horror is offence.
From that undeniable sense of something not being quite right, to the CGI-blood-spurtin’-adrenaline-fuelled scenes that leave us shaking in our boots, horror pivots on the knife edge of controversy.
It’s used to drive plots. It’s used to drive hype. And at the end of the month, it drives studio executives to the bank.
Horror films can be traumatic enough. But there are some films that bear the cross of controversy more than others. There are some films that have been branded as so damaging to their potential viewers that merely circulating copies of the film is illegal.
And yet their infamy has forged cult viewership. What was once shielded from us has now become ‘must see’.
Today we are going to be counting down horror’s most controversial films and what made them quite so topical.
*I’m going to star the ones that you can actually watch without getting traumatised. Some are controversial not because of their content but because some religious or political groups disagreed with them*
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#10 - The Blair Witch Project (1999)*
Let’s ease in with a classic - a classic you can watch without sleeping with the light on.
In this found-footage flick we see a team of film students as they explore a local urban legend. But what they find leads them to unknown and ungodly territory.
The problem with this film is that it was marketed as a true story. No, not based on a true story, a true story. Yep, they claimed what we were seeing was real, found footage of some teens going mad as they forage deeper into mysterious woods.
IMBd went so far as to report that the actors were dead. Then, the movie studio super-charged their efforts to confirm to the public that not only was this film 100% real, the three main actors were still missing. The parents of the actors then started receiving sympathy cards.
There’s even a mocked up website that perpetuates these claims. 
#9 - Night Of The Living Dead (1968)*
Time for another not-too-disturbing film.
This is the original zombie apocalypse film saw a group of Americans attempt to survive an incoming attack of the undead while trapped in a rural farmhouse.
But the Motion Picture Association of America wasn’t too happy about it. The film rating system was yet to be in place, allowing children to also show up for an afternoon screening and be greeted by a 97 minute montage of extreme violence.
“The kids in the audience were stunned. There was almost complete silence. The movie had stopped being delightfully scary about halfway through, and had become unexpectedly terrifying. There was a little girl across the aisle from me, maybe nine years old, who was sitting very still in her seat and crying”
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#8 - Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986)
In this psychological film, we watch a random crime spree take place at the hands of a couple serial killers. Loosely based on real murderers Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole, its controversial reputation was founded on the gore ‘n’ guts screened in the movie.
Whilst it didn’t receive much attention from the public, various classification boards across the world ensured new versions edited with certain scenes - often involving sexual assault and necrophilia - removed for viewers.
In 2003, the BBFC (the UK classification board) finally allowed the uncut version to be released and Australia followed suit in 2005.
#7 - I Spit On Your Grave (1978)
It’s the original rape-revenge flick. And it managed to piss everyone off.
Originally titled Day of the Woman, it tells the story of a fiction writer who exacts revenge on a group of four men who gang rape her.
Despite its pro-women claim-to-fame, the 30 minute rape scene begs to differ. Furious debate surrounds its feminist label as a film that forces the audience to endure rape from a female perspective and long-winded violence against men (something which is often reserved for women in horror). Regardless, the graphic violence earned it a steady ban in Ireland, Norway, Iceland, and West Germany.
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#6 - Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984)*
You don’t get many controversial Christmas films. They typically stick to a cookie-cutter plot ‘n’ purpose every holiday season. But there are no strong women who need to rediscover the meaning of Christmas here.
Instead, we see a child traumatised by seeing his parents murdered on Christmas Eve go on a seasonal rampage as an adult.
A week after its release in the early 80s, it was pulled from theatres due to backlash. Marketing was focused on a Santa Claus killer with adverts often airing during family-friendly TV programmes and meant numerous children developed a phobia of Father Christmas. Large crowds protested cinemas with one notable protest involving angry families singing carols at the Interboro Quad Theater in The Bronx.
It was only in 2009 - 25 years after its original release - that a DVD of the film was first made available for purchase in the UK.
#5 - Psycho (1960)*
This legendary film follows the disappearance of a young woman after her encounter with a strange man called Norman Bates, one of horror’s most iconic figures. The controversy that would engulf this fim lay not in the violent attack on an innocent woman or even the disturbing content of the film.
Oh, no. It was because of what the leading lady was wearing.
In the opening scene of the film, we see Janet Leigh wearing nothing but a bra.
*gasp*
This racy attire was emblazoned across promotional material, meeting Hitchcock’s high standards of creating controversy around the movie. There was a no late admission policy for movie theaters, and the posters told viewers “Do not reveal the surprises!” to maintain a mysterious aura around the plot twist.
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#4 - The Human Centipede (2009) (all of ‘em)
I’ve watched a lot of horror films, in case you couldn’t tell.
I’m used to watching a scary movie, shaking off the anxiety, and moving on with my life. But there are some that stayed with me. I only watched the trailer for the first movie, and it legitimately traumatised me. It gave me quite a severe, sudden bout of a depression for a solid month when I was 13.
Throughout horror’s goriest franchise, we see an evil doctor and amateur mad scientist attempt to sow several people together into a centipede-like chain from mouth to anus.
*retches*
At the heart of promoting the franchise was controversy. Tom Six, the director, forced a narrative that claimed from the first film that this was "100% medically accurate". He even alleged a Dutch doctor helped inspire the film, confirming that with an IV drip, this was entirely possible.
Although it didn’t receive furore that amounted to serious censorship or long-term banning, it was infamous for having its viewers vomiting in the cinema aisles.
The second film, however, was subject to much more severe controversy and could not legally be supplied in the UK until 2011 due to its heavy focus on sexual abuse, more graphic violence than the original film, and it’s pretty vile depiction of a murderer that was intellectually disabled.
Audiences were used to the graphic nature of the franchise by the third and final release. As the least-controversial and least-enjoyable film according to critics, it barely made a dent in the horror community.
Good riddance, I guess?
#3 - Faces Of Death (1978)
I’m not sure I’d recommend this one per se - but I will give it credit for being an interesting project.
This documentary-style film is a montage of footage of people dying in different ways. As a result of its very graphic and very real content, it was banned and censored in many countries. Only in 2003 was it released on DVD in the UK after a scene was cut featuring dogs fighting and a monkey being beaten to death.
Germany, Australia, and New Zealand followed suit, reversing their bans and releasing edited versions.
However, 7 years after its release, the media revamped its interest in the film after a maths teacher showed it to his class at a Californian high school. Two of his students claimed they were so traumatised they received a costly settlement to reimburse their emotional distress. Things took a darker turn a year later, when a 14 year old bludgeoned a classmate to death with a baseball bat; he claimed he wanted to see what it would be like to actually kill someone after watching Faces of Death.
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#2 - Cannibal Holocaust (1980)
This Italian film’s title alone hints towards two frightening things: flesh-eating humans and genocide. In this found-footage movie we see an anthropologist lead a rescue team into the Amazon rainforest to find a group of filmmakers that went missing.
The rampant graphic content including sexual assault and animal cruelty showcased in the film (7 animals were killed during filming in some pretty horrific ways) led to it being banned in 50 countries.
Some also alleged that a handful of deaths seen in the film were real, as were the missing film crew. In fact, the actors portraying the documentarians signed contracts that stopped them appearing in motion pictures for an entire year to maintain the illusion of reality.
And only 10 days after its premiere, the director was charged with obscenity and the film confiscated. All copies were to be turned over to the authorities. There are currently a range of versions that have been edited to varying degrees and are allowed for circulation.
#1 - A Serbian Film (2010)
No.
Nope.
Don’t do it. Don’t watch this film.
A Serbian Film follows a retired porn star who agrees to feature in an “art film” for some cash. Little does he know this film will include rape, incest, pedophilia, necrophilia…
Just don’t watch it.
It is still banned in South Korea, New Zealand, Australia. It is supposedly a parody of politically correct films made in Serbia that are funded by foreign groups and allegedly speaks openly about post-war society and the struggle for survival.
*shakes head*
Off to have a 3 hour shower, brb.
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benedictscanvas · 4 years
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objectively - spencer reid x reader
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: none that I can think of unless you hate fluff (you monster)
A/N: My first Spencer Reid! I love this man so very much. Requested by @justkurotingz​ who I think is such a wonderful writer so I really hope I’ve done this justice! :)
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It smelled like coffee and business. Keyboard tapping and idle chatter. There were teenage girls with elaborate concoctions to be sipped through straws, men in suits ordering espressos to go, one particular women taking an ungodly amount of time in the line to choose a cake for the weekly catchup with her friends.
You didn’t mind as much as some of the men in suits shaking their head in the line. Her friends were laughing at her and nudging them and the whole debacle only made you smile. There was nowhere else in the world you had to be, which was a rare feeling to be savoured as much as possible.
So you waited patiently as they made your drink and people watched along the way. A little boy with a slice of cake that he definitely wouldn’t finish. A man with a scarf half wrapped around his face trying to wrestle with the sugar container whilst also talking to someone on the phone. A woman on her phone in the corner. You frowned at that one. If she just looked up, took in the sights and the smells that surrounded her, she might not be sighing every two seconds before her acrylic nails began an incessant tapping on her screen.
“Y/N?”
You stepped forward and claimed your drink with a grateful nod, turning to the counter to put a little more sugar in it yourself. But clearly, you must’ve turned too quickly, because before you knew it there was hot coffee all over your arm and splashing onto the floor as you bumped straight into something solid with a gasp.
It took you a few moments to register the pain in your arm, but when you did, the person you’d bumped into was already grabbing napkins frantically and pressing them to your arm, mopping up as much of the burning liquid as he could as he rambled.
“I am so so sorry, I didn’t even see you I was on the phone and I must not have been concentrating,” he stopped and you finally looked up at him from your arm. It was scarf and sugar guy. He still hadn’t looked at you properly, focused on cleaning up your arm even though he was speaking into the phone propped between his ear and his shoulder now, “Shut up, Morgan, I didn’t even see her...I’m hanging up.”
He did just that and shoved his phone in his pocket. A disgruntled employee mopped up the spill on the floor while he had spoken. Suddenly he seemed to realise what he’d been doing, that he’d been cleaning up your arm without even asking. You felt stupid. You’d been just staring at him dumbly for such a long time, shocked into stillness by the burning and the sudden accident. But also, by some strange yet overwhelming urge for him to look up at you.
He sheepishly moved his eyes up to your face, biting his lip with worry like he was expecting you to scold him, or maybe even scald him with the little coffee remaining in your cup. Instead, you were standing there, looking at him. His eyes, specifically. You hadn’t seen them when you glanced over at him earlier. Now, it was like you’d become obsessed in a matter of seconds. One little moment. Sometimes, that was all it took.
You shook your head and tried to hide your embarrassment with a smile.
“What are you talking about? It was completely my fault. You didn’t get any on you did you?” you asked, checking him over. When you looked back up at him in his silence, you noticed he was still looking at you, a look in his eyes that meant it was your turn to bite your lip until he recovered himself.
“N-no, no I didn’t, it tipped your way,” he said nervously. He hurried threw the napkins he’d been patting your arm with in the bin and turned back to you, “Can I buy you another?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said easily, waving him away and trying to ignore the heat of your arm.
“Please?” he asked, taking you off guard with how earnest he sounded, “My coworker now knows I bumped into a woman and he’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t make it up to you somehow. It’ll only add to his opinion that I’m hopeless around the opposite sex, which may be a somewhat accurate opinion, but I’d rather not give him more reason to-”
“Hey, hey,” you said soothingly, stopping him from his rant in the hopes that he’d take a breath, “I could really do with my morning coffee, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
He let out a long overdue breath and, for the first time, he was smiling at you, this small shy smile that felt ridiculously infectious. You smiled back at him as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and willed yourself to pull it together, following him to the back of the line. Even from the back, scarf guy was too attractive for his own good. You rolled your eyes at yourself before he turned back around as you waited in the queue again.
“I’m Spencer, by the way. And you must be-” he ducked his head to read the name on your cup, “Y/N?”
“That’s me,” you said brightly, “You’re sure you don’t have somewhere to be?”
“I always leave myself at least an extra half an hour in case the line’s too long or something, so I’m fine. What about you?”
“A rare day off,” you mused with a smile, “The feeling of having literally nowhere to be is one of my favourites.”
“It is a pretty nice feeling,” Spencer said wistfully, as if he were just guessing that and you frowned.
“You don’t get much of that?” you asked and he tilted his head at you. You shrugged shyly, “I just mean, the way you said it. Didn’t sound like you really knew what that felt like.”
There was that look in his eyes again. The one you thought you might recognise but didn’t want to name, because you’d only become more bashful than you already felt.
“I suppose I don’t. I work for the FBI, in the Behavioural Analysis Unit. It can be...intense.”
“Wow,” you said seriously, looking at him with newfound awe, “That’s amazing. I’m so impressed with everything your team has done. You work under SSA Aaron Hotchner?”
His brow furrowed and he made that little confused face that you were already enamoured with.
“Yeah I do. You’ve heard of us?” he asked, looking a little more wary now, and you realised that most people who said that probably didn’t have the best intentions with the guy. You chuckled as you lifted your cardigan just a little.
“Don’t worry, I’m a cop,” your badge shone from its place on your belt before you let your cardigan hang over it again, “You helped one of my friends from back home with a case a while back. She said you lot were the best and from everything I’ve seen since, she was right.”
His blush was prominent as he stared at his shoes, scuffing them against the floor, but you didn’t grin like you wanted to, not wanting him to think you were teasing him.
“We just come and help where we can,” he mumbled, “Nothing special.”
“You know, Spencer,” you said sincerely, making him look back up at you, “If I had to guess, I’d say you were pretty special.”
He paused, still looking at you. Silence. You worried you might have said the wrong thing.
But then, a grin.
---
“...and that was the moment I fell in love with him,” you said finally, glancing from the people around the table to Spencer beside you who was staring at you with that same look from that day in the coffee shop, which you now knew to be awe and adoration all rolled into one. You smiled at him, leaning further into his side as you squeezed his leg.
“I can’t believe you guys have never told us how you met before,” Garcia sounded like she was caught up in the dreamy romance of it all and you couldn’t help but laugh at her.
“I knew!” Derek cut in with a sly little smirk directed at Spencer, “Only because later in the day I asked pretty boy why he hung up on me.”
“Derek, I don’t think-”
“You know what he told me, Y/N?” Derek continued, ignoring Spencer’s attempts to cut him off as you leaned forward excitedly, “He told me that he’d met, subjectively, the most beautiful girl in the world. That it was love at first sight.”
“That is not what I said-”
“Okay, well maybe not those exact words, but it was words to that effect, right Reid?” he said teasingly and Spencer was blushing, looking down into his lap. You put two fingers under his chin and brought his face to yours.
“Subjectively?” you asked, eyebrows raised and he shook his head.
“He’s got the words wrong, because he’s an idiot,” he directed his last comment with a side eye at Derek that had the whole table laughing, before whispering so only you could hear, “I said objectively, the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“Should hope so,” you murmured, grabbing his tie and leaning in to kiss him. You had to pull away quickly when the chorus of ‘aww’s and groans sounded out around the table and reminded you where you were. You chuckled and smoothed down his tie.
“You two kids are going to make each other very happy,” Dave chimed in from the head of the table as you rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and looked around the group and the soppy smiles on their faces as they stared at you and Spencer. You knew they were happy just to see him happy. Most of them had come up to you privately to have conversations about how good you had been for him. It was all you could want, “To Spencer and Y/N!”
“To Spencer and Y/N!”
Everyone cheered, raising their glasses to you both and you had to fight down a tear or two. Spencer reached for your hand, entwining it in his own and brought it up to his lips, kissing your ring before resting both your hands in his lap as the conversation around the table continued.
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jmnjmnjmn · 4 years
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Reunion | BTS V fluffy oneshot
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Pairing: Student!Taehyung x Student!Reader
Key words: high school, crush, confession.
Word count: less than 4,000
Masterlist
The day we met I didn’t pay much attention to you. I remember noticing how shiny your hair was when I glanced your way as the head teacher called your name in attendance and you answered her with a timid “here”. That was it until a couple of months later when that same teacher ordered a switch in seats for the entire class. I used to sit somewhat in the front of the class, by the window, with my friend Jimin and you… I don’t remember where you sat before you sat with me.
After the rearrangement you and I were seated at the beck of the class in the middle row of desks. You were on the right side, closer to the door, and I was on the left, closer to the windows. At first I felt as if an injustice had been done to me and my friends. I wondered why couldn’t we just stay seated the way we had chosen ourselves on the first day of high school and why I had to sit with you - a quiet girl I didn’t even know. To my surprise I quickly found out you were nowhere close to who I thought you were. You were far more than that, more complex, more important to me than anyone.
We got switched at the end of a Friday and when I came to school on the following Monday I felt everything, but excited at the prospect of sitting with you. During our first class you didn’t pay much attention to me and vice versa. The reason behind that wasn’t yours or mine rudeness, but the fact that we were both struggling to keep our eyes open, cursing in our heads at whoever thought that it was a good idea to start classes so early.
Our second class on that day was Mathematics. I was never especially good at it, but I passed by fine. You on the other hand…
-
“Taehyung.” I heard you whisper right as I sat down at our desk.
“What?” I asked looking for the proper notebook in my backpack.
“Did you do the homework?” You asked in a conspiratorial tone.
“Yes. Why?” I answered you and set my backpack down on the floor.
“Could I-” Your question was cut short as the teacher spoke up from his desk.
“Alright, let’s start with a homework check.” I saw the horror in your face as you heard his say that and immediately knew you didn’t do the assignment. “Let’s switch it up and start from the back this time. Last table, (Y/N) and Taehyung. (Y/N), could you tell me what you got in the first exercise?” You looked down at your closed notebook, knowing there was nothing inside that could help you out in this situation. I felt so bad for you and decided to help. I quickly opened my notebook on the exercise the teacher was asking about and tapped my finger on the answer at the bottom of the page.
“Uh…” You stalled and glanced quickly at my notes. “Yes. I got 3√2.” The teacher agreed with your - my - result and proceeded to ask other students for theirs. You looked at me with relief and mouthed a silent thank you. “I’m shit at math. No matter how long I spend studying I always fail the tests and get the wrong results.” You whined to me after the bell rang meaning the lesson was over with.
