#be up online before the days end can you even blame me to be honest. and the journey is longer now too..
Text
the magnanimous way i describe my plan to deign to attend the first week of my nine am lecture this monday before i skip all subsequent weeks to watch the lectures online instead. as if it were an act of charity as if im about to be canonized as if im doing my professors a favour. yes i could do with facing some consequences i fear
#the trouble is that as lazy as i get it never ever comes back to bite me in the arse and i sort of wish it would. so i could get myself#together. anyway ill go to my nine am the first week to get the lay of the land but after that. well when i know the recording will#be up online before the days end can you even blame me to be honest. and the journey is longer now too..#(ridi's) bigmouth strikes again
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi there darling, saw your requests open, so I decided to slide in like the snail i am
Aventurine x reader arguments ansgt to fluff
BUT! if you're not comfortable with that, you can also write
aventurine X reader whos love language is also gift giving (like his) and reader likes to receive gifts too but feels guilty when aventurine spends too much money on them
Risking too much (ft. Aventurine)
Pairing: Aventurine x reader
Tags: angst to comfort, established relationships, slightly dark themes
Warnings: spoilers for 2.1 (mentions of Aventurine's real name), non-native english writer, might be OOC
A/N: Thank you for your request! ♡ It took some time to write, I was insanely busy the last few days, sorry qwq Don't know if this is what you wanted, but I've tried my best
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-
Aventurine is constantly putting everything on the line, even himself.
Needless to say, the constant risk intertwined with his life was making you terribly anxious every day. You knew that he was scared for his life, too, waiting for the fortune to leave him at any moment.
One of his recent missions was supposed to take no more than a day. "It should be a piece of cake", he said. But in the evening you were still alone, staring at the phone screen with a dozen unanswered messages. Aventurine had been online that morning, not so long after he left, but you hadn't heard from him since.
Just a horrifying emptiness.
Three long days passed before he showed up on the doorstep of your shared home, absolutely exhausted. Needless to say, you hadn't eaten or slept much the whole time, checking your private messages every now and then.
"Hey, love…" he was trying to hide his own storm of different emotions behind his usual smile. "I'm sorry, I…"
But you didn't let him finish.
"You disappeared for three days! Three!" there was so much pain and despair in your voice that every word felt like a stab to his heart. "I thought you were dead!"
To be honest, he thought he was going to die too. Maybe he lied a little about the complexity of the mission so as not make you worried, hoping that he'd get lucky and everything will end much quicker.
"Not everything went according to plan," he was ashamed to hide anything from you, even the gruesome details. "There were… Problems with some hostile people who didn't want to negotiate with IPC representatives."
"Like?.." you asked, preparing for the worst.
"Like... I was captured and they really wanted to get rid of me. But… They didn't succeed. Everything's okay now, right? I'm here. And I'm alive," Aventurine tried to smooth things over, but judging by the way tears started rolling down your cheeks, he didn't succeed either.
"Everything's okay, you say? After you nearly died?!"
His facade immediately dropped. Aventurine pressed his lips tightly together, realizing how much stress was weighting not only on him, but on you too every time. And he couldn't blame you for reacting so emotionally.
If you suddenly disappeared from his life without a word, he'd go insane.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want an apology!" you sobbed. "I want to know that my beloved is alive and safe, that I won't have his corpse brought home to me! I'm tired of not knowing where you are or if you're okay."
Aventurine knew you had every right to be angry, to scream and cry. He just held you in a tight embrace, silently listening as you expressed everything that had built up inside you over the past three days, still repeating how sorry he was for leaving you worried.
Slowly but surely, your anger subsided, leaving only a heavy feeling somewhere in your chest. You were still crying, hiding your face in his chest. But a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders anyway.
"Please, Kakavasha," you felt him flinch at the mention of his name. "Please be careful. I don't know how I will survive without you if something happens. I've almost gone crazy these days, not knowing what to expect."