“I thought you were good at everything. Most girls are.” I said getting up and you chuckled. As I looked down at you collecting your notebook and putting them in your bag I remembered that I liked the shininess of your hair on the first day of school and thought that it’s still shiny and I still like it.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” You asked, pulling your phone out of your school blazers pocket and also getting out of your chair. Your phone's screen lit up for a second and I noticed you had an instax picture of you and your friends as your lock screen.
“Girls are always at least average at everything.” I said looking at your hands that held the phone. It had a little teddy bear keychain attached to it, I thought it was cute. “It’s usually the guys that totally suck at a subject.” I explained and you laughed. I quickly looked up at your face and took notice of how pretty you looked while smiling.
“If you say so.” You said and walked out onto the corridor to spend the break with your friends.
“God.” I heard Jimin groan behind my back and felt his hands on my shoulders just a second after. “Switch desks with me. Please. I can’t stand this guy I’m sitting with.” He begged as we exited the classroom.
“Why what’s wrong with him?” I asked.
“If I tell you you won’t switch with me.” Jimin said in a serious voice which made me laugh a little.
“No deal then.” I said and he whined. “The teacher forbade us from switching anyway.” I added.
“I know, but I sit at a desk right next to yours. She won’t notice. Please, Taehyung. At least for today.” He begged in desperation.
“What did your desk buddy do to you?” I asked laughing at his state.
“Will you switch with me? Please, I’ll buy you anything from the vending machine.” My ears perked up at his proposition.
“Everyday?” I asked with hope.
“Once a week?” Jimin proposed.
“Deal.” We shook hands and went on with our day.
-
For the rest of that day I sat at a desk by the window on the outer side with the guy Jimin couldn’t stand. He wasn’t much of a bother to me. What did end up bothering me quiet quickly though was that Jimin and you seemed to get along really well. You chatted throughout all the classes and got reprimanded by the teachers a handful of times because of it. You showed each other things on your phones, compared notes, shared textbooks and so on. For some reason seeing that made me feel really bad inside. At first I thought I was jealous about Jimin being friends with someone other than me, but that idea didn’t seem to fit all the feelings I was experiencing. I realised later that it was all because of you.
-
“Let’s go.” I said, urging Jimin to get up from your guys’s desk. I felt so irritated and blamed it on the amount of classes we had that day, but the real reason was far from that. In reality I just wanted the two of you to stop talking and being so friendly already.
“One second.” He dismissed me to finish what he was telling you before I came by which made me feel even more annoyed. “I really liked that bit.” He told you with enthusiasm. “You want to go to the skatepark with us?” He asked you and I felt my cheeks getting flushed. I turned to look out the window so none of you noticed the redness in my face.
“I wish I could.” I glanced at the two of you again. “I already have plans with my friends.” You said, making a sad face which Jimin immediately mimicked.
“Mm.” He fake cried and you chuckled. “Tomorrow then.” He said and you nodded in agreement. Jimin picked up his backpack and looked at me with a puzzled expression. “You okay?” He asked and you glanced at me quickly as you walked out of the classroom.
“I’m fine.” I murmured and rubbed my cheeks to make the blushing go away.
-
I recently realised that I’ve known you almost eight years now. Ever since our first conversation in Math class I knew there was something about you that I just couldn’t lay my finger on or, more likely, wouldn’t for a long time.
Three years of high school and five of university after that. It passed by so quickly and now… We’re here again. Standing in front of our old high school building, leaning on the railing around the basketball court you used to sit on with Jimin while cheering for me during my games.
Jimin… If it wasn’t for him I probably would never befriend you. The two of you got along so well so quickly it made my stomach turn. He was the one that started inviting you to come along with him to my games, then to go out partying with us and finally to just hang out. I wished everyday that it was me that asked you to join us, but I was just too shy and intimidated by you. I don’t know how to explain this without sounding too cliche, so I’ll put it like this.
As Jimin and you became friends we started to get closer as well and I got to see this whole other side of you I didn’t even know existed before. That’s when it got a little too complicated for me. The way you interacted with Jimin was friendly, funny, you just related on a different level. The way you were with me was different or maybe it was the same and it just hit me differently… You were warm and playful, supportive and gentle. We had - and still have to this day - this flirty kind of friendship where some people would assume we have something going on and sometimes they would ask us about it, but we’d shoot them down quickly saying “there’s no way” and “we’re just friends like that”. I agreed with you whenever you said it, but it hurt me, because I didn’t want it to be true and dreamed that there would be a way for us to be together one day. To put it simply, over the span of the first few months we knew each other I had developed a huge crush on you.
-
“Taehyung.” I felt someone poke my cheek. “Taehyung-ie. Don’t sleep. Talk to me.” You whispered and poked me again. It was one of those blessed days Jimin didn’t come to class and you asked me to sit with you to keep you company. I opened my eyes slowly, taking in your appearance and yawned.
“What do you want?” I asked with a sleepy voice.
“What do you think of me?” You asked, resting your chin on one of your palms. Your beautiful hair was shining in the afternoon sun and your cheeks were flushed because of that summer’s ungodly heat.
“I… Think… That… “ I spoke very slowly, feeling a little more than startled and not really knowing how to express myself.
“Ah, forget it.” You said flipping your hair and resting your head on the books on our table.
“(Y/N).” I hummed. “What do you think of me?” I repeated your question back to you, desperately wanting to know your true answer. You slowly lifted yourself to your previous position and looked at me.
“I think that you’re a good person and I enjoy being around you. When I first see you I think of something fun and exciting. But if I were to look deeper into it I think it would be something associated with a feeling of laughter, confidence and justs being happy.”
“Wow.” I looked at her amazed, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance you feel the same way that I do. “Thanks.”
-
“We should do something together this summer. It’s the last vacation we’ll have as high schoolers.” Jimin said as he stirred his convenience store ramen. “Next year at this time we’ll be applying to colleges and universities. We might end up in  different cities or maybe even countries.” I felt a pinch in my chest when he said that. 
“You’re that ambitious?” You asked sarcastically and we all laughed.
“Come on. Wouldn’t you want to go somewhere special?” He asked in a dreamy tone.
“I’m going to be visiting my extended family for the whole summer.” I confessed and your head snapped in my direction.
“Oh, right. I forgot about that.” Jimin nodded and you kept looking at me with a frown.
“For the whole summer?” You asked sadly and I couldn’t help, but smile.
“Oh, poor (Y/N). Are you gonna miss me that much?” I asked, patting your head and you chuckled. I honestly hoped my words would come true.
“Obviously.” You shot back in a jokingly exaggerated tone. “Who am I gonna tease all day when you’ll be gone?”
-
We were leaning on the barriers surrounding our school’s basketball court enjoying the ending summer’s sunshine. Just you and I, waiting for Jimin to come join us. It was one of the last days of vacation we had before going back to high school for our senior year.
“Can you tell me (Y/N) if there is...” I started saying and glanced at you which was a mistake on my part, because you looked so beautiful it made me lose my tongue. “Nevermind.” You looked at me seeming very annoyed.
“Hey, what were you gonna ask me?” You asked, pushing my shoulder and I felt my stomach fill up with butterflies. I looked up from my feet at you and hoped you wouldn't be able to tell that I’m blushing in the warm light of the setting sun. “Tell me.” You urged and pushed my shoulder once again.
“Hey!” I yelled back laughing, deciding on telling you some version of the truth. “How am I supposed to ask you anything when you look like this?” I gestured up and down your frame. You looked so clueless for a second when you were checking if there was something wrong with your outfit.
“What do you mean? I look fine!” You yelled in return.
“Mhm, sure. Totally fine.” I said sarcastically. “With your shiny skin and pretty hair. Wearing a short skirt and cute sneakers like you’re desperately trying to hold onto the - clearly ending - summertime. The golden sunshine is of no help in this situation either, young lady!” I yelled out in a silly voice and you just bent down laughing. “I’m serious. Have you been walking around like this all summer? Like this?! With Jimin?! When I was gone!?!” I asked over dramatically. If you only knew I meant every word I said.
“Ah, Kim Taehyung. In all honesty… Every time I see you you can make me laugh, but now you sound like my father!” You shook your head in between small laughs and I felt myself die inside wondering whether you will ever call me your boyfriend?
-
“Three years of high school and five years of university after that.” I said looking at the ripped up netting hanging off one of the hoops on the basketball court.
“ Eight years.” You said in agreement. “It passed by so quickly.” You said looking at me, but I didn’t dare to look your way. 
“And now we’re here again.” I said, dancing around the real topic I wanted to bring up with you. “Standing in front of our old high school building, leaning on the railing around the basketball court you used to sit on with Jimin while cheering for me during my games.” I repeated what I just said to myself in my head.
“Why did you want to see me here before the reunion?” You asked, cutting right to the chase. “We could’ve met there and talked. Why here? And why now?” You asked and I felt the heat rising in my body. “I haven’t heard from you for over a year. All I know is from Jimin.” The hurt in your voice was clearly audible. “Why’d you stop talking to me?” You asked finally and I sighed, looking down at my feet.
“I… “ I tried to come up with an explanation, but there was none that you would believe that wouldn’t include me confessing my true feelings to you. I pushed away from the barrier and took a couple of steps forward into the court. I looked up into the sky feeling speechless. “I’m sorry.” I finally said with my back facing you.
“What did you say?” You asked, wanting me to repeat myself. I shook my head detecting the tiniest bit of a smirk in your tone and mustered the courage to turn towards you, but I didn’t pick my gaze up from the ground.
“I’m sorry.” I repeated a little louder this time.
“Oh. Okay.” You spoke slowly in a sarcastic way that I remembered from when we still talked. I could tell you were a little angry though. “You didn’t answer any of my questions though.” You added after a moment not ready to let go of the fact that this was the first time we spoke in over a year. I rubbed my forehead, trying to collect my thoughts.
“What can I say?” I half laughed and half actually begged for you to guide me in the right direction.
“The truth.” You answered bluntly.
“You changed.” I said with a smile. “You weren’t this honest and upfront.” I added as my confidence withered away with the autumn’s wind.
“Maybe.” You said, making your way towards me and stopped less than a meter away. “Or maybe I’m just a little mad at you.” You added sadly. I quickly glanced up at you and felt my heart come close to breaking as I noticed the sad look on your face.
So many questions started running through my head. Can it get any worse than seeing you like this? Is the possibility of rejection worse than making you sad? 
“Jimin said you didn’t let him tell me why you decided to cut all ties with me all of a sudden.” I frowned feeling your sadness become mine as well. “Ah, alright.” You breathed out putting your hands in your pockets. “I’ll let it go. For now.” You warned in a cheerier tone. “Why did you want to see me?” You asked.
“I… Wanted to talk to you.” I said broadly and looked up into the sky again. You just nodded waiting for me to elaborate. “About me. Kind of…” You leaned your head to one side trying to make sense of my words. I looked at my feet again scratching the back of my neck. “There’s something I wanted to bring up with you for a while now.”
“Yeah?” You said in a soft, encouraging manner noticing how uncomfortable I was.
“Ah… Can you tell me (Y/N) if there’s...” I started saying and again made the mistake of locking eyes with you. I felt my knees grow weak and my stomach turn. “Nevermind.” You looked at me with your eyes half closed, tired written all over your face.
“Not this again.” You shook your head slowly. “You said the exact same thing to me here like six years ago and I never found out what you were gonna ask me.” You chuckled quietly. “Remember that? You started babbling about how pretty I looked.” The smile on your face was growing with each word as you brought back the memory of us bickering that one summer. “And then you asked if I looked like this all summer and-”
“Like this?! With Jimin?! When I was gone!?!” I mocked my own words from years before. “Ah, I can’t believe you remembered it.” I laughed.
“Of course I did.” You said smiling brightly at me. “But what were you going to ask me? Please tell me, I’m dying to know.” I looked away and up towards the night sky again. The sun set a long time ago, but the skyline was still bright blue. I took a deep breath and felt the blush creep onto my cheeks. I felt like a teenage boy again, but your happy expression gave me confidence this time rather than make me feel intimidated.
“Can you tell me… If there is a way... I could… Make you want me… The way I want you right now?” I asked, still looking at the sky. “‘Cause… I think I’ve fallen in love with you… Do you think you could fall for me as well?” I breathed out loudly after saying the confession I had prepared for you while still in high school. I chuckled as I looked into your eyes again. “That’s what I was going to ask you that day. Ah, teenage me.” I shook my head with a deep sigh. “I chickened out, because you looked so pretty and it intimidated me.” You giggled at my late confession.
“So what you’re saying is that I don’t intimidate you anymore? Huh?” You asked, pulling your chin up and I laughed harder. You looked down and then back into my eyes. “But Taehyung…”
“Hm?”
“That was what you wanted to tell me back then in high school. But what were you going to tell me now, tonight?” You asked quietly. I smiled and bit my lip in nervousness.
“I was gonna ask you… If you could tell me if there’s a way I could make you want m-” Before I could finish my sappy confession for the second time today you leaned in and kissed me making my teenage dream a reality at last.
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valkblue · 3 years
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Being a Behavior technician requires a certain amount of dedication to the job — the rigorous type, bordeline rigid. That’s what is expected to be at peak efficiency regarding analysis protocols and diagnostics for host service and calibration.
For that, Vivian thinks she might be the worst tech in her department. 
— masterlist, AO3
Chapter 1 on 12
Chapter wordcount: 2,486 Story status: Complete Rating: General Warning: people swear a lot, technobabble counts as swearing as well (believe me)…
Author’s notes: This is the first time I post a fanfic online. A real big one I mean. Not just crackfics... I’m emotional. I don’t know what the schedule will be yet because my queue is acting up, but everything should be out regularly, or something that looks like it. This first chapter is an intro to the main character and what she does, and I hope you’ll enjoy this story and its characters all the way!  Also, I really want to thank @pheedraws​ and @something-tofightfor​ for their heartwarming feedback on the whole story. Thank you SO much!!
Have a good time reading, and my askbox/messages are open! 💙
— Chapter 1
Now wasn’t a good time to yawn…
And yet, Vivian had nothing else to do but wait right now, wait while the progress bars slowly filled up on her tablet screen.
Now wasn’t the time, simply because some of her colleagues were passing through the hallway, behind the glass panels of her cubicle, and among them was the head of Behavior department — incidentally, her superior.
No doubt they were all about to grab a bite at the restaurant and Vivian held back an almost envious mumble; she was starving! But before she could go eat anything, she had to finish with her last subject on her morning schedule; host ID#DH410829420391, named Mildred.
And Mildred was back at the lab on account of a negative report about her response time during interactions with other hosts but also with guests. A lag that only happened in character mode, not in analysis. So, Vivian started with refreshing her lexical base and improvisation engine. It took some time to check the entire tree but as of now, it was done.
"Can you confirm if the update’s complete?"
"Confirmed," Mildred answered right away, her voice flat and her look vacant.
"Back in character mode."
Mildred seemed to wake up and blinked once before focusing her attention  back on Vivian.
"Mildred?"
"Oh, I’m sorry," she answered with a hint of a shy smile. "I must have drifted off, I believe… The working hours at the farm are ungodly sometimes!"
The response time was more than good, now. The improvisation too.
"I was wondering if there’s a lot of clients at the farm these days," Vivian asked.
The answer was not long to come.
"Certainly! Our cattle sure gives the best milk there is. No matter what the competition says!"
"How many green bottles are standing on the wall?"
Questions and procedures were always more or less the same to determine which bits of code, settings or values could cause an issue or start to glitch like crazy!
But today, for Mildred — and Vivian — everything was back in order, and each/both of them could soon return to the the usual course of their scheduled day.
It was about time for Vivian to take a break, if she was reduced to that kind of wisecrack…
A glance at her wristwatch, even while her tablet displayed a more accurate time than the watch hands, and Vivian concluded her analysis. She folded the tablet, slid it back in her jacket pocket, and left the large glass room after one last embarrassed look at Mildred she was leaving there, naked in the dark. Vivian didn’t even fight down a shiver. It was actually freezing cold in there!
She comforted herself with the thought that Mildred didn’t feel anything in this state, disconnected, and that a team wouldn’t take too long to come get her, do her hair, dress her up and put her back in rotation in no time. Barely as much as Vivian had for her lunch break… and that was just enough to go all the way up to the hub restaurant. But the bosses here didn’t care much about how long the lunch breaks lasted, as long as the work was done in time.
So, Vivian didn’t hurry to get to the elevator she shared with two co-workers who only interrupted their chitchat about hockey results for a vague greeting.
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At this hour, the restaurant was a bit more crowded but it still wasn’t too hard to find a seat in the large and relatively peaceful room. The whole vibe in it was corporate though, even in that staff only room; every dish were stamped with the park logo and name — from the bottom of the plates to the salt shakers — and a flat HD screen displayed a bunch of Delos branches ads that looked much weirder without sound.
After a while, one didn’t really pay attention to all this anymore… A few months was enough to make it all part of the landscape and for the mind to simply stop noticing it.
And Vivian had been working here for three years, now.
However, she was still bothered by a few details sometimes, such as the huge white walls that spanned all the way up a balcony floor and a domed ceiling or the fact that the stalls were lit with a pale light under which the food turned to a sickly colour.
Hopefully, under the less saturated lights of the main room, the Caesar salads and the turkey-tomato sandwiches were back to a more appetizing hue.
Her tray loaded with a potato-corn salad, a big glass of water and a piece of bread, Vivian walked towards the tables, eager for her potatoes to lose their blueish glint. Just shy of the screen, she recognised a familiar face, Margaret’s, another Behavior tech from her team. Both were on friendly basis now, where it was possible to enjoy some time together and to laugh a little, even if it took them a whole year to finally break the ice.
Margaret waved at Vivian when she saw her pick her way across the room, inviting her to join them — them being Margaret, and three other guys from their department.
"Did you hear the latest, Vivian!?" she blurted. "I’ve been told that Damon Dyers is in the park, at this very moment!"
"Damon… Dyers?"
Vivian didn’t even hide her puzzlement while sitting in front of her.
"The actor," one of the three guys — Luke — pointed out. "Marge was just exposing how she’ll mooch the control room techs for a footage…"
"Listen, if you were as thirsty as I am about this guy, you’d understand!" Margaret replied.
To that, he quipped:
"My husband would be pissed!"
All chuckled in approval before returning to their almost emptied plates, while Vivian had barely touched her own.
"Can you imagine," Margaret daydreamt, leaning back in her seat as in a comfy armchair, holding her Pyrex glass like a snifter of bourbon. "Damon hunting down Escaton in the hills…"
Vivian scoffed; she could imagine, indeed.
At the table, Charles, Thawal and Luke didn’t pay any more attention to them, carrying on with their chat about retro gaming. Vivian would probably have preferred to be part of that conversation; not that she didn’t know shit about movies and their actors, but more like aside from a few exceptions on which they got along swimmingly, she didn’t have much taste in common with Margaret. But she listened to her friend anyway as she kept going after a sip of sparkling water:
"How am I not supposed to be hot on the idea!? I’ll deadass find someone to bootleg me some footages!"
Vivian smiled out of politeness, not saying much, as always. Her mouth was full anyway.
"Oh, by the way!"
Margaret took another swip of her glass before putting it down on the table and leaning towards Vivian.
"Apparently, they’re going to burden us with a whole new bunch of hosts in two or three weeks," she said, with all the serious she could muster. "I heard that from Elsie. Narrative must be trying to compensate for something, if you know what I mean…"
Vivian knew very well.
"We barely have time to light a fag between two sessions already and they plan to add another hundred on our backs!?"
She snorted disdainfully.
"Don’t know what they’re spicing their coffee with but it isn’t doing them any good."
"No shit," admitted Vivian, a bit testy at the idea. "Unless they also plan to hire? Did Lowe say anything about it?"
Margaret shrugged.
"No idea, I haven’t talked to him in a while."
She patted her blazer pockets then sighed softly; Vivian understood her attitude as relief, and a craving, even a need to light a cigarette.
"You should ask," Margaret pointed out with a smile a tad clenched in the orbicularis muscles. "You like him, right?"
Vivian approved; she admired his thoroughness, his love for details… A lot could be learned while working under his care and Vivian found him both spirited and friendly.
Margaret didn’t quite share the feeling, however; in her own words, he was giving her the heebie-jeebies.
"Anyway, I’m off," Margaret stated with an even greater impatience in her voice. "I gotta light one before the crazy afternoon waiting for me!"
She gathered her cutlery on her tray, adding:
"Not giving up on the idea to come across Damon fucking Dyers, though! At least in video recs. Wish me luck!"
Vivian nodded and Margaret put her tray away on the sideboard before hurrying to the exit.
Her colleagues had changed topics next to her, and now they were talking about cars, motorcycles and mechanics. As she didn’t know much about that topic, not as much as in computers, she listened only a little without taking part.
Then, Vivian finished wolfing down her potato salad and her glass of water; she would soon return to her shift and examine a series of hosts, the characteristics of which she overviewed on her tablet from her timetable’s folders. It was simply routine checks, and Vivian liked that kind of sessions; it was like meeting with a friend, just to catch up with them.
But for now, she would take a few minutes to get some air and natural light on top of the hub before diving back into the high tech depths of the Mesa.
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At seven in the evening, closer to eight, Vivian was glad to be back to her on-site apartments. Once again, she had grabbed a snack at the restaurant but the room was much more crowded than it was at lunch and came close to a headache before reaching "home". She could have dined here, cooked something on her induction hob but she was so tired — or lazy — that, tonight again, she still choose to eat at the restaurant over having to do the dishes!
Now, she was getting out of the shower in her bathrobe and throw herself on her bed.
Living like this, it was like being a teenager all over again, back at her parents’, or at the dorm… but once she closed her apartment’s door, Vivian was totally free to do whatever she wanted. As long as it didn’t involve wrecking the place!
But now, even if she wanted to, Vivian wouldn’t have had the strength to break any chair, nor even to make a mess of the bed… About that, she was actually planning on laying there, and falling asleep in her bathrobe while watching a movie or reading any book she had available on her personal tablet. A tablet that was nothing close to the one she was using every day in the Behavior department labs, but a tablet anyway.
She swiped the covers without any real interest; in all honesty, she was feeling too tired to read. Even something she had already read. And she cringed a little when the minimalistic cover with her automatically signed name appeared.
Yeah, even too tired to read her own words!
Besides, it wasn’t great literature at all — a fanfiction. Two, to be precise. Both about the hosts and their narratives as she could have written about a movie, book, or video game’s characters.
Vivian grumbled, letting her tablet fall flat on her stomach, and she stared at the white ceiling before closing her eyes while nibbling her lips. She had written this almost six months after she started working here, taken over by all the motivation, excitement and creativity around her!
She refocused on herself since but, in the meantime, she wrote these. And even though Vivian considered herself to have a fertile imagination, she still commended herself about how better for everyone it was she hadn’t applied for a job in Narrative…
Rising her tablet up again and tapping on the lit screen, she entered the file and skimmed through it, trying to ignore the grammar mistakes she stopped committing since; and mistakes aside, her stories had nothing exceptional, totally influenced as they were by her mood and the not-so-new-but-still-trendy storyline — Escaton’s and his bandits, essentially…
Over a very short time, when Vivian was still more or less trying to fit into the life of the facility and social circles of her co-workers whose names had yet to be caught, she had heard so many comments, appreciations and reviews for this narrative that she looked into it first.
After all, the park afforded Lee Sizemore, renowned author who made a big name for himself with a "hot and grimy" historical saga, a few years back before running out of puff under his editor’s pressure. And a juicy offer by a video game studio to adapt it. 
She understood; everybody, whether staff or guests, was more or less hyped by the brute force brought by Hector Escaton — virile and dark male figure — to the relative tranquility of the park’s starting point.
And Vivian had been no exception.
If her first story was only about made-up characters to explore the pleasing and well rounded context of Sweetwater, her second, on the other hand, was more audacious, altering shamelessly the story from what its authors had surely intended; victorious over the town after killing the sheriff and all opposition, Escaton and his gang enjoyed their plunder at the Mariposa where Hector fell for one of the saloon girls.
That being said, Vivian remained very proper — maybe totally prudish — in these sort of narrative fantasies of hers; nothing turned freaky or utterly violent…
All she did was throwing a few sentences on her writing app for some evenings, when inspiration struck or simply because she urged herself to follow through with what she started. All on her personal tablet. She knew better than to write that on anything system-tethered. Imagining that a bored somebody could just hack into the system all the way up to her personal data… and end up on that giddy nonsense, made her wants to puke!
Not to mention that it might also be forbidden. Even though she never planned to, she knew she couldn’t share it with anyone, nor anywhere. Not as a park employee. If the guests were writing critiques and other reviews online about their stay, herself couldn’t talk about it from the inside. Confidentiality and shit…
Her texts would remain secret, and her silly fantasies with them. In any case, it wasn’t as if she intended to try anything for herself, and even less with Hector Escaton, all the more since he wasn’t even part of the batch her team had in charge. And also, rumor has it that fantasies aren’t always good when act upon!
With a lazy tap, Vivian quitted the reading app and dropped the tablet on her sheets before burying her face in her soft pillow. She let out a deep sigh in it, relaxed, and in fact, she fell asleep almost right away.
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16 notes · View notes
vydante · 5 years
Text
Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 6
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: undecided)
Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.
But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.
So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?
A/N: Super long: 3506 words. I’m gonna be honest, this was mainly just to further the relationship between you and Steve. I plan on doing the same for other characters, though I’m not sure when. Also, apparently line breaks aren’t a thing anymore on this godawful website, so-
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In all honesty, you didn't remember school being such a nightmare as it was.
"Ugh..."
You trudged into your room and dropped your backpack onto the ground. You just got home and headed immediately to your room. You collapsed straight into your bed and sighed, feeling all of the tension in your neck unravel as you stretch.
"Hnnng...!"
Groaning out loud, you turned on your back as you stared at your ceiling. There's faint music filling the background noise- you might've forgotten to turn off your headphones. You lied there, contemplating.
A week had passed ever since that mission. Not much had happened since then. You got reacquainted with your old friends, resumed school life, and tried to act normal as best as possible.
Of course, it was almost the end of May, which for you meant cramming for classes that you haven't taken in literal years. Exams really were coming up, and you just prayed that you'd even have enough time in your schedule to study.
Even though, theoretically, your schedule shouldn't be as tightly packed as one would think- since you're not 'Avenging' anything and your dad let you off from joining him in his work to study- it just is.
But it all boiled down because of your seemingly fruitless research.
Specifically, research into where the time stone is right now.
You remember that, when you went to time travel, there had been a point where 3 infinity stones lied in New York- 2012, to be specific. It was the mind, space, and time stone. But it was 2013, and besides, you were mainly interested in the time stone, really.
Dr. Strange, who in your timeline had held the time stone, must've gotten it from somewhere, probably relating to whatever magical temple thing he went to.
You had slaved over nearly the whole entirety of what the internet could offer you. If anything, had it not be for the programming in your computer system, you were sure you'd be put on a watchlist of some sort from the type of things you were researching.
You grunted and rolled to your side.
There had been at least one lead, and that led you straight to Nepal, strangely enough. Something about a place that helps the broken, physically and/ or mentally. But even then, the post you found barely said anything about it.
Maybe it had to do with something like therapy? Or something medical? Strange was a doctor before, so he must've at least a connection to some insider knowledge...
You shook your head. You didn't really know and didn't care much for now. Your mind and body in itself, ironically, was tired.
A nap sounds really tempting right about now...
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You will admit, you may or may not have spent an ungodly amount of research and talking to doctors and the like to finally find what you were truly looking for.
You sat back and stretched, finally taking your eyes off of the screen from what was hours of hunching over and typing.
You glanced outside your window. It was dark with only the lights of the city and your computer illuminating the walls of your room.
All of your research finally led to one really good, but painful sounding lead. There was a temple named Kamar Taj. As it turns out, your original lead was right; it is located in Nepal and from what you were told, the doctor you spoke to had known a friend who went there in order to help with their mental issue and came back healthy than ever before.
But, considering that Strange came from that temple, it was probably magic and junk like that.
You closed your laptop and all of your journals that you documented all of this research in. You sighed and mulled over it quietly. 
You needed to go to China and head to the temple... But it was vague, where it even was. And besides all of that, you needed to find a reason to tell your parents that you were going to China.
Of course, you can't just walk up to them and tell them, 'Hey, I'm going to China because I need to meet someone with a green magical rock!'.
And it's not like you're an adult right now with no obligations; you're a high schooler.
You have classes to attend, homework to finish, projects to start for next year... Perhaps during the summer, yeah, but even then you're not sure that you can fit that in your schedule.
Maybe next summer?
Your eyebrows furrowed; you wanted to get your questions answered quickly, so that wasn't an option...
And even then, you couldn't guarantee that someone there, even if they had the stone, would be willing to help you. And what would you even ask? How would you even approach the subject?
All of this was making your head throb painfully.
You jumped in your chair when you heard a knock from behind your door. You swiveled around and got up, just as J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up.
"Mr. Rogers is at your door, sir."
"Yeah, could've guessed."
You had changed your door to be a frosted glass one, so you could tell it was Steve by the broad shadow and slim waist. Your lips quirked up- you always called him Doritos man when his back was turned away from you.
"(Name)?"
You abruptly opened the door and was greeted by Steve's wide eyes. Judging by his newly cleaned clothes and wet hair, he probably just got done with training and showering.
"Oh- hey."
"Hey yourself, Steve."
You smiled and opened the door wider, stepping back to let him in. He entered as he whistled quietly, looking all around your walls. You stood near your desk as you silently eyed him.
You ran your thumb over your arm, slightly scratching at your wrist.
"You've kept yourself busy these days, huh."
He looks at a wall that was plastered with suit designs, some even having designed for your future Mark-93, which was the go-to model of your suit.
Granted, that one was technically either Mark-22 or Mark-94, depending on which timeline you were going off of...
Though you will say, there's a huge technological leap between Mark-21 and Mark-22.
But while they were all underneath the other designs, you knew Steve couldn't really tell them apart. You needed to get them all down and into your new lab, which should be finished by the end of the weekend.
He glanced down at your table, filled with journals. There was one about your research, a few for school, and the rest for your own little history book of your timeline. You recently just finished it, and now you needed to just... Get it off your desk. 
His lips quirked up a bit more as picked a few of them up. He probably thought you had a hoarding problem or something.
"Yeah, had a few ideas for some new tech, nothing new."
Steve glanced at you for a split second. Was he nervous?
"I, uh, wanted to talk to you. About the last mission."
You bit your lip as you dug your nails in your wrists, scraping away at the layer of skin as it turned an angry red.
"Oh, what about it?"
Steve sat down at the edge of your bed. You instantly thought back to when Tony had confronted you a few weeks ago. You sat down slowly, keeping your cool as he stared at you with those steely eyes.
Were they ever as unnerving as they are now?
"Back when we were in the building. And you had gotten... Ambushed."
His shoulders were hunched as if he had a lot of tension in his back. His voice was quiet.
"Even though you handled the situation, I just... I want to say that I'm sorry."
Your eyes widened. You sure weren't expecting him to say that.
"Sorry? What for?"
It was funny, in your opinion. Last time, with Tony, you were confused because you didn't know what mission he was talking about. This time, you knew exactly what the mission was. You were still confused, though.
"For letting you get ambushed. I should've known that there were going to be a lot of bad guys there, and I... I feel awful for letting you fight all of them alone. I'm sorry."
For a split second, you felt your stomach churn when he said that. You fighting them all alone...
Memories of him flooded your mind.
'What if we lost, cap? What then?'
'Well, we'll lose as a team- together.'
He always reassured you that you'd go down together as a team. That memory warmed you, only momentarily as something else rushed back at you.
The fight at Titan.
You remembered how it all lead to that. How the Avengers had been split. Those damn Sokovia Accords. You remember watching the light in Steve's and Tony's eyes changed as they looked at each other, already knowing their decisions at heart.
You remember how you told them explicitly that you didn't want your second family to break apart. How Steve himself said it won't.
You foolishly trusted him at the time- maybe it was the naive child in your heart that didn't want to face the harsh reality.
You remember the fight at the airport. How that had marked the end of what you knew as the OG Avengers.
And at Titan... How you had all fought so valiantly, but it just didn't amount to anything.
How you two were separated when you lost almost everything. Pete. Your friends at home. Humanity's faith in their heroes. Your pride and dignity. Hell, you even lost your own...
You glanced away from Steve as you rubbed your arm tenderly.
It was burning.
"It's cool, Steve. No bad blood. But thanks, for the uh, apology."
You lied, hidden shame dripping from your words.
In your timeline, and even now, you were still bitter over the fight at the airport. Bitter for finding an injured and nearly frozen Tony at the old H.Y.D.R.A. base. Bitter for being lied to, about losing as a team. Bitter because Steve had thrown away everything you had given him. Your trust, your hope, your deepest secrets... Everything.
Of course, you aren't as bitter as you were at the moment- after all, years had passed since then-, but you were still bitter nonetheless.
To the point where you made it obvious during your timeline; you wouldn't speak to him- and everyone who sided with him, even Natasha, much to your regret- unless it was business. You ignored every advance he made towards you, didn't respond to his small talk, etcetera.
Was it immature? Yes.
But did he ever apologize to you, even when he had more than literal years to do so? No.
All he did was walk back into your life as if nothing had gone down between you two. And what hurt was that it was all purely because it was business related. He didn't come back because he wanted to fix the relationship between you two.
It was because he had to.
Not because he wanted to.
Granted, one side of you understood that he was still on the run, but just... You would've even taken the smallest of hints that he at least thought about you.
At that point, you being bitter was more because he had never attempted to make amends with you rather than what he had done to your dad- at least with him, Steve had apologized, he did, but with you?
You got nothing, and you were hurt.
Your father was more forgiving of them- even inviting them in for lunch when they first approached your parents' retirement home for business. You would be lying if you didn't glare daggers at them the whole time, especially at Steve.
The air was tense. It was like both of you shouldn't be here, in the same room, together. But neither of you got up before Steve spoke up.
"You know, I- we," Steve coughed, "We were surprised, you know? There was a lot of guys in there."
You could tell the poor guy was trying to lighten the mood. Change the subject, you suppose. It was much needed, especially between the two of you. You knew this Steve didn't deserve to be around you while you were moody because of his future self.
That wasn't fair.
"Really? You think I can't handle myself?"
You teased. Steve smiled at you, the tension in the air becoming less thicker than it was before.
"Honestly speaking? Not really."
Steve chuckled as you shoved him playfully with a fake-offended 'hey'. You smiled at him, almost relieved. You rubbed your wrist as you pulled down your sleeve to cover the red marks up. 
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"And I told him I was fine, but he didn't believe me and did it anyway!"
Your body shook with laughter as Steve chucked with you.
You two had been talking for a while now, and it had progressed from the mission to Steve reminiscing during his time before he was a frozen. He was telling you about how Bucky would fret over him since he used to be a sickly guy. Always getting into trouble, as well. 
Some things just never seem to change, especially in the future.
"Can't really blame the guy, can you?"
He shook his head with a reluctant smile.
You're leaned back on your chair as Steve's half sprawled across your bed, only his elbow propping him up as he rolls his eyes.
"Not really... Though I would've appreciated if he had let me do my own thing."
A comfortable silence filled the room. Your eyes wandered over Steve's relaxed position. It was rare you ever got to see the man not worked up; he was always either training or trying to keep up with the world, which objectively is hard work.
"I don't really think I ever told you this, but...," You quietly spoke up as Steve stared at you with curiosity, "I always liked hearing about, you know, your life before being frozen."
Steve perked up with a surprised smile.
"Really?"
You hummed quietly and closed your eyes. You nodded your head side to side as Steve eyed your peaceful state.
"Yeah... offer's insider knowledge of a different time without talking to a bitter old person, you feel?"
Steve was silent, but not for long.
"Well... Is there anything you wanna hear more about?"
You opened your eyes just a tiny bit and pursed your lips. You squinted at him and hummed loudly.
"Hmm..."