Aventurine could understand your feelings. The whole time he'd been held hostage, his thoughts were all about you, about how worried you must be, waiting for him to return.
"I won't leave you alone, no matter what, I swear," Aventurine whispered back. "I was blessed to meet you. No way I'd do anything to lose you."
You were still holding him tightly in your arms, trying to calm your racing heart. Oh, Aeons, there was no way you were going to let him get out of your embrace anytime soon.
"I'll take a few days off... A week. We can spend all this time together, alright?" he continued, gently rubbing your back. "Just you and me, doing whatever you like."
As you slightly nodded, he let out a soft sigh. How lucky he was for having you, the only person alive who really cared about him no matter what. And how ungrateful he was for keeping you worried all the time.
"Good. I've been missing you so much."
© do not repost, translate or modify without permission
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you#aventurine x you
221 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you think there are other co conspirators in the vendettas against you from people in your past like Josh, Opal, Tara, Blake, Faust etc where it's people that still act alongside people like Zena & Poppy? I feel like there are just so many people that contest against you that it can't just be coordinated smear campaigns.
I don't think so. Josh and Opal have since left me alone (, I haven't heard from Blake or Faust Harag in ten years so I have no reason to believe that they're even around at all, and Alison (Tara's real name) is in federal prison and the rest of them are convinced I made her up.
The only correlation is that I've had shitty friends in the past and shitty friends in the present. Brittany is the only one who has been on this dedicated vendetta.
TGT is just a content mill mining for clout and attention by manufacturing social outrage because that's how you get an audience of terminally online and unquestioning teenagers in 2023.
The thing is, and this is the really depressing part, is that I'm not unique. Every trans woman content creator who is notable enough to get attention has this kind of parasocial smear campaign following them. Both from transphobes who want to kill all trans visibility, and other trans people who have arbitrarily decided they don't deserve to have a platform.
As much as Contrapoints deserved the criticism she got back in 2019, there is not a single honest person who is still on that grift. Everyone who was honest just stopped watching her content. The people who are still hounding her and archiving every single deleted tweet are very peculiar people and very dishonest people.
I know the underlying idea of your ask is "Isn't it a stretch to suggest there's some mass conspiracy?" I'm not. There isn't. It's not a conspiracy, it's ONE PERSON.
If anyone so much as expresses a minor disagreement with me, Brittany is in their replies playing her snake oil. When Harmony decided to end our friendship, Brittany was in her replies congratulating her on "detoxing." The instant she has new prey, she lunges. She spends all her time name searching me on every single social media site possible and appearing in every single person's DMs.
If you ever thought it was weird that some people can go from "I think it's unfair that you said Percy Jackson was bad" to "Lily's a secret covert white supremacist" it's usually because Brittany started feeding them crap.
I had a message from Courtney on Deviantart of all places giving me their phone number and wanting to talk things out just two days before they were on facebook calling me a pedophile. That's how quick the turnaround on this shit is.
This is WHY I'm not interested in going after people. That's why I say shit like this. Because most of the people in this harassment campaign are fucking kids being misled by one nutcase who spends all of her time obsessing over me. I've received many apologies like this from people who admit that they were groomed into this. I do my best not to have any animosity toward most of these people. It's difficult, but I certainly put in the effort.
I know at this point for most of these kids it's keep harassing or be buried in death threats. I know the situation that goes on in these people's servers. I know the kind of shit Courtney and Brittany have threatened to do to some of these actual children. This is a very abusive cult. Most of these people going after me are victims themselves.
This is why I'm very cagey about the idea of people speaking out on my behalf because you guys, and I say this with love, are really fucking dumb and go on the attack rather than the defence, and you're reinforcing the cult-like conditioning. This is the same reason why it's a bad idea to yell at a Jehova's Witness because the people brainwashing them are counting on you doing that.
Hell these guys will harass their own people and then claim it's me doing it. One of them got anonymous rape threats from Brittany which was then blamed on me.