What was there to know more about Steve? You already knew more than you'd like, and while you wouldn't mind hearing Steve repeat the same story once again, you'd rather hear something else.
"Anyone that was special to you?" He opened his mouth, "Other than Mr. Barnes?"
You chuckled when he shut his mouth again with an eye-roll. The guy always took whatever chance he got to ramble on and on about Bucky, even though you secretly didn't really mind it.
You were trying to fish for maybe someone else other than Bucky- you already knew first hand how special he was to Steve.
Steve thought for a moment before he spoke up again. His voice was soft as he smiled and looked at his hands.
"Well, there was this one gal... Her name was Peggy. She was my best gal."
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"That's... That's rough, buddy."
Steve half-smiled at you.
He told you about Peggy, who was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent during his time. Apparently, he had fallen in love with her and promised her a dance right before he, well...
You clicked your tongue.
"Well... It's not really... Healthy, to you know, be hung up on people of the past, you know?"
You knew that first hand. The first few months after the snap, you were teetering on the edge of madness as you grieved heavily for your lost friends.
It was... A rough patch in your life. Never before had you ever gone so near to the brink of no return before your family- the ones still alive- had managed to reel you back in just on time.
While you knew that Steve was strong and that it wasn't really the same thing, it still wasn't that pleasant of a feeling to still be dependent on someone you once knew.
Though, it did just now occur to you how bad that sounded when you were just greeted with silence from the super soldier.
"Of course, not to say that you should forget her altogether, I just... I-"
You tried backtracking, but Steve shook his head with a smile.
"No, I get it. Actually, Natasha's been trying to help me with that. Moving on."
You raised an eyebrow. This was the first you've heard of this- you knew they were close, but you would've never thought that close. 
You supposed that during that long timespan that you never really saw Natasha and Steve, they could've gotten real chummy together, but... Something still bugged you.
"Wait, hold up, I thought Nat was into Bruce?"
There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. 
It was- so you thought- mildly well known between everyone on the team of the weird tension between Banner and Romanoff. Always sending each other looks under the table, the sly smiles- there was no way she wasn't into Bruce.
Hell, even in the future, there was still the tension between the two of them- even if Bruce was, like, triple the size he was before.
And green.
Steve felt conflicted. What in the world are you talking about? He was quiet for a short moment before his eyes widened wildly. He stifled a chuckle as his shoulders shook.
"(Name), no, what I meant was she was trying to get me to date other people."
Your lips were pressed in a thin line as your eyebrows shot up.
"Oh, welp-"
You couldn't help yourself as you laughed along with Steve. The previous weight in the air from the topic of Peggy was lessoning a tad bit, just like earlier.
You two calmed down just a little bit, but you still held a toothy grin as you licked your lips.
"Well, has it been working? Any fine gals that caught Mr. America's attention?"
You teased him. You wouldn't really be surprised if he said no- he doesn't really seem like the type to go prowling around for someone that interests him.
He's quiet as he glances at you. His jaw clenches as you're locked in a staring contest- granted you didn't really know why. He trails his eyes off of you as he stares at your wall absentmindedly.
"I wouldn't say that necessarily..."
He doesn't really look at you as silence settles in the room once more, though you can't really tell what the mood of the atmosphere in there was.
He glances at your clock and smiles. It's a goofy looking clock- it looks like it's made for a kid- that has a miniature version of your Apex suit. The quality was obviously rushed, and chances are you probably bought it from a Target or something. Maybe Amazon.
"Well, I should get going by now. Heaven knows the amount of work we both need to do tomorrow."
You groaned loudly when you were reminded of tomorrow. Another day of school for you- though, you didn't know what he had going for him tomorrow. Maybe a solo mission from Fury?
Either way, it was getting kind of late and you both needed some shut-eye.
You watched as he got up from your bed and rubbed his shoulder tenderly. You didn't blame him- being in the position he was in, it definitely does a number on the shoulders.
You rolled your eyes as he groaned exaggeratedly. You slid down your chair just so you could stretch your legs and kick him in his knee pit.
He didn't buckle, much to your annoyance, as he chuckled when he saw you almost falling off your chair like a child.
"Ouch!"
"Oh, you'll live, big baby."
"Oh, thanks for your words of encouragement."
He laughed as he opened your door and as he was almost out the door, he popped his head back in as he remembered something. You raised an eyebrow as he had a cocky smirk on his face.
"Oh, and for your performance back at the last mission- I'm upping your training regiment. Good job, champ."
His head dipped out of your door as you nearly fell off of your chair. The door slammed as you hopped over to your door and yell out your room. You watched as Steve's figured disappeared over a corner, his laughing echos through the empty floor.
"Wha- hey no! That's illegal! Ste- get back here! Steve!"
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Masterlist
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Tag: @unsolvetheheckoutofit
201 notes · View notes
ventivante · 5 years
Text
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summary | can be found here! genre | jennifer’s body!au, college!au, horror, supernatural, humor, angst; wooyoung x reader, mingi x reader warnings | demon!wooyoung, violence/blood, death (of the murder variety), language, light eventual smut, toxic friendships, yandere themes, occult/supernatural themes, really bad early 2000′s slang word count | 2.4k
DISCLAIMER: this fic contains lots of dark subject matter and i will put any specific trigger warnings before each part. i do not condone the unhealthy relationships portrayed in this fic, nor do i believe the characters’ real life counterparts to display these behaviors. also, i hope to update this fairly consistently, though i can’t guarantee that i will update part x on x day at x time. regardless, i hope you enjoy!
A loud thunk had woken you from a restless slumber and you peeled your eyes open to stare at the dark ceiling of your room. Had you imagined that? Or were you still half-asleep and hearing sounds from your dream? Had you even been dreaming in the first place?
Thunk.
You sat up in bed—you definitely hadn’t imagined it that time. In your groggy state, you tried to reason with yourself that it was nothing—it could just be your cat.
It took you several moments to come to your senses and remember that you didn’t own a cat.
Internally, you groaned, but kicked the blankets off to search for the source of the noise. You hoped you wouldn’t live to regret this stupid decision, if you lived at all. Suddenly, you weren’t feeling so brave as you conjured an image of a murderer lurking outside of your bedroom door. Much more hesitant now, you shuffled towards your bedroom door in the darkness, deciding it best not to alert a possible intruder that you were awake. Hopefully, it was just your noisy neighbors again, who never seemed to sleep and enjoyed yelling at their computer screen into the early hours of dawn.
As you reached your door, you cracked it open and carefully peered out into the dim hallway. You were met with silence and all was still in your apartment. You waited a few moments, frozen in place, then you heard a creak echo down the hall. Your heart jumped into your throat, choking you with fear.
Before you could rethink your actions, you pulled the door open and stepped into the chilly hallway. Your apartment was surprisingly frigid and you hoped you were shivering because of the temperature and not because of how freaked out you were. It took what felt like hours to emerge from the hall and into the open kitchen and living area. Scanning the room, there was nothing out of the ordinary—no menacing shadows, no doors creaking open, and certainly no murderers.
You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that it had been nothing. You turned to head back to bed, when you caught sight of your backpack on the floor next to your kitchen table. It was lying sideways with your books spilling out onto the floor. It must have fallen off the chair it had been hanging on, causing the noises you had heard.
Now feeling ridiculous, you made your way over to your discarded backpack and picked it up from the floor. As you gathered up the books, you cursed the education system and its role in making you think someone had broken into your apartment. Once everything was put back into place, you straightened and decided it was time to head back to bed.
As you turned, came face to face with someone standing only inches from you and your heart once again shot into your esophagus. You jumped back with a shriek and pressed a hand to your chest, only to let out a relieved sigh a moment later. Standing in front of you was your best friend since childhood, Wooyoung.
“Dammit, Wooyoung! You scared the shit out of me!”
You had no idea what on earth he was doing in your apartment at this ungodly hour, but it wasn’t a complete shock since he had a spare key. However, after getting a better look at the boy, it became quite apparent that something was terribly wrong. Through the dark of the kitchen, the moonlight that filtered in streaked over his gaunt-looking face, giving him a ghastly appearance. Most startling though were the dark stains trickling out of his mouth, coating his chin and dripping onto the linoleum. Your eyes trailed lower on his frame and you gasped again—his clothes were torn and ripped, but also wet and covered in what appeared to be a mixture of dirt and . . .
Was that blood?
“Jesus, Wooyoung, what happened?” you asked, reaching for him with shaky hands.
Even as you stepped towards your friend, he remained frozen, eyes fixed on you for what felt like an eternity. You latched onto his wrist and attempted to pull him closer so you could inspect any wounds but he would not budge.
“Wooyoung, what’s going on?” you asked, your earlier anxiety returning as you studied your silent best friend.
Wooyoung still didn’t respond, only continued to stare at you with a blank, unfocused look. If you were completely honest, this entire situation was starting to freak you out more than you had been before. Instead of speaking, Wooyoung’s lips slowly curled upwards in a sadistic smirk, revealing teeth coated red with blood.
You stumbled back at the sight, releasing his wrist and falling back against the counter. As you backed away, Wooyoung whipped around with a low snarl and made a beeline straight for the refrigerator. He flung the door open and began to rifle around inside, tossing random items on the floor, looking for something in particular. You continued to watch him, motionless as he threw a carton of milk onto the ground behind him. The dim light emanating from the fridge illuminated his form and you could see that he indeed was covered in blood.
A lot of blood.
“W-Wooyoung, are you hurt?” you tried softly, only to be ignored.
The younger male then pulled out a container and ripped the lid off, letting it drop on the floor without a care next to the slowly expanding pool of milk at his feet. Wooyoung studied the contents of the Tupperware for only a moment before reaching in and fisting what appeared to be raw hamburger you’d been meaning to cook the entire week. You watched in horror as Wooyoung shoved the handful of raw meat into his mouth and began to chew slowly.
“What the fuck?!” you shrieked, finally driven to action.
You were intending to snatch away the potential salmonella poisoning your longtime friend was undoubtedly contracting, had it not been for the animalistic howl Wooyoung released as he saw you approach. You froze then, a chill running across your skin at the noise. He hadn’t even sounded human.
The next moment, Wooyoung was sinking to his knees and gagging. You found yourself lowering with him, even from your spot several feet away. Helplessly, you hung back as your friend began to retch almost violently on the floor. Black ooze began to spill from his open mouth in heaving amounts, more than physically possible. You were hypnotized by the sight, wanting to look away but unable to as the black substance crawled towards the previously spilled milk and mixed together.
After Wooyoung had finished, his head snapped up and he grinned at you maniacally once more. His teeth, stained with blood and black, almost glinted in the dim light.
“Are you scared yet?”
Your eyes snapped open then and you were met with the morning rays of sunshine peeking through your window. You could faintly make out the chirping of birds outside, alerting you of the approaching day. It took a few moments before your racing pulse settled and you let out a breath.
It had all been a dream.
A really, really bad dream.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You weren’t exactly sure you wanted to go to your classes for the day. Something about the nightmare had left you deeply unsettled and lost in thought. Worst of all, it made you want to avoid any possible contact with Wooyoung. After he had stormed out of the party the other night, you knew things were gonna be awkward between you two. You had texted him after the party but he had remained strangely unresponsive. Even so, your hands shook so badly when you had tried to reach out to him this morning that you ultimately gave up.
In the end, you decided it was best to swallow your worries and trudge on through the day as if nothing bothered you. That wasn’t easy though, because the nightmare was still at the forefront of your mind as you settled into your seat for your first class. Haphazardly, you pulled your materials from your bag completely on autopilot. Your body was moving like normal, but you felt a thousand miles away. As you stared down at the blank page in front of you, all you were able to think about was Wooyoung’s twisted smirk from your dream and his teeth stained with blood.
“Boo!”
You jumped at the sound of the very person you didn’t want to see sliding into the seat next to you. Wooyoung gave you an impish grin and laughed lightly at your reaction as he sank into his chair. You studied him for several moments wordlessly. He was clean and dressed smartly in dark jeans and what appeared to be a new leather jacket. His hair was also neatly combed and pushed out of his eyes, something that was often rare for Wooyoung this early in the day.
There was no trace of blood, dirt, or that disturbing black goo to be found on him. So why was it that those things were all you could see?
Wooyoung glanced at you one more time and snorted under his breath. “I know I’m good-looking, but you don’t have to stare, cat eyes.”
You blinked at his bold statement but still looked away. Cat eyes? What kind of an insult was that?
You risked another peek over to your friend as he sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Again, you were still taken aback by his presence and half-expected him to be avoiding you as well. More often than not, Wooyoung skipped this class, so his presence was unexpected. You also hadn’t seen or heard from him since the party two nights ago and now he was acting as if none of the events that unfolded that night even happened.
“Hey,” you started, to which Wooyoung immediately met your eyes. “What happened to you? After the party, I mean. You never texted me back.”
Wooyoung shrugged noncommittally. “You seemed pretty cozy with your new friend, didn’t want to interrupt.”
There was a hint of hostility in his answer, which made you sink lower into your seat. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and also ashamed. Wooyoung still thought you had ditched him at the party. Though, to be fair, ditched was a strong word. If anything, he had been the one to ditch you, considering he had been the one to leave you by yourself.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you told him. You didn’t think you needed to apologize, but you couldn’t bear anymore potential tension wedging between the two of you, and Wooyoung was too stubborn to admit any wrongdoing.
“It’s not a big deal, I’m over it,” Wooyoung smiled at you as he began to dig through his bag for his own notebook. “It’s about time you got yourself laid.”
The crass remark was nothing new, but it definitely had a bite.
You thought back to that night, still as confused as you had been when Wooyoung had stomped away from you and the boy who had captured your attention, a dance major named Mingi, after informing Wooyoung you wanted to stay longer. Nothing had happened between you and Mingi after he had left—Mingi had walked you home and then you exchanged numbers, nothing more. However, judging from Wooyoung’s attitude, getting snubbed for a guy you had just met really bothered him.
Initially you had thought it was going to be yet another party Wooyoung drug you to where you ended up hovering awkwardly around him the entire night. He had always been more outgoing than you, but refused to attend these parties by himself. In the end, you always resigned and tagged along, otherwise he would never let you live it down.
However, you had barely been at the large frat house ten minutes when Mingi had swooped in and began to chat you up. You warmed up to him immediately, as it would be impossible not to like his charming personality and crooked smile. He made you feel a bit more at ease and you even forgot where you were for a while until Wooyoung had stepped in.
Wooyoung had a distinct cycle he followed whenever someone else had your attention: whine and begin to get clingy, try to win your affection back, and—depending on if he was successful in the previous step—openly gloat or leave when he failed. This had been the pattern over the course of your entire friendship—you knew he was being ridiculous during those moments, but he always apologized and you always forgave him.
It often made it difficult to keep any friends other than Wooyoung over the years, but the same could be said on his part as well. Even though Wooyoung was quite popular among the masses, his dramatic mood shifts and flair for the eccentric made it hard for him to keep closer friends aside from you. The two of you had been a constant for each other since junior high, accepting each other when no one else would. Despite your differences, you were ultimately all the other had.
So when he had left the party in a whirlwind after you rejected his offer to leave, you knew it would eventually blow over like it always had. But this felt different—something had told you to follow Wooyoung that night, but you ignored it. And then you had that bizarre dream about him, which made the entire situation even stranger.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you inquired, leaning closer to him just as the professor walked into the room. “Because I had this weird dream—"
“Never better,” Wooyoung responded coolly. “Don’t worry about a stupid dream, we both know how overactive your imagination is.”
Wooyoung then faced forward, signaling the end of your conversation and leaving you speechless as you studied his profile.
You wanted to believe him, you wanted to think that you were just hallucinating the past few days and that everything was fine. However, doubt was gnawing at the back of your mind, telling you that something wasn’t right.
After all, you were fairly certain you hadn’t imagined the faint traces of an ominous black stain on your kitchen floor as you left your apartment that morning.
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hnlijiug-a · 4 years
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General RP style and preferences
Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Strikethrough what does not. Elaborate on any points you’d like. Please be honest, we all want to find the people who work best with how we RP.
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____
     TYPES OF RP / HOW I DO THREADS: I don’t, I just do whatever is on my dash when I’m online | Mainly asks | I do little short things mostly | I do my threads on discord | Long running threads that slowly build upon the muses
my favourites are always longer threads, even when they start from asks. i love character development, and in general exploring what my muses would do or think in different situations. though i’m of course perfectly fine with short and funny things, but i always prefer to write a little more, even in funny moments.
     PLOTTING PREFERENCES: Wing it | Get a general idea ooc and then run with it & plot further if need be | Long expansive thought out story arcs
i love plotting, but i’m also here to have fun and i adapted myself pretty quickly. usually having a general, even if maybe vague, idea ooc before starting (or immediately after starting) helps me getting more into the thread (and usually more confident in writing it), but i’m absolutely into improvising everything. i play d&d....... i’m used to improv by now. :3c
     TYPE OF THREADS I DO / PREFER: Oneliners only | Whatever dash shenanigans I’m online for | Para or Multi para | Literal Novels
sometimes i get a little lost in what i’m writing and it becomes LONG... it’s not my fault... also i’d be in for any dash shenanigans, but unfortunately i’m not online enough to catch them. i’m usually very late for them, so... :’C
     REPLY SPEED FOR THREADS & CONSISTENCY & KEEPING THREADS I lose threads all the time & don’t usually get back to them | I tend to lose threads but please tell me if I have and I’ll reply! | I drop threads pretty easily | I’m really slow but I WILL get back to you | I reply on a schedule/queue (specify if you’d like) | I usually reply within a week | I reply every day | I reply almost instantly
it usually takes me a lot to reply to threads mostly because i’m detoxifying from the computer. i work with it and many hours are spent staring at the screen drawing or writing, and due to a lot of problems that the computer contributed to cause and a bit of dependency, i’m working to use it as little as possible. this is the reason i’m online this little, and threads take so long: since i also try to write them good, it’s already a lot if i reply to two in a single day. exceptions can be mostly on saturday and sunday, or on “free days” that i take, but rarely i do much more.
     ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL SHIPS I don’t do these ships (specify reason if you would like) | I’m not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog | All ships will have to be super slow burn & discussed a lot OOC, super chemistry based (specify reason if you’d like) | I love doing ships, HMU I probably already ship it just ask! | I ship really quickly | I autoship or ship within a few interactions | I mainly RP for the cute ship fluff or smut
i absolutely love shippings, but i’m also roleplaying for a lot of other reasons, so it tends to stay on the same page with other things i like to write. so it’s not a priority, but i love writing a good ship~ ... or a bad ship. i like roleplaying some crazy stuff sometimes.
     SMUT I do NOT do smut at all (specify reason if you’d like) | I’m very selective about it | I only do it on a separate (blog/discord/specify here) | I mainly only do asks relating to the subject on Sundays | I write it a medium amount | I write it all the time and love to
a big no here.
     ACTIVE HOURS { ROME TIMEZONE | GMT +2 } Mornings 8-10 | Midday 11-1 | Afternoon 2-5 | Evenings 6-8 | Night 9-12 | Ungodly hours of the day 1-onwards
between all things, especially trying to not depend so much on technology, i’m very little active. you might see me when here’s late evening, and i tend to go to bed around 11pm. ... so, exactly when the dash wakes up. of course. timezones. the bane of my roleplaying existence.
     ACTIVITY SCHEDULE SUPER slow and sporadic, like once a month or so | Slow and sporadic week long gaps between activity | Bi-weeklyish activity | Weekly activity (specify if there’s a certain time you have school/work/etc. off that you are most active) | Daily activity | I’m online nearly all the time
mianfei’s case makes things a little more tricky, since i have a single thread with him for now. having more threads probably would make me write here more often.
     STARTERS I don’t do starter calls | I want to do starter calls but often don’t have time | I do selective calls (generally one-liners every now and then) | I don’t do calls, but always feel free to ask me for one! | I do starter calls rarely/regularly/often
sometimes i don’t have time, sometimes they’re generally ignored, so starter calls are one of the things i do less.
     AUs I don’t do AUs | My blog is an AU but outside of that I don’t do them | I sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting | I have a couple of AUs already feel free to request them! | I have AUs coming out of my ears please interact with them! | I love making AUs HMU to plot if you think of one! | There are some AUs I won’t do (specify here)
i love aus, i’m the sovereign of aus. maybe not really on mianfei’s blog but i lllllove aus,,
     CROSSOVERS I don’t do crossovers (specify reason if you’d like) | I’m selective with crossovers (Only fandoms I know/interest me) | I love crossovers!
i generally have bad experiences with crossovers, but i’m always willing to try. they need to be plotted a bit though, or i can’t think of how the muses would interact.
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caiminnent · 4 years
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glass houses [Shaun & Lucy with mentions of one-sided shaundes & deslucy, rated T]
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Prompt(s): sleep deprivation (BTHB, 2/25) + 14
Summary: “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed
Tags: College AU, Bonding, Pining, Unrequited Crush
2.3K || Also on AO3.
Forty three—no, forty two minutes left to have lunch, get his essay printed and rush to Leonardo’s office on the other side of the campus—and Rebecca is still droning on and on about the part next Saturday, because clearly the life he doesn’t have is more important than the grade he won’t be getting unless they pick up the pace already. Murder on school grounds would probably get him expelled, among other things, which is why he’s only contemplating it; but an under-slept, under-caffeinated man has his limits and he is approaching his fast.
“No, Rebecca,” he repeats on a deep sigh as they finally get in line behind a couple in matching PJ’s, seemingly having a heated argument through sharp looks and contained gestures in that way only couples can. “I do not want to come to the party, thank you very much. I’m not even invited, remember?”
“I could ask Lucy,” she offers, unfazed. “We’re having lunch with her anyway, I could mention it then—”
His stomach drops.
“—I’m sure she won’t mind. I mean, the more the merrier—”
Taking a deep breath through his nose, “We’re what?” he cuts in. The Couple glance over with raised brows and pursed lips, as if he sullied their petty issues by having his own.
She frowns. “What?”
He just shakes his head. Lunch with Lucy, Christ. Today just keeps giving. “You won’t ask her to invite me,” he says, pinning her with his I Mean It, Rebecca look. “Or don’t even hope for a single page from my notes ever again.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll swear on anything, Rebecca.”
Fishing her phone out of her pocket, “Whatever,” she throws, fingers already dancing on the screen. His own remains suspiciously silent in his bag. “What’s your beef with Lucy anyway?”
The Couple aren’t even pretending not to listen in, half-turned in their direction as they are. He glares steadily at them until they get their noses out of his business and back into their own, although some of those meaningful looks are probably about him this time. Hell if he cares.
“I don’t even know Lucy,” he points out, rubbing at the throbbing spot over his brow—not that that’s ever helped. “Why would I have a problem with her?”
“You get weird whenever I mention her, man. Coulda thought you had a thing for her if I didn’t know better.” Pockets the phone again, shrugging a shoulder at his look. “It’s either that or hate.”
Oh for the love of— “I don’t hate her, either,” he says—the truth, too, no matter the disbelieving face she makes at him. He has no real reason to hate Lucy. He just... doesn’t prefer to share space with her if he doesn’t absolutely have to.
If he sometimes goes out of his way to make sure he doesn’t, well.
By some miracle—more likely, because they’re finally within reach of food—she drops the subject, shoving a tray into his hands and grabbing one of her own. His stomach curls into itself at the sight of half the containers, the other half he can’t even recognise beyond had it before and didn’t die.
He accepts a serving of each and trails off after Rebecca.
Once they push past the growing crowd towards the tables, scanning the sea of heads, “You should try to get along with Lucy, you know,” she pipes up—because Rebecca leaving anything alone would’ve been too much like good luck to happen to him. “You know who she’s friends with.”
“Rebecca.”
“I’m just saying. Sheesh, someone’s touchy today.”
And whose fault is that, he’s about to snap when he spots Lucy off to the side, dumping an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee—from Creed Coffee, no less. His first stop as soon as he drops off his essay; he’s earned a treat.
Because it’s just that kind of day, Lucy chooses that moment to look up and catch him staring like a buffoon. She beams at him like there was no one she would’ve been happier to see, waving them over.
“There she is,” Rebecca says, taking a sharp turn in her direction. He follows suit, squeezing between tables she breezes through and almost spilling his chow all over people on three separate occasions until they safely take their places across from Lucy.
To his credit, when Lucy smiles at him again, he does try to return it. His face muscles ignore the command entirely.
The women have already jumped into conversation on nothing he particularly cares about; he tunes them out for the most part and buries himself into his ‘food’ instead, fielding Rebecca’s attempts to lure him in with one-word responses and the occasional grunt when he can get away with it. About twenty minutes left; he can make it if he hurries. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Ignore him,” she stage-whispers to Lucy—with ‘him’ sitting right next to them, thank you very much. “His coffee machine broke last night.”
The audacity. “She means she broke it,” he clarifies around his spoon. It’s not grumbling if he’s right.
“Semantics,” she waves it off, reaching for her coat. “I’ll fix it when I get back, promise.”
“Wait, where the hell are you going?”
Raising her brows, “To turn in our papers, like we talked?” Rebecca says, confusion so thick in her tone that he almost doubts his own memory—except he could recognise that glint in her eyes anywhere. “You’ll keep Lucy company while I’m gone, right?”
That meddling little—
“Right,” he says for Lucy’s benefit, who is glancing between them with polite curiosity, doing his best to convey you owe me so much for this with one look. “Of course I will.”
Rebecca dares to grin at him, dropping the pretence altogether. All of three seconds and she’s off, leaving only an unused fork behind.
Without her around, the table has gone alarmingly smaller, Lucy everywhere within his sight unless he stares straight down at his tray. Had he ever been alone with Lucy before? Alone alone, within speaking distance, without anything or anyone to hide behind?
He doesn’t even have coffee to hide behind now.
One slides in front of him.
Raising her hands, “You look like you need it more,” Lucy explains, that too-warm smile on her lips; he feels shittier the longer he looks at it. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He did catch a sight of himself on the way here—not his best moment.
The polite no, thank you he should say is on the tip of his tongue—almost impossible to get out with the warm temptation is sitting right there in front of him, right under his nose, smelling—well, sort of like a unicorn exploded in there and caramel. Not that he can afford to be picky.  
Besides, he’s survived vending machine sludge; it only goes up from there.
“Come on, take it,” she insists, honest-to-god batting eyelashes at him. “So that I can feel a little better about asking for your ComLit notes next week.”
He snorts and accepts the bribe, only too eager. It’s syrupy to the point of nauseating, not unlike those energy drinks Rebecca fills the dustbin with, except with a lot less immediate kick. He doubts there’s any caffeine in there, even.
Magic might be involved, however, given the way he’s already feeling a tad closer to human.
He nods his thanks. She returns it.
“You know, Shaun,” she starts slowly, with an odd sort of caution—or maybe he’s just not used to people who think before they speak anymore. “I don’t know what Rebecca threatened you with, but you don’t have to sit with me just to be nice. I know you don’t really like me.”
He can’t help a wince—then a deeper one, when it hits that this was probably among the worst ways he could’ve reacted to a statement like that. Leave it to him to put his foot in his mouth without even opening it.
“It’s fine,” she adds, saving him from himself. “I mean it. Not everyone has to be friends.”
That’s not it, not at all.
Thing is, under different circumstances, they could’ve been friends, he and Lucy. He doesn’t know her, not really; but by the electives they keep coming across each other in and the books she carries, he doesn’t doubt they could find plenty to talk about if, if, he could get his head out of his arse and get over—
Well. He obviously can’t tell her all that.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not you,” he allows, the closest thing to an explanation he can afford to give.
“It’s okay,” she says gently, those huge, impossibly blue puppy eyes of hers trained on his. “I know.”
Blood freezes in his veins.
It’s a simple phrase. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond the face value. There’s no reason for it to; he’d been careful—more than, really—but that smile, all sadness and sympathy—
He swallows against the bitter taste in his mouth, a light burn all the way down his throat, pooling in the pit of his stomach. “You do?”
“I do,” she confirms, jerking her head somewhere to his far right. He follows her gaze to—
Oh, hell. She does.
“He doesn’t know,” she answers his unasked question, lowly enough that the rush of blood in his ears almost drowns out the words. “Don’t worry, you’re not obvious about it or anything.”
Clearly he is, if she noticed.
He risks another glance—he is sprawled on his seat with an arm resting on the other one, laughing at whatever bollocks story Cross might be telling, that stupid one-strap bag of his sitting on the table.
“You’re sure he doesn’t?” he has to ask, heart both at his feet and racing in his chest somehow.
She nods. “Positive. He’s the worst when it comes to this sort of thing, you wouldn’t believe it. He won’t notice unless you come at him with a brick that says I like you.”
Something at the back of his mind prickles like static.
See, past the initial shock, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’d gone wrong. As far as social circles go, his and his are on different planes entirely. They don’t have mutual friends beyond the tangential; they don’t frequent the same places unless Rebecca drags him out to Bad Weather; they hardly talked enough for him to develop this… thing he’s been saddled with, even. He’d thought—as long as he kept to his corner of life where he doesn’t have to face them, he’d thought he could pretend his feelings away.
It had never even occurred to him that someone might notice him not looking. That someone might have reason to care why.
He’s fairly certain of the answer when he asks, his stomach heavy with dread, “Speaking from experience?”
Her face goes carefully blank. It’s as good a confirmation as any.
He takes a deep breath, locking the irrational sting of disappointment down and away, where he can pretend it doesn’t exist, either. What does it matter if she is the competition? He had decided not to pursue that line of thought long ago. What does it matter if he’d already lost?
“You’re not obvious, either,” he tries. She smiles, if that rueful little curl can be called one. “He doesn’t know?”
She shrugs, too nonchalant to actually be that. “Or doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. I dropped, like, a lot of hints; no one’s that oblivious.”
Would it be awkward if he kind of sort of maybe wants to give her a hug?
It would, wouldn’t it.
What even is his life.
“Anyway,” she sighs, glancing at her watch. “Time to leave. Vidic’s class.”
Ugh. That he doesn’t envy her for. “Good luck,” he offers, reaching for the cup again—a bit sorry to have taken it from her, now.
She makes a face. “Thanks.” She drops her spoon on her mostly full tray, Rebecca’s abandoned fork with it. “By the way, it’s his birthday next Saturday. We’re having a party at our place; you should come.”
He almost chokes on the next sip, saved by a stray half second. “Me?”
She raises a brow, a perfectly arched duh.
His brain stutters. Why does she—why would she want him there, if she knows? If she—
It makes no sense.
Lucy is still seated across from him, calmly waiting him out like there’s nothing odd to this. Just two friends making casual weekend plans.
Not all that sure it’s not the exhaustion fucking with him, he licks his lips. “So you’re fine with…”
“That you’re on the same boat?” She shrugs again, zipping up her jacket. “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”
Huh.
Digging into her bag, she comes up with a blue marker, reaching for the other cup. “My number,” she says as she writes on the sleeve and puts it back, written part facing him—all neat, efficient lines, because of course. “Let me know if you make up your mind.”
He nods blankly, for lack of a better response. She smiles, standing up with her tray.
She’s already halfway to the door when he remembers: “I’ll bring the notes!”
She winks at him over her shoulder, fixes her bag and disappears into the crowd.
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grimey--gal · 5 years
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For the anon:
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Andy did not plan on being so late from work, but it wasn’t his fault.
After a long day at work, he’d found his eyes crossing several times while trying to take inventory.  He was exhausted then, and he’s exhausted now.
His eyes can barely stay open, and he’s still fumbling with the doorknob before he remembers he’d locked the door – which means another few minutes spent on searching for his keys and then back to fumbling with the doorknob, only this time the keyhole’s involved.
The apartment is dark, but he can hear noises coming from the bedroom, and there is a strip of light against the hallway, so he knows that Chucky is awake still. There is the faintest sound of the television on, and he shakes his head, grinning stupidly. Chucky will never admit it, but the both of them know he can’t stand sleeping alone. Never mind the fact that Chucky can stay awake until ungodly hours of the night; it’s still an obvious factor that when he does finally go to sleep, it’s restless and unsatisfactory unless Andy is there.
Not that Andy isn’t guilty of that weakness himself. He’s aware that sometimes he spoons Chucky in his sleep without meaning to. The two of them have made a pact; Andy doesn’t make fun of the angry messages on his phone subliminally begging him to come home, and Chucky doesn’t make a scene when he wakes up with Andy’s arms around him.
He slips off his shoes at the door and leaves his keys on the counter, and he shuffles down the hall to the bedroom.
He hears it before he sees it, and had he not already opened the door, he would have tried to leave Chucky alone until he had pulled himself together. But his sleep deprived brain moved slower than his hand, and he had already entered the room to be greeted full on with Chucky cross-legged on the edge of the bed, flushed and scowling in frustration, tears falling heavily down his face. He grips the comforter tighter around him as soon as he hears the door, and immediately sets his burning gaze on Andy’s flustered figure in the doorway.
“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking,” he snaps, but his voice wavers, and it only makes him blush darker and Andy’s palms sweat.
“This is my room, you know,” Andy responds. His throat is very dry. “If you wanted privacy, you should have gone in your own.” His hand is still on the doorway, and he realizes he is gripping it too tightly. Confrontation still has a terrible effect on him.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Andy,” Chucky retorts, and now he isn’t looking Andy in the eye. He reaches for a glass bottle besides him and unscrews the top, taking a long drink before setting it down, still sniffling unceremoniously. “I get it. Don’t fuckin’ patronize me like I’m some moron.”
Andy almost points out that his nose is running, but his brain catches his tongue this time. Instead, he finally gets the courage to let go of the knob and sits next to Chucky, with just enough space between them that he knows is a comfortable distance. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and glances up at the screen, where the final scene of Toy Story is ending just before the credits roll.
“Were you…?” Andy starts to ask, and bites his tongue, but it’s too late.
“Shut up,” Chucky growls, wiping his eyes and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can near the dresser. It lands with a loud clank, and Andy is a little impressed that his aim is so good while obviously very drunk. “Just shut up. I get it, you wanna go to sleep. I’m going.”
He’s changing the subject, like he always does when he doesn’t want to discuss whatever it is that’s bothering him. Andy can’t fault him for doing it; if it were him in this position, he would probably do the same.
Chucky shrugs the comforter off his shoulders and makes an attempt to slide down from the bed, but as soon as his feet hit the floor he’s losing his balance, and Andy barely reacts quickly enough to catch him before he falls over completely.
“I’m not fuckin’ drunk,” Chucky protests.
“Of course you’re not,” Andy replies. His hands keep a hold on Chucky’s arms though.
He sighs. “Look, why don’t you just stay here with me,” he suggests as gently as possible. Chucky only seems to bristle under the caring tone in his voice.
“No, thanks,” he spits. He tries to walk out of Andy’s grip but ends up on his knees instead. He reaches into his hair and almost pouts. “My head hurts…”
Andy leans off the bed and steadies Chucky into a sitting position. “We both know how this is going to end anyways, you know,” he murmurs with a small yawn. “Why don’t we skip the arguing part and just get to the conclusion?”
Chucky nods his head, but it’s almost lopsided, as if his head is too heavy. Andy assumes it’s from his intoxication. He understands; he’s been there before.
“Whatever you say, asshole,” Chucky is mumbling, but his voice is very meek, almost submissive, and even the cursing at the end has little to no effect. Andy doesn’t know how to feel about it. He’s almost a little worried.
It’s when they tumble under the sheets that Andy discovers it was right of him to be concerned.
“You deserve better, you know that?” Chucky says, and that’s how it starts. Andy feels Chucky’s small hands patting his face and his neck. Then he hears Chucky crying again, only this time, he’s not trying to hide it. “You deserve so much better than me.”
Andy doesn’t quite know what to do. Chucky has never been this open, after all, and Andy suspects it’s not going to stop here. He knows how poisonous alcohol can be, loosening your tongue to say things you never meant to say. So he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he just gives in to the need to hold Chucky, and threads his fingers into his hair.
“I mean it. I fuckin’ mean it,” Chucky babbles. “I’m such an asshole, and you’re like, I don’t know, so nice to me. All the time. I don’t deserve that.”
“I’m not always nice to you,” Andy reminds him, but Chucky is beyond listening.