This is a bunch of children being weaponized by a very disturbed individual. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.
I mean it when I say that if you just left me alone and stopped harassing me, that would be it. I'm not after an apology or a retraction, just leave me alone.
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Matsuno Family Diary! Part 4: Todomatsu goes to a New Year's Eve Party! Does not get Laid, has Zero Game! (Unofficial English Translation)
The following is an unofficial English translation of an official short story released online for members of the official Osomatsu-san fan club. If you want to read the original Japanese version of the story or enjoy the other things the fan club offers its members please consider joining: https://osomatsusan-fc.com/
In the room of the Matsuno family sextuplets there is a notebook hidden away behind a bookshelf. This notebook exists so that the brothers may, should they so choose, express the deep feelings and profound thoughts which weigh upon their hearts and minds so heavily that they can no longer be contained.
It seems that today someone’s hand is once again turning the pages….
January 5th, 2022, Todomatsu
5 days after New Year's Eve…
Today, I would like to write about what happened to me…
The day before New Years, I found this advertisement for a machikon* on the internet:
―――――――――――――――――――
[Mainly meant for singles in their 20’s] (Akatsuka Ward)
“Before I knew it, I had fallen in love. I understood the word "fate" for the first time...”
New Year's Eve love-hunting machikon event! Free drinks and desserts!
Only you can carve out a new life for yourself!
Let’s start a new romance! The man of your dreams is so close by!
―――――――――――――――――――
I’ve had my brothers destroy any chance I had at love before it could even start to develop. So this new year’s eve I decided to go to this event in town in secret without any of them knowing.
But I didn’t have the courage to go alone! So I called a bunch of people trying to find someone who would come with me. I ended up going with an acquaintance who works for a major company. I thought, “Totty, you don't stand a chance, do you?” Shobon...**
I don’t think any of my virgin NEET brothers know this, but it’s so hard to be popular at these kinds of events. In fact, forget about being popular, it’s hard enough just getting girls to remember who you are! After all, there are plenty of men out there. If you call them afterwards and they say "Oh...who's this guy?” then there’s no chance of starting a relationship with them! That's why you have to be memorable to the girls.
Unfortunately, I'm a normal boy that you can find anywhere. I'm just an ordinary guy. A little bit good-looking, kind of smart, a tad witty, and overall just plain ol’ Totty. I'm not highly educated, nor do I have a high income…
But you know what? The whole night ended up being such a big victory for me! ! ! I Did it! Woohoo!
Yes, I realized I am a unique character. I have a special characteristic that once you hear it, you'll never forget it.
You see, I am…a sextuplet!
There are no other sextuplets around, I’m part of the only set in town! It’s so unusual! So that’s what I first mentioned in conversations right after I introduced myself! There was no shortage of things to talk about, such as “Can I see a picture of you guys?” or “When you get injured, do the others feel it?” Is that good? No, It’s great!!!
To be honest, I used to think of my five brothers as nothing more than stains on my shirt, but from now on I'll think of them as appliqués on my shirt! Thank you!
But you know…even though I was number one in the amount of contact information exchanged no one has replied to me yet… I guess being remembered doesn’t automatically mean you’re popular….
P.S.
I’m not to blame for the porno book thing
Translator’s Notes:
* A machikon is a type of speed dating party held in a city where you and a group of strangers (can be as small as 10 or as big as 100) meet up with the goal of potentially hooking up. You don’t get a lot of time to talk to each person so a good first impression is very important.
** Shobon means downhearted or dejected. I thought about changing it to something else, but I couldn’t think of an English word that truly captures how cutesy and punchable Totty is being as well as “Shobon” does so I ended up leaving it in. Like, the image of him sighing out “Shobon…” makes me want to both hug and slap him, and I wanted to convey that feeling as authentically as possible.