“And you don’t even know,” Chucky goes on, grabbing small fistfuls of Andy’s shirt. It’s then Andy realizes he hasn’t changed yet. It’s fine. He’ll change in the morning; it’s too late now that he’s already in bed. Chucky trembles against him, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose Andy if he lets go. “You don’t know, and it’s my fault. It’s all my fuckin’ fault…”
“I don’t know what?” Andy consoles him, and he doesn’t know why, but he does. Maybe because he knows Chucky probably won’t remember it in the morning. Maybe because this is the first time he’s heard Chucky open up his heart and be so genuine and so raw with him. It doesn’t matter. It’s too late now, and he’s said it. And he feels the way Chucky responds to it, the way he seems to shiver and slide only closer to him when he talks to him like this. “What don’t I know?”
“I love you,” Chucky’s sobbing now, and he rubs his face in Andy’s chest. “I love you so much – it hurts a lot, you know? Fuck you. I love you so much it really, really hurts. And I’m really fuckin’ scared. I’d deserve it if you left, but I can’t stand the thought of how much it’d hurt if I lost you.”
Andy isn’t drunk, but he wishes he was. He doesn’t know what to say.  
“It’s not… it is fair. I’m sorry – that was so stupid – I’m so stupid – it is fair. I really would deserve it. I just hate being so frightened.” Chucky will never stop, Andy knows. He also knows Chucky will hate himself in the morning, and that he will somehow have to pay for it. Even though Chucky is the one who decided to drink too much at such an ungodly time.
At the same time, he’s heartbroken to hear everything that Chucky says. And it’s worse because he doesn’t know what words will comfort him. This is the first time Chucky has ever said anything like this, and Andy is heartbroken because these words mean this is what Chucky has felt for a long time now. He now knows this means Chucky has been trying to hide this and suffering from it for a while, and suddenly all of Chucky’s ornery anger makes sense. The pieces have all fallen into place.
He’s been pushing Andy away because he feels like he doesn’t deserve him. But he stays because he doesn’t know what he’d do without Andy. What a hopeless cycle.
This is what breaks his heart.
“Hey,” Andy murmurs softly, but firmly, as he’s really intent on soothing Chucky now, especially now that he has more of a grasp on the situation. His heart is pumping from the concern; he is nowhere near tired anymore, the adrenaline surge of protection in his veins. “Hey. Look at me.”
Chucky seems to respond to the authoritative tone he takes on. He lets Andy tilt his chin up, still crying helplessly. There is no retort, only the soft chant of Andy’s name and the devotion of love falling from his mouth as the tears continue to spill.
Andy knows Chucky might be angry in the morning. But at the same time, if these feelings have all been hidden for so long and Chucky is ashamed of them, he can’t let Chucky continue to think he has to keep hiding them. He can’t.
He doesn’t know what to say. But he rubs Chucky’s back, surprised at how soft his skin is now.
“You’re so soft,” he admits, before he can stop himself, and Chucky seems to only cry harder.
“I know,” Chucky cries, obviously distraught by this. “I’m turning human. I’ll be a dumbass fuckin’ midget.”
“Stop that,” Andy reprimands. It’s stupid, oh it’s so stupid – but Chucky is whimpering and shaking in his arms – and so he kisses his forehead. He does this more than once, and he tries not to think too much about it.  “You’ll be a human again. It doesn’t matter how small you are.”
He takes Chucky’s face in his hands and tilts it towards him again, just to make himself clearer. “Don’t say that again. You’re a human being, you understand?”
Chucky nods, but he’s still beside himself, and Andy can’t stay firm for long. This amount of vulnerability is too alarming for him.
He feels terrible, and even though he knows there’s no way he should have known, he wishes there was some way he had. For Chucky to not only worry about their past, but to have to shoulder these insecurities as well? How could he not have seen it?
“I’ve loved you for so long now,” he says aloud, as he realizes it, and he can feel his cheeks burning. “I didn’t think about these things because none of them matter to me like they matter to you.”
He’s almost embarrassed. But then he remembers that not too long ago, Chucky practically wept that he loved him as well, and then his own apprehension feels petty.
“I don’t care about those things because I love you too, you idiot,” he presses, and he tries to ease the tension, but Chucky is curled under his chin again, completely undone.
“Andy, oh Andy, Andy, please, Andy,” Chucky is so helpless, and so, so very vulnerable. Andy is frightened by how violently he’s quivering under his touch. “I love you, I really, really – oh I really love you, I’m so scared, Andy, please…”
“Alright, okay,” Andy starts, but he doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t know what to do. He just runs his fingers through Chucky’s hair, right behind his ears, and tries his best to caress as gently as possible. “I’m right here. C’mere.”
“I can’t lose you,” Chucky moans. Then, “I’m so fuckin’ dizzy.” And then, “My stomach hurts.”
Even drunk, he is trying to divert Andy’s attention to something else, to avoid the subject. He’s still sobbing, and Andy hopes that he is doing the right thing now, hand tentatively reaching for Chucky’s stomach and rubbing. He’s soft here as well, and Andy suspects that Chucky is more human than he cares to admit. He wonders if the transition is complete, or if Chucky still has doll-like qualities anywhere.
He supposes he always will, what with being short and round eyed. He can see Chucky’s age showing through in his facial expressions sometimes, though, and knows that it’s Chucky really being Chucky in a new body. One that he doesn’t like, apparently.
And so he kisses him again, just where his cheek meets his earlobe. He wants to hit himself. He may as well be drunk himself, he feels like he’d be just as idiotic.
“Sorry,” he’s apologizing, but Chucky has other ideas, still trying to wind down from the tears.
“Hey,” he hiccups, suddenly distracted from his previous emotional breakdown. He’s still clutching Andy’s shirt, and he’s pulling at it to position Andy over him. He wouldn’t have succeeded, except Andy complies and tries not to crush him. Chucky’s frowning, but he doesn’t seem angry, just confused. Andy can see that he is still very dizzy.
“I like that,” Chucky says, simply, another hiccup and a sniffle following. Andy doesn’t know if he is mortified on his own, or mortified for Chucky. “Do that again.”
There’s no reason to be blushing, not really, but Andy feels himself heating up all the same. He stays perfectly still, outside of still mindlessly rubbing Chucky’s stomach.  
“I like your beard.” He’s touching Andy’s stubble gingerly now, and if it was not clear before, it is very clear now: Chucky is extremely drunk. In no universe would he ever dare to utter these things in sobriety. “It makes you look safe.” Chucky tugs at Andy again, and when he feels close enough, rubs his cheek against Andy’s.
It’s settled. Andy is feeling mortified for him, and prays that Chucky doesn’t remember a thing tomorrow.  
“Take care of me Andy,” he whimpers against his ear.  “I promise I’ll be good. Don’t leave me. I’ll be so fucking good to you. Cross my heart. Please take care of me… ”
His words are starting to slur. But Andy can still understand them enough to blush so fiercely he would swear his cheeks are on fire.
“Listen, I think you should probably try to go to sleep…” he starts, awkwardly, but Chucky is burying his nose under his chin, and muttering on how cruel Andy is for not kissing him more often.
Andy sighs, and tries to tuck them under the sheets. Chucky seems content with how Andy is holding him, and Andy adjusts the pillow. He leans to the side so that they’re facing each other, Chucky’s eyes blinking like he’s close to sleep. Andy feels himself giving into sleep as well.
“I’m serious, you asshole.”
Andy wakes with a start. He opens his eyes to Chucky scowling at him petulantly. “What are you talking about?” he asks, voice already groggy.
Chucky turns red, and it’s only the television the gives light to the way it reaches his ears. Andy suddenly remembers they never turned it off. It doesn’t matter. It’s faded noise compared to the rushing in his head from being woken so suddenly.
“About fucking … god damnit, Andy, are you going to make me say it again?” Chucky growls, and Andy can’t tell if he’s still drunk or not.
“Sorry,” he says again. He doesn’t know why. He rolls onto his side to face him, and pulls him close by his arms. “You just never seemed to want it before, that’s all.”
Chucky opens his mouth, then shuts it again. Then, “I..” And then, “Never mind.”
Andy catches his face again before he can pull away. “Don’t,” he almost growls, voice low. Dangerous, even. But it’s important to him, now more than ever. “I can’t have you hiding something like this from me and expecting me to just understand what it is you want.”
“Tell me what you want.”
The silence hangs heavily.
They are a breath apart. If it were not for Andy’s determination, Chucky may have very well pulled away. But they stay close, noses just on the brink of touching. Andy can feel Chucky’s skin warming under his fingertips, their pulses racing. It’s the loudest sound in the room.
           “Kiss me again,” Chucky growls at last, a deep scowl on his face. But Andy hesitates, and he crumbles quickly, adding a desperate and whispered, “please.”
           It’s all Andy needs, and it comes rushing as if a dam has been broken. Andy clambers overtop Chucky, and he is almost shaking as much as Chucky is. They are hurried and almost violent, with teeth catching lips and fingers digging into the other’s skin, bruising- marking. Chucky leans his head back into Andy’s hand, baring his neck, and Andy complies to the both of them, kissing and sucking. They are no one’s but each other’s, and they make it permanent now- Andy’s ragged breathing and Chucky’s soft moaning the only vocal testament.
“Oh, holy shit¸ fuck- for god’s sake, Andy, take me. Just take me already,” Chucky is practically begging.
“I’ll do nothing of the sort while you’re drunk off your ass like this,” Andy argues, despite wanting to do just that. “We’ll both hate ourselves in the morning for it.”  
“But I promise,” he continues, at Chucky’s crestfallen nature, “if you ask me again when you’re sober.” He cannot finish, Chucky pulls him close again for a kiss, and another, and another. He does not need to finish. It is understood.
“Promise me, promise me,” Chucky is falling prey to emotion again, but this time Andy is there to catch him. “Promise me this won’t end up being a shitty situation where I’ve been dreaming and you haven’t even come home yet.”
Andy almost laughs, but he catches himself just in time. “I promise. This is all real.”
The moment has cooled, but they tremble in each other’s arms still, the afterglow still lingering under their skin. Andy leans in to kiss Chucky along his cheekbone, across his forehead. Chucky catches his lips with his own, laughing hoarsely.
“I’m not dizzy anymore, finally,” Chucky says. And then:
“Why have I been such a fuckin’ idiot, for all this time?” he asks aloud, letting Andy kiss him again. “Why, Andy?”
“While I love to agree that, yes, you are an idiot- I gotta know. What gave you that sudden revelation?” Andy responds.
“You asshole,” Chucky retorts, but he’s grinning. Chucky looks away, but Andy can see the telltale blush creeping back onto his face.
“It feels so good to kiss you. It feels so good to be kissed by you.”
Andy finds himself grinning stupidly now. “I know. I could have told you that.”
Chucky shoves him. “Don’t be arrogant or I’ll take it all back,” he teases. Then he sighs. “It was that damn alcohol. And that damn movie.”
“So you were watching that…” Andy starts.
“Shut up,” Chucky says. Then, softer, “Listen to me.” And then, softer still, “I think I always knew what I wanted, I was just led to the point where I had to fuckin’ face it.” He’s pulling the covers closer to him, as if to hide himself. Andy doesn’t stop him, he just reaches for his hand under the sheets, and Chucky doesn’t pull his fingers away when Andy’s find them.
“I just wanted to really belong to you. To actually, really, be yours.”
“Are you still drunk?” Andy asks, just to be sure. Chucky peers at him from over the covers, if only to scowl at him in frustration.
“No. Yes. I know what I’m saying, Andy, don’t make this more difficult for me than it has to be,” he replies. “Yes, I was watching that stupid movie, okay? Yes, I was drunk off my ass. Yes, I heard your stupid name being said by stupid fictional characters with stupid fictional affection that made me want to barf and cry at the same time.”
He’s turned away again, but his fingers have not slipped out of Andy’s. In fact, they’ve tightened into a grip. “I heard him say he needed to get home to Andy and I realized that I- that I… I felt the same way, that you’re home.”
His voice cracks.
“You happy now, jackass?”
“Very,” Andy responds, simply, not wanting to draw out what Chucky seemed to consider torture any longer. He can’t stop grinning. “Just so you know, I’ve wanted you to be mine for a really long time, too.”
“Now I really am going to puke- and it’s not the alcohol,” Chucky mutters. “Roll the credits. Showtime’s over.”
Andy lays there, silently. He assumes that Chucky means to sleep now, and wonders if maybe he already regrets everything he’d said. But then Chucky tugs on his hand.
“And hold me, won’t ya’? Jesus, do you have any romantic bone in your body? We can’t both be heartless.”
Andy laughs into the pillow before complying.
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Midnight Circus pt.4
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☾pairing: Jungkook ♡→  reader ☾genre: Angst. Fluff. Mature content. badboy summer fling au ☾summary: “You’re ten times hotter this summer, you know that?” 
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | coming soon
Last night.
“How long are they gonna be in there?” You grumbled, crossing your arms. You were in the passenger's seat, Jungkook on the driver's side, Beah, and Tae left to get popcorn and it’s taking them longer than necessary. He let out an exasperated sigh, reclining his seat a bit. When you looked at him you had to remind yourself of who you were really looking at—Jeon Jungkook. The neon lights from the signs and the flashing light from the drive-in screen illuminated his features beautifully. He was too pretty, too breathtaking to be who he really was. Heartless with an ungodly presence, he seemed to embody temptations of the flesh.
“I’m cold…” He mumbled, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. His hand lingered on his thigh as if to tease you. You swallowed, directing your attention back to the movie. He knew what you were thinking—he’s come to take pride in his apparent control over your will but that’s not about to happen. “Come here, warm me up…” He let his legs drift farther apart, giving you room to crawl over to him. He decided he’d see how willing you were to resist. He moved his finger, signaling you to come like one would a pet.
“No.” You said that almost immediately, insisting on keeping your dignity in this car.
He grinned. “I dare you to.” 
“What’re you? Twelve? I said no. For someone who hates me, you sure won’t leave me the hell alone…” You hissed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the door—you didn’t even want to look at him, but you could hear him shifting around restlessness.
“I don’t know, you’re just fun to play with I guess…” His hand traveled to your thigh. “Other girls would already be half-naked and on me by now, but not you. You’re more entertaining than that, so…why don’t you come make yourself comfortable on my lap…like you did the other night.” You figured he wouldn’t shut up until you engaged him.
“Jungkook, stop…I don’t know why you keep doing this but I’m not falling for it again.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself—what you two were doing was toxic and wrong. The tension grew slowly. He sat up and you could’ve sworn he looked a little irritated like he was frustrated but didn’t want to say it.
“I dare you to kiss me Y/N…” He paused, catching you off guard with such a bold request. “I know you want to...You just need a little push...I think that’s one thing we can agree on, physically, we know each other well…” His eyes were dark and he had bad intentions laced with his words.
“That’s the most shallow thing I’ve ever heard in my life, you should be ashamed of yourself. A relationship based on the physical is- is just- just lust, it’s unhealthy and I want no part of it-” He grabbed your jaw, gently cutting you off by kissing you.
It’s happening again—you melted like ice under his fiery fingertips. His peachy pink lips were the key to your willingness, even just peck made you feel sparks. Like a rag doll, he picked you up and pulled you on to his visibly toned thighs, breaking the kiss in his wake.
You just gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to speak. Your hands pressed against his chest while his hands rested on your hips. He took this chance to press a kiss to your collarbone, the most lethal place to kiss. As nice as his lips were, you saw Tae and Beah in the distance, with more than a bag of popcorn.
“They-…” You cleared your throat, guilt washing over you slowly. “They’re coming back with the popcorn…I- I have to pee…” You opened the driver's side door, quickly trying to get out of your current position before anyone sees. You got out and just as you were about to walk off, Jungkoook pulled you back by your waist.
“Jungkook, please.” That sounded whinier than you intended and he laughed a little. You tried to get his hands off of you but he only continued his efforts.
“Your skirt was hiking up, I fixed it.” He gave you a sweet smile, letting you walk off to the small drive in restrooms.
That was last night—you hadn’t talked to him since then and you weren’t planning on it.
“We’re leaving this paradise tomorrow guys, this is the last day to do something crazy.” Naeun stood as if she was giving an ‘I have a dream’ kind of speech. 
“Why is doing something crazy necessary, can’t we just leave peacefully?” You questioned, eating your bowl of Cap’n Crunch as the others braid each other’s hair in front of the TV. “
“Y/n, you’ve already had your crazy experience.” With the crook of her brow, you found yourself clueless onto what she was referring to. “Let us have our fun?”
“What?”
“You've been hooking up with Jungkook.” She chuckled.
Your mouth opened in shock. “Not true! We have not been hooking up Naeun, where the heck did you get that idea?”
“Maybe the sudden disappearances of you when we’re all together. And the way Jungkook looks at you, it’s a dead give away.”
Beah had the most innocently confused look on her face when she looked at you then back to Naeun. “You and Jungkook are—?”
“Nothing, we’re nothing.” You sighed. “Look, there’s nothing-”
The front door flew open and silenced you, Jungkook stood there looking around until he saw you. You thought he was here for you but he diverted his gaze from you and walked towards the kitchen.
“They sent me over for popcorn.” He grumbled, looking on the counters for the bag. 
“I made sure we all had the same amount. How’d you kill it that fast?” Jennie said suddenly but she was forgetting that they were all full grown men—food wouldn’t last long. He hummed in an ‘I don’t know’ tone and glanced at you, then back at the door. 
Without a word, he was out the door and you found yourself thinking about the way he was trying to consciously not look at you—he wants me. You smirked, why was that so ego boosting for you? The mere fact that someone like fuckboyish, crude and annoying as hell but also absolutely gorgeous wanted you. Even if the thought of him rarely crossed your mind you found yourself daydreaming, and you didn’t like it. Why was it so bittersweet? To have him or to have him not, that was the question and it shouldn’t have been difficult to answer. The girls finally dropped the subject of you and Jungkook when you brought up the face regimen you’ve been following. You shouldn’t have let Jungkook consume your thoughts, you don’t like him, you like Jimin, and that was the complicated part. Jungkook was never supposed to kiss you like a feverish high schooler at the peak of his manhood or something
—were you supposed to be the means of his satisfaction? Heck no.
It was a warm summer night—the crickets chirped, the moon watched over you and the stars weren’t shy. Tonight is the last night at this place and the least you wanted from it was a nice swim, under the stars and away from everyone else. This seemed more antisocial than you intended but you needed some you time, your thoughts have been scattered and confusing ever since the very first incident with Jungkook. He managed to make you reevaluate your life in ways you didn’t think were possible. Like why did you let him do the things he does, it’s immoral and you weren’t an easy girl but it just happened? A lesson was learned when you two were at the carnival and Namjoon saw, this needs to stop sometime but you weren’t sure when—why does life have to be so cruel?
“Y/n?” 
At the call of your name, you looked back and there was Jimin, wearing a rash guard and some swimming trunks, he smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. 
“Oh, Jimin, Hi...” You watched him walk over and sit his towel on the pool chair not too far behind you. “You’re up late...”
“So are you, do you like to swim at night too?” He commented as he took off his shoes and sat them near his towel—his hair was so fluffy and blonde, you just wanted to fluff through it. 
“Yeah, it’s just a beautiful night, I thought I’d come out and enjoy it...” You kicked your feet a little bit in the cool water, it looked so pretty—like something you’d see in an aesthetic 80′s movie. 
“I love it,” He was already walking down into the water from the metal later thing on the edge of the pool. “it’s so relaxing.” He said that with a moan like a tone. His hair was pushed back and he began swimming with his head above the water. “But why aren’t you in the water?” He questioned, furrowing his brows in curiosity.
“I’m gonna get in...” You tight lip grinned, you really didn’t plan on getting in with someone else but you decided to be adaptable. Not every day did you have the opportunity to have a whole Park Jimin to yourself, might as well enjoy it. With suddenly shaky hands you took off your cover-up and sat it on the pool chair beside his towel, you wore a rash-guard in order to avoid mosquito bites and a pair of swimsuit bottoms. There are a number of girls who’d kill you to be in this position and for some reason that made you smile. You eased in slowly, testing out the water and then you just walked right into it, your head and some of your torso was above the water but not as much as Jimin.
“The movie and carnival were fun,” Jimin said, making small talk as you swam not too far from one another. He laughed, flashing that million dollar smile that had you at his will instantly. “but I swear, Jungkook finds the most illegal things to do sometimes.”
He could say that again. “Tell me about it...” You scoffed a little.
“Yeah, but that’s Jungkook.” He was right, that was just Jungkook and as long as he doesn’t get caught he was still gonna do it. 
You glanced at him, seeing him stare up at the sky with wonder-filled eyes. “Are you guys close?”
“Yep, we’re practically brothers. I’ve known him since he was just a little kid, we go wayyyy back.” He drew out that last part to emphasize their relationship, they really were very close.
“That’s nice,” You floated around a bit, “I’m curious...does he ever mention me?”
“He has a few times, he said you were the one who did most of that one project that was a majority of his grade.” He laughed, remembering the unfortunate situation. “You really saved him that time.”
“Yeah, that was me.” You sighed in relief—you knew he was bluffing when he said he’d tell Jimin about your little crush. “I should’ve asked the teacher for a different partner.” You shook your head, remembering the mess he put you through.
“I would’ve, I love him but he can be such a troublemaker sometimes. For someone who gets good grades, he’s not that good at managing his priorities or owning up to his responsibilities.”
“Yeah? So I’m not the only one who sees that.” 
“Nope...” By now you two were standing against to edge, the smell of chlorine and grass was making you a little dazed. The silence was nice, being this close to him was nice and for a minute your mind was consumed by a series of things that could happen but you ignored those thoughts—but unbeknownst to you, he didn’t.
“You have the cutest eyes.” He complimented, touching your cheek in fondness—could he be any more charming? You shied away and you honestly shouldn’t have been so flattered but you couldn’t help it
“T-thank you...” You could feel a heat, wash over you and it wasn’t from the summer temperature outside, just a hand on your cheek had you looking at him in wonder. “You have cute eyes too.” You said that sort of awkwardly and he just smiled, finding your surprise and innocent response adorable.
“You think so? Well, since we have the love for each other's eyes in common let’s play 10—things we like about each other? That sounds fun.” Now he turned on his playful tone, as he swam on his back. “You go first.” He urged you to go.
“Uh- Okay...” You swallowed, suddenly all the compliments you’ve wanted to give Jimin left your mind and you didn’t know what to say. “I like your smile, it’s a really warm smile...” You couldn’t keep from blushing at saying that, it made you giddy for some reason.
He smirked. “I really like the way you laugh, it’s cute...”
You giggled and it only made him appreciate that quality more. “Thanks...I like the way you talk...” You were sure your face was about to explode, you were revealing things that you liked about him and vice versa—never in a million years did you think this would ever happen. You swam around, water splashing on your face when you took one too many steps before almost slipping into the deep end. 
“The way I talk?...” He swam over to you and you nervously grinned at the way he stalked towards you. “You like my voice? What about it?” He teased playfully—the rumors of him being needy were true, it was cute how he fished for praise but gave praise in the same manner.
“Y-yeah, um...I don’t know if anyone has ever told you that but it’s really charming...” 
“My turn,” He said softly. “I think your lips,” He paused, purposely trying to leave you in suspense before his gaze softened. “are really pretty...” He was one to talk, to you, his lips were absolutely gorgeous and you’ve always wanted to tell him that—you hoped your eyes said it for you now.
You fluttered your lashes at the compliment and you had to determine whether you heard him correctly—he likes my lips? 
“Really?...” You weren’t even sure why you said that but it seemed to satisfy him as he nodded.
“Mhm.” He hummed in response and you lowered yourself off of the latter so that you would be directly in front of him, kicking your legs a bit to stay afloat. 
“Jimin...” You bit your bottom lip bringing his attention down to your pinkish flesh. You felt a hand on your thigh and it traveled up to your waist, the water started to feel cooler and you shivered and his hand was like a mobile heater. Your mind was going a mile a minute, Jimin was holding your waist, the water turning warm and engulfing you both like blankets—your heart was about to burst out of your chest, was he trying to kill you?
“Hm...” He touched them with his free hand and he smiled when you parted your lips. “Oh, are you trying to bite me?” He cooed, tapping your cheek when you made a biting action just to play around. “Let’s not bite, why don’t we kiss instead?...hm?” He held the side of your jaw and gently pressed his lip against yours—you just about dropped dead...
“Ah-” You pulled back in surprise. “Jimin.”
“Oh, do you not want to?” He mumbled, feeling a little flustered that you pulled away like that. “I’m sorry, I thought-”
 “I do, I’m sorry you just surprised me.” You laughed nervously, holding your arms against your chest and he smiled in relief. “I'm sorry if I ruined the moment, I do want to kiss you...” You looked at his chest then up to his face.
“No, no, don’t be sorry, you didn’t ruin anything.” He dipped back down to give you a light peck before going straight for the kill—long gone was your anticipation of a peck. And so there you are, kissing your lifelong crush in a pool at a campground at the end of summer. His soft, plump, honey-like lips emitted a silent cry of euphoria from you. He could tell you didn’t know what to do with your hands, you held them against yourself as if you were afraid to touch him, it was cute how awkward it looked.
He brought his mouth to your jaw, leaving damp warm trails in his wake, he couldn’t stop smiling. 
“Yeah, I think you left them on the benches.” 
Jin spoke to someone and both you and Jimin looked back, hoping whoever it was wasn’t coming close. To your dismay, the person didn’t state their identity but you were pretty sure it was Tae based on the sing-song hums he made.
“I think Tae is coming...” You mumbled, looking back in worry—you didn’t want anyone to see you and Jimin understood.
Noticing that your cheeks heated at the slowly approaching situation that you wanted to avoid. Like the considerate person he is, he encouraged you to sink lower into the water so that your nose was still above the water. “Take a deep breath.” He instructed. As soon as you heaved your chest up he pushed you under. 
The peaceful echoing sound of water as you were immersed in it had taken you to another planet. You opened your eyes wide and could see him but he was kind of blurry so you just shut your eyes. In order to keep oxygen in your lungs, all you did was pinch your nose closed, there wasn’t much movement. The off-white lights somewhat illuminating the body of water making it resemble an ocean or a lake.
“Jimin, have you seen my slides? I can’t find them.” He pouted, looking at Jimin over the fence that separated the pool from the campground living area.
“Yeah, they’re in the laundry closet.” Jimin continued to act casual even though he felt you squeezing his wrist, signaling that you wanted to come up for air. 
“Okay, I’ll check there thanks.” With that, he marched back inside, and Jimin waited for the cabin door to close.
When it finally did he pulled you up and you gasped for air. “Ah- ah, ah-” You panted heavily, trying to form a sentence. But before you could that, in the midst of you wiping your eyes, Jimin started kissing your neck.
“Sorry about that, but Tae is a blabbermouth, he would tell the whole world if he could,” The more his face nuzzled against you, the more shallow your breaths became. “Now where were we?” He crashed his mouth against your own, making your teeth come close to bumping. He was almost like you imagined, a touch of control all while still being fluffy and sweet. It was a mixture of extremely fast yet painfully slow, you could barely think straight. The sounds leaving his mouth were very audible and that seemed to be the only sound you heard aside from the splashing water around you. A small sound from you had him all over you, he held you like there was no tomorrow kiss you like tomorrow wouldn’t come if he didn’t.
His hands were not shy about joining in on the fun and it was all blurry from there.
It was late, he was bored and you wouldn’t answer his texts. Jimin went out for a swim and he declined the invitation to join him but now he’s just looking for some trouble to get in to, or just something to do. So, he pulled up his sweatpants and pulled down his long-sleeved white sure and rolled out of bed.
He slid on some black slides and sluggishly walked himself outside. It was nice outside, it was the kind of night that he’d want to go out for a nice long drive in the long roads in the semi-country. He walked out on to the porch, the night's wind blowing lightly against his face. He had thoughts about a variety of things, going home soon, starting up school again. There was a lot he hadn’t decided, where he was gonna go, did he even want to go back? Not that his parents would give him a choice. But the sudden flood of decisions and responsibilities gave him a headache, how was he supposed to deal with this? He guessed he’d approach it like he did everything else in life, in a nonchalant manner, it always seemed to work for him. 
The soft sound of splashing water caught his attention, he assumed Jimin must be playing around. He walked over to the gate and peeked at the pool, he was about to call Jimin but then he saw it. 
He was playing around for sure.
There you were, kissing each other and Jimin was just relishing in it. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and he had you propped against the edge of the pool—disgusting. He was no saint but right now he couldn’t help but feel nothing but confusion and disgust for the man he called his brother. The two of you were taking your sweet time and prolonging the kiss by relentlessly going back for more. Jimin was the more ambitious one, he reeked of sensuality and Jungkook was witnessing it in its full effect. His chest began to tighten, he furrowed his brows at the very sight of a man touching you that wasn’t him. He’s never actually seen you with another guy before, except for once when you were in elementary school, but he put an end to that real quick.
He was quiet so no one would notice him but you two were too distracted to notice him anyway. He watched you, doing things with Jimin that he personally never thought would happen. Jungkook just watched, waiting for you to look his way but you never did. One measly sound escaped your lips and Jungkook was livid. He was getting so worked up for no reason, he wanted to run over to you, drag you out of that pool and- Let’s just say, show you your place. As soon as he can get you alone your ass is gonna get it. When Jimin pulled your head back by your hair and started peppering kisses up your jaw. Jungkook’s is eyes went wide and his mouth went agape—He scowled. “I can’t watch this shit.” He stormed off to the cabin and you heard the loud slam of the door, causing you to flinch.
“J-Jimin...” You mumbled, your breath slightly constricted from the position he had you in. He guided your mouth back to his lips and pecked quickly before humming in a questioning tone—his flirtatious tendencies had you shivering at the chilling effect he gave.
“I was supposed to c-call my mom 20 minutes ago...” You smiled nervously and he reluctantly let you go. 
“Okay, it’s getting late so I should go shower anyway.” He and you both got out of the water at the same time, leaving wet trails as you walked towards the pool chairs. You reached for your phone and saw it was close to 11 o’clock, your mom was probably asleep by now, but then maybe not. You grabbed your towel, drying yourself off as best as you could, he handsomely did so himself. He shook his hair a bit and wiped off his face.
“So I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” You stated, trying to dismiss yourself without being awkward. “Goodnight.” 
“Definitely, goodnight.” He winked, leaving you high and on cloud nine—your biggest fantasy was just fulfilled.
Now what?
Jungkook hissed. He laid back in his bed, thinking about the things you said and did, he couldn’t believe he was getting worked up about this. There were a million things he could be getting mad about and he wasn’t really mad—just undecided. Suddenly his body temperature rose to an alarming rate, he didn’t know whether to march back out there, grab you out of the pool and take you right there or burn down a house, with you in it.
He shouldn’t care, at all, he never had before. You two weren’t really even friends, well you were, but you weren’t that friendly—some would say otherwise if they saw what you two were sneaking around to do. He was showing you mercy actually, most girls would’ve been doing far more than kissing and heavy petting. Why hadn’t he been able to get you in bed? And how come that didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would?
It pissed him off to think that Jimin would probably have no problem getting you in bed—you’d probably be all over him in a millisecond. That really shouldn’t matter, yet, he felt that buzzing in his chest of betrayal. He picked up his cellphone in a fit of revenge, he had to say something to you, just out of childish revenge.
[12:58] Jungkook: fuck you
Everyone headed to the clubhouse for breakfast and you stared at the text message on your phone from Jungkook. What is wrong with this boy? You rolled your eyes, tucking your phone into your pocket. Ever since last night, you were confused onto why he would send such a message. Jungkook didn’t come to breakfast, you assumed he stayed in for cereal. And you stayed to do your laundry. 
The little laundry mat down in the recreation was vacant, you assumed no one was intending on washing but you. So, you walked down there with a little white basket of your clothes and your own laundry detergent. When you got there you saw Jungkook standing in front of the dryer. Ehh...I’ll just turn around- No. He can’t scare me away.
You opened the door and he didn’t even look at you.
“Good morning.” You decided you’d greet him first, seeing if he’d respond. He looked at you, giving you a dirty look. “Why are you so rude, it’s common courtesy to say good morning back to someone...” You mumbled as you dumped your clothes in the washing machine with fabric softener and detergent. Still the silent treatment, you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long so you just waited.
“Why did you kiss me?” He said suddenly, walking to lean his back against the dryer. “The other night, you kissed me even when I was just kidding around with you to do it but you did it.” He frowned. 
“Yeah, I did...why does that matter?”
“I wanna know why you fucking did it.”
“For the same reason you do it, I don’t know. But that’s beside the real issue here, what was with the text message last night? Huh?”
“Think about it.” He quipped.
“Think about it? I’m not doing this Jungkook..” You just shook your head and said nothing. The two of you stood there and you could’ve sworn, for a split second, he looked hurt. Without a word, you left your clothes to wash and went to the cabin for a snack.
“Hey y/n!” You looked up and saw Jimin getting in his car. “I’m going to the convenience store, wanna come?” 
“Sure.” You smiled, walking towards the passenger's seat of the car and sliding in. When you sat down he flashed you a sweet smile, reminding you of everything you two did last night, you bashfully looked away. “You can pull off Jimin...” 
“I just wanna make sure you were okay with, y’know...” He mumbled, referring to last night. “You seemed kind of shocked, it made me wonder if you enjoyed it or not...” His expression was almost childish. It was the way he pouted and looked at you with puppy dog eyes that forced a response out of you.
“No, I enjoyed it! I mean, yeah I was shocked but in a good way...If I’m being honest, I’ve always kind of liked you...” The blush on your cheeks was evident and bright, Jimin was blushing too. “I’m happy we could do that...”
“I like you too, it just seems like you’re more to yourself than anything.”
“Yeah, relationships are kind of...-”
“Scary?” Your mouth went agape as he spoke what you were thinking. “Yeah, I agree. So, why don’t we just leave it at that? I like you, you like me, nothing complicated or scary about that.” Jimin was proposing that you two get to know each other, rather than fabricating a relationship just because of a mutual attraction—that’s fair enough.
“Okay.” You sat back, assured that you didn’t have to try to make something work and then you relized—your clothes are in danger. “My laundry!” You left it unattended with Jungkook.
He laughed a little. “Your laundry?-”
“Sorry, I’ll go with you another time, I left my laundry in the washing machine.” You hopped out of the car and began skipping towards the laundry mat, you prayed that he hadn’t done something to your clothes. When you made it to the laundry mat he was folding his clothes, seemingly not suspicious. You saw that the timer on the washing machine had gone off so you cautiously took your clothes out and threw them in the dryer.
“Damn it, I’m just gonna say it, I saw you last night.” He dropped the shirt he was folding and stared at you, finally getting what he really wanted to say off of his chest. “In the pool.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” You feigned ignorance, hoping he wouldn’t start acting crazy.
“Don’t play dumb with me, y/n. I saw you with my own eyes in the pool with him, doing God knows what. Hell, I didn’t know you were such an easy little whore.” He blurted out suddenly, contorting his face into a scarily focused expression.
“Excuse me? Back off Jungkook, what happened last night is none of your business.” He breathed in, getting ready to slap that cocky look off of his face. “Who do you think you are? Bitching over something that has nothing to do with you!” The conversation easily turned into a loud argument.
“Yes, the hell it does. You don’t think I have a right to confront you for fucking around with my friend, behind my back. Y’know, I never liked you, you’re so fucking gullible and now I know you’re a backstabbing slut.” He just wanted to say anything that potentially hurt you, so, he began doing some damage. “You think Jimin likes you? Are you really that stupid? That you’d think he’d give a shit about you? You’re really as simple-minded as you look...He only gives you the time of day for your looks, but deep down, your just another body to him, you’re nothing special.”
“Shut up Jungkook.” You frowned but he only cornered you against the wall, intimidating you further.
“Make me.” He grabbed your shoulders and you went silently out of shock. “Seriously, Make me Y/n.” He brought his face near you. “What’d you gonna do? You couldn’t do anything then and you can’t do anything now, can you?”
“Wha- What are you talking about?” You stammered.
“Junior year, the banquet, that girl beat the shit out of you for talking to her boyfriend...You sat there and let her beat you up in front of everyone until her parents came to get her off of you. You didn’t even hit her back, not once, ever since that day I wondered, ‘does she have a screw loose or something?’ she’s so weak and fucking pathetic. And then, you started to get smart, and that’s when you thought you were better than everyone else; straight A’s, internships, every teacher's favorite little pet. You know what? You’re a spoiled brat who thinks she can get whatever she wants, do you think you can have everything y/n? Because you can’t, you’re far from perfect.” He let go of your shoulders and scoffed, the anger and frustration he had for you showing vividly. You swallowed at his words, not wishing to speak until he was finished with his juvenile tactics.
“And, you know what else? You’ll always be that baby girl in the corner, that’s just not like the rest of us...you’re like—the ugly duck, per se.” He chortled, finding the way you chewed on your lips too satisfying of a victory, he won this argument—hands down. “So sad, but true.”
As if all the oxygen had been taken from your lungs, you stood there red-faced and boiling in anger. You couldn’t escape the tears that insisted on streaming down your face before you wiped your cheek hurriedly. 
“This is why I hate you.” You spoke in a rigid tone. “I never should’ve let this mess go on. We hate each other and we always will.” You bent down in front of the dryer and shoveled your clothes into your little white basket, you couldn’t be around him anymore. “You’re a jerk Jungkook...”
He grabbed your upper arm to try and stop you from leaving. “Y/n, stop, all I’m saying is-” 
“Let go.” You pulled your arm away and kicked his calf, He choked back the pain. You glared at him intently as he lifted his hands in somewhat of a surrender or a sign of standing down. The air in the room was thick, and it wasn’t from the heat of the dryer, you were seriously upset and his stomach churned at the realization that he took it too far
“This is how it’s gonna be?” He countered, watching you walk out the door with your basket, not even trying to look back.
“You’re just gonna walk away!?” He yelled out at you.
“Leave me alone!” You just kept walking to the cabin, ignoring the scene he was making as you left him where he was. You angrily walked into the cabin, sat your clothes on the bed and folded them in the most violently way you could imagine.
“Hey,” Jennie walked in, “are you in a fight with your clothes or something?”
You were torn from your thoughts of killing Jungkook and you paused, realizing you were making quite a scene. You sighed, sitting your swimsuit on top of your shorts. “No.” You continued to fold but much slower.
“What's wrong? And don’t say nothing because it’s obvious that somethings up.” He put your basket on the floor and sat beside you.
“Jungkook and I got into a fight.” 
“Oh, I heard you guys...What were you fighting about?” She asked hesitantly.
“Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.” You got up and went to the closet to pull out your suitcase and open it up on the floor. You took your folded clothes and sat them in the suitcase, Jennie awkwardly watched you do so. “Look, Jennie, I don’t want to ruin the rest of the trip so could you just give me some space for a little bit? I’m sorry I just need to breathe.” Your tone was a lot kinder and you didn’t want to be curt with her, but you were in no mood for this.
“I understand,” She got up, “but you know I’m here if you want to talk about it.” With that, she left you in the cabin alone. It was nice to know you had a friend to confide in but it was no use, she never knew about that incident with that girl. The only people from your school were you, Jungkook that girl and her boyfriend—you hoped she’d never find out, it was humiliating and Jungkook knew it. You had to be strong about though, you couldn’t let that one incident control you, even if it did feel like the end of the world...
You remembered it vaguely; over the past few years, you’ve tried your best to forget the terrifying event. All you knew was that this boy named Mino was in your chess club, somehow the two of you began talking at the party and she didn’t like it one bit. She ran up to you and pushed her boyfriend out of the way and started picking a fight. She went on about how, quote ‘pitiful and desperate’ you were, and how I needed to get out of her face. As she walked away you couldn’t help but mumbled a sly comment and she went off, she jumped on you in the middle of the formal event and started beating you up. You’ll never forget the moment her parents pulled her off of you and you sat on the ground in tears and suddenly, you were handed an ivory handkerchief. When you looked up to see who gave it to you it was Jungkook, he gave it to you and quickly got lost in the crowd. That was the only day you ever remember seeing good in him and you carried that handkerchief the rest of the night as your friends made sure to protect for the rest of the night, at least for little time that you spent there after the fight.
“You can stop packing your bags Y/n.” Beah walked in, soaking wet from head to toe. “There’s a bad storm coming in.” She ran to get her clothes and to change in the bathroom.
“Isn’t that just my luck?” You threw yourself back on the bed and sighed, there was no leaving the campground anytime soon. To be honest, you didn’t even notice the drizzling rain when you rain out of the laundry mat; you just wanted to get away from him. 
It was odd, how could someone who had no romantic interest in you get upset over a harmless kiss between friends? Maybe it wasn’t so harmless, maybe he felt like it was an insult to him; you couldn’t imagine why though. There was obvious tension between you two, maybe because it was an attraction that neither of you knew you had for each other. You couldn’t understand it, you weren’t a bad person, you weren’t perfect but you weren’t bad. Jungkook was a supposed bad boy, you knew it was probably;y just a front but everyone was fooled, even you at times. It was like no one could touch him, he had an impenetrable layer and you just wanted to break it.
You opened the front door and everyone was scurrying to come back in, but the guys weren’t going to their cabins, they came to yours.
“Who knew it was gonna rain?!” Naeun ran past you and soon so did everyone else. Jennie walked in with Nayeon, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook; Jimin walked in last.
“I ordered pizza and we can watch movies.” Jennie went behind the changing paper to change out of her wet clothes, the boys all went to the back rooms to change too, except Jungkook, he went to sit on the couch and you sat in the kitchen. You didn’t mutter a word to him and he didn’t say a thing to you either.
“Hey, can some put this sunburn lotion on my back?” Jimin walked out of the second bathroom.
“Sure, I’ll do it.” You beckoned him to follow you to the bunk beds you slept at. His hair was wet and you smiled at how flushed his cheeks were from running in here.
“Y/n?” You squeezed the lotion into your hands and sat behind Jimin.
“Yes?”
“I heard you and Jungkook got into a pretty heated fight...” Jungkook must’ve been talking with Taehyung or something, or you two were so loud that everyone on the campgrounds knew.
“Um,” You rubbed his back gently, “yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it.” You handed him the lotion and he gave you a knowing look, just sitting on the bed and looking at you. 
“What?”
“Nothing, I just thought you’d like to talk about it to get it off your chest-”
“Jimin, Jungkook is a jerk and I don’t want to say anything more than that.” You crossed your arms, he put his shirt on completely and pushed back his hair, you felt bad for cutting him off like that. “Sorry, he’s just so mean sometimes...”
“Do you want me to talk to him-”
“No! No...” Before you knew it, Jimin’s hand had gone to the back of your neck, pulling your mouth towards him. He tilted his head and parted his lips, the way he kissed you was very different from Jungkook. If his Spotify playlist could be embodied into a kiss, it would be his kisses. It was sensual, eager, heart racing and full of passion. Jimin was very vocal, he groaned and moaned, and you were surprised, to say the least. You found yourself emitting little whines that you were embarrassed were your own, he had such an effect on you that you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed, is this what it’s supposed to feel like?...
“You’re shaking...” He commented, and you didn’t even notice, you mumbled a little apology and his hand went to your lower back, sending a jolt to your chest. “Calm down, don’t be nervous just relax...” He pulled away, his hands massaging you lightly. “Someones gonna notice that we’re gone, huh?”
“Y-yeah, probably...” You wiped your mouth and got out of his hold, trying to pry his persistent hands off of your waist but he managed to pull you down to the bed and tickle you. “J-Jimin! Stop!” You giggled and tensed up, he tickled your stomach and laughed as your face scrunched up. “J-Jimin-”
“Okay, okay.” He smiled, letting you catch your breath. He got up and you decided you’d trail behind him into the living room. The pizza was being brought in and they were like vultures. 
“We have four boxes, just put some in the living room.” Taehyung grabbed one of the boxes and took it with him but your eyes were on Jungkook, he was eerily quiet. “Jungkook, can you get us some cola?” Tae asked him and Jungkook nodded, getting up and going to the refrigerator. The way his sweats rested at the bottom of his perfect waist made you mad for some reason. When he grabbed a few cans of Coca-Cola, he cut his gaze to you for a split second.
“We’re not watching the Exorcist, I don’t find possessed people entertaining.” Naeun argued with her little sister who insisted on a horror movie.
“You’re just scared!”
“I’ll pick the movie.” Jin intervened. He decided to pick Train to Busan and everyone was pretty satisfied by that. And so the night went on, some of you guys were on the couch, the floor and on the bean bags. You were sitting next to Beah and Jennie, and you managed to get Jungkook off of your mind for the time being but it was contrary to him.
He couldn’t get the fight out of his head. 
All the things he said, he didn’t really mean all of that. He had never brought up what happened that day and neither have you, it was something that just happened and you put it in the past. But ever since that day, the day he gave you his handkerchief was the day he started to look at you more. Just recently did he start thinking you were gorgeous, or maybe you’ve always been attractive and he just never acknowledged it. Either way, he started something with you that he didn’t think would get him in any trouble. He could sneak around, steal kisses when no one was looking and touch you when everyone was around; it was the possibility of getting caught excited him. And when he saw you with Jimin he felt betrayed like he was being cheated on—no one had ever done something like that to him. He so used to getting what he wants and girls wanting him that he couldn’t fathom someone wanting any more than him.
“Scoot over.” Suddenly you got up to sit on the couch, Jimin had pulled you to sit beside him and Jungkook—this was a conveniently long couch. You sat closer to Jimin with a blanket over your laps and you smiled, you actually looked happy—it was disgusting. She’s messing with me, he thought. You were wearing shorts and a sweater, that outfit shouldn’t have Intrigued him like it did, there was something about that ensemble that made his eyes linger too long.
“Jungkook, you can use some cover too.” Jimin offered from beside you, it was like he was oblivious to the unstated tension between you and Jungkook. 
“Thanks...” Jungkook mumbled.
If he were to be completely honest, he regretted everything he said. For the first time in his life, he was sickened with regret. Seeing you next up to Jimin only made it worse, he didn’t want to remember what he saw last night. When he looked over at you, your eyes were glued to the tv, you weren’t even trying to look at him and that was starting to piss him off. He knew you were mad but he hated the silent treatment. He wasn’t about to be ignored.
You sat comfortably, well as comfortable as you could be between these two guys. You tensed, you felt a hand crawl onto your thigh and you shuddered. Jungkook. I can’t punch him, I can’t punch him, that’s what you had to tell yourself, you had to ignore him, then he’ll let up. 
“Ah.” You gasped. He was so bold as to squeeze your thigh, making you jump just in time with the sudden zombie on tv. Jungkook smirked, I’m gonna kill him...
“You okay?” Jimin said softly and you nodded.
“Y-yeah, it just startled me.” Jimin nodded. He found your thigh and rested his hand on it, knowing it’d make you flustered. But he didn’t know that you were far more than flustered. Jimin caught eye contact with you and grinned before laying his head on your shoulder like a cute little puppy.
So, there you sat, two hands on you that knew nothing of each other. One was gentle, caressing your bare thigh and sending butterflies to your stomach wholeness the other one sent a bolt of electricity up your spine, leaving you breathless and pissed.
They both flinched for a second and your eyes went wide, both of them smirked, did their hands just touch!?!?!?!?
they thought they were touching your hand...
This is going to drive you crazy.
437 notes · View notes
luciddeparture · 3 years
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Is sleep for the weak?
If you had spoken to me a few years ago about sleep, I probably would have told you that sleep was for the weak. In reality that was just an excuse. I couldn’t sleep and even if I wanted to I couldn’t. When I did it would often lead to me waking up from sleep paralysis. Throughout high school my average night of sleep would last around 5-6 hours. That’s when I could sleep. When I couldn’t, it would be far worse, leading to me having pretty severe concentration issues and regular naps. To maintain energy levels at school and work I pursued a healthy diet of constant caffeine followed by an excessive amount of sugar.  When the weekends came around, I would regularly go out till ungodly hours of the morning, often leaving myself with the equivalent of jet lag. I used to think it strange that people went to sleep before 12am as I felt like this was when my own brain finally started to wake up. 
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Flash forward to where we are now and sleep is something which I prioritise. I aim to have no less than eight hours a night (albeit with a few exceptions). Such a dramatic shift in my priorities came in part to being sick of constantly feeling like I didn’t have enough energy to do the things I love e.g. to write. Being constantly lethargic comes at a cost. I know that most people don’t have these sorts of problems with sleep, which is fantastic for you! Although infuriating at the time, having these issues caused me to try and work out some solutions to help improve my sleep. I think that some of the points which I came across may help the everyday reader. It is only now that I can appreciate in hindsight that neglecting sleep killed my creativity and learning ability. 
Whilst researching my own sleep, I came across a book called Why We Sleep written by Matthew Walker. A book which Bill Gates has recommended stating - “It took me a little longer than usual to finish Why We Sleep—ironically, because I kept following Walker’s advice to put down the book I was reading a bit earlier than I was used to, so I could get a better night’s sleep.”
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Matthew Walker is an English scientist and professor of neuroscience and psychology at the University of California. He is one of the most high-profile public intellectuals focused on the subject of sleep. Who better to accept advice on sleep from than him?
We still know surprisingly little about why we sleep. Walker has been studying for 20 something years, publishing over 100 scientific studies. He is a New York Times best selling author. He states that 1 in 3 people are not getting enough sleep as the average adult requires 7-9 hours a day.
This is because when we sleep there are two different sorts of sleep which we switch between over the course of the night. Too little of either can negatively impact us. The two sorts of sleep are NREM (Non Rapid Eye Movement) sleep and REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep. 
In NREM sleep, our respiration and heart rate slows down, our body temperature drops and our brain waves slow down - for reasons that we don’t yet know. The purpose of NREM Sleep appears to be to consolidate information learnt, and transfer it throughout the brain into long term storage. This captures recent memories making you far less likely to forget them. It also improves our immune system. In later stages of NREM sleep there is a cacophony of waves before you switch into REM sleep. 
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In REM sleep brain waves are much more rapid than NREM sleep. Parts of your brain in REM sleep are actually up to 30% more active than when you are awake! It appears that REM sleep acts as a free overnight therapy session for our brains in the form of dreams. It helps us processes the information taken in throughout the day by comparing, testing and connecting recent memories. 
Now that you know a bit about sleep, I though for the rest of this article I could share with you the points which I found to be most interesting and useful with the aim of boosting your knowledge and sharing what has worked for myself - and what I still find to be difficult. 
The points are as follows: 
Regular bed time and wake up time: Having a regular bedtime, ideally with a bedtime routine e.g. read, drink tea, meditate, helps you be able to fall asleep quickly when it is finally bedtime. Waking up at the same time everyday helps to not disturb the cycles, as your brain switches between REM and NREM sleep. Your brain also creates melatonin - the chemical which helps you sleep on a 24 hour schedule, by regulating what times you do certain tasks.
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No coffee: As we all know caffeine keeps you awake. What most of us don’t know is that caffeine has a half life which can last five to seven hours! This means if you have your cup of coffee around 7:30pm, by 1:30am you may still have 50% of the caffeine in your system preventing proper sleep. 
Reduce blue light before sleep: No phones. No screens. Ironically you might be reading this article on your mobile phone. The problem with having such addictive little machines at our fingertips is often we will end up scrolling, reading or watching before sleep. It is important for us all to prioritise reducing blue light for an hour prior to getting into bed. 
Chill: When your body temperature drops, you have a better sleep. An easy way to do this is by having a warm shower before sleep. Once you get out of the shower your body temperature drops, leading to… you guessed it: better sleep!
Nap time: Nappers out there, you are in luck! Having a short 20 minute nap some time before 3pm, can actually boost your creativity. Studies have been done in places like Italy where they regularly have “Siesta’s” - a daytime nap after lunch. 
A lethal experiment: 1.6 billion people across 70 countries twice a year participate in a simple test to see what the devastating effects can be when losing only an hour of sleep. Have you worked out what it is? Daylight Savings. When we lose an hour, there is a 24% increase in heart attacks. When we gain an hour we see a 21% reduction in heart attacks. We also see a reduction in car accidents and suicide. That’s only one hour less sleep! 
Alcohol: Many individuals believe that alcohol can be used as a night cap. Ironically like most sleeping pills, alcohol actually sedates the prefrontal cortex. Sedation is not sleep and prevents REM sleep. Which as we have previously discussed is crucial to process what we have learnt throughout the day. 
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But what about Saturday night drinks? Here I have included a direct story from the book. 
“Framed practically, let’s say that you are a student cramming for an exam on Monday. Diligently, you study all of the previous Wednesday. Your friends beckon you to come out that night for drinks, but you know how important sleep is, so you decline. On Thursday, friends again ask you to grab a few drinks in the evening, but to be safe, you turn them down and sleep soundly a second night. Finally, Friday rolls around—now three nights after your learning session—and everyone is heading out for a party and drinks. Surely, after being so dedicated to slumber across the first two nights after learning, you can now cut loose, knowing those memories have been safely secured and fully processed within your memory banks. Sadly, not so. Even now, alcohol consumption will wash away much of that which you learned and can abstract by blocking your REM sleep.
How long is it before those new memories are finally safe? We actually do not yet know, though we have studies under way that span many weeks. What we do know is that sleep has not finished tending to those newly planted memories by night 3. ”
- Excerpt From: Matthew Walker. “Why We Sleep: Unlocking the Power of Sleep and Dreams.”
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Further Reading 
If you liked this article I recommend reading the entire book, as it’s full of fantastic snippets of information. Changing my sleep has had such a huge impact on my memory, concentration and creativity and I truly hope that reading this encourages you to continue to prioritise it. 
If you want to read the book, you can access it here: 
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2XSzFZ5
Audible: https://adbl.co/3ioUa9j
Or you can even undertake Matthew Walkers new Masterclass “The Science of Better Sleep”: https://bit.ly/3oZ9Q5t
Unfortunately I’m not sponsored by any of these links, I’m just trying to help! 
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