This Is probably one of my favorite Matsuno Family Diary entries. It really captures Todomatsu as a character: he wants so badly to be his own person apart from his brothers, but he also doesn’t want that and hates being alone and even when he spends a night away from his family he still ends up talking about them the entire time because despite thinking he’s better than them he still deeply lacks confidence in himself as an individual person. In conclusion, Todomatsu is a land of contrasts, bless his dry little co-dependent heart.
Up next: A Valentine's Day Existential Crisis with Choromatsu!
66 notes
·
View notes
Note
STAAARRR I NEED UR ADvice . PLZ
ok so theres this concert happening next thursday that i may or may not already have bought tickeys for without asking my parents and my parents are VERY STRICT AND WILL NEVER ALLOW ME TO GO TO A CONCERT AT ALL. ESP AT THE TIME ITSBAT (8-10 PM SO ITS LATE) AND SO . I was being a little devious and thought of some excuses. that it was a dinner conference for my internship which i had to go to bcs i didnt go to the one during the winter. which came off well to my mom but her only response was “ohhj thays late…its ok ur dad can wait outside the venue” UMMMMMMMMMMMmzzzzzzUELP . I did research and the venue is literally ONE HUGE ROOM. LIKE THE EXITS LEAD STRAIGHT TO THE STAGE AND THE FLOOR SO I CANT EVEN BE LIKE “oh there was a concert and a conference happening at the same time” AGH! AND THEN MY FRIEND DID RESEARCH ONLINE THRU GOOGLE IMAGES AND SAW THAT EVEN THO THE VENUE IS INT HE CITY, THERE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE PARKING RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE VENUE BCS OF HOW WIDE THE STREETS ARE. SO MY DAD CANT EVEN WAIT LIKE 5 BLOCKS AWAY IM CRURITKEKEJTKJFKEJ. AND ALSO ITS LIKE…IN THE CITY. WHOSE ACTUALLY DRIVING TO THE CITY PEOPLE USUALLY USE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. IM GOING TO SOB. THERES NO GUARANTEE THAT THE STREETS WILL BE FULL OF CARS BCS OF THAT.
so we made another plan. i think she forgot abt the conference for now bcsssaaa i mentioned it sometime last week but like. now my excuse is that my boss gave me a ticket to bring a friend and so im gonna “bring” my girlfriend. and then ill say that my gf has to do smth w her family the next day so its more convenient for her dad to pick us up and drop us off bcs he was gonna come do that anyway.
on monday, my friends and i r literally going to the venue to scout the area out im being so fr 😭😭💀
do u think itll work be honest. im also terrified of even bringing up the “conference” again bcs idk im jist SCARED 😭😭😭 But i wanna go to the concert so bad plslslsl WHAT DONU THINK. I need multipple BRAINS ON THIS. HOW DO I BRING UP THE CONFERENCE AGAIN TO MY MOM
- a very desperate and malding 💫
HELDPXPSOLEKRKRKFMEKRKKTNT THIS STRESSED ME OUT SO BAD JUST READING IT OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭 idk if you’ve ever seen the movie New York Minute w Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen but this literally sounds like that movie JSKDKLDSKWOEKKRRK ANYWAYS my first thought before I finished even reading this was that you need to get a ride home from ur FRIENDDDD there is literally no way around it I’m almost 100% sure that if your dad waits outside the “conference” for you he’s going to know what’s going on 😭😭 but I think it makes total sense to say that your friend has something the next day so you need to get picked up by your friends’ family! Don’t even phrase it as a suggestion or a question just straight up be like “yeah her parents are picking me up so I’ll let you know when we’re all on the way home” and be as casual about it as possible! Don’t say anything that might invite more questions 😭 AND if worse case scenario you do get caught, just say there was a change of plans (keep it very vague) but don’t pile on more lies, just be mostly honest w them. Like “yeah there was a change of plans so my friends and I opted to go to this event instead but I didn’t think it’d be a big deal because I already told you guys I’d be busy that day” and if they scold you then just let it happen and don’t argue more! Parents just want you to be safe at the end of the day so you can’t blame them too much but also I don’t see an issue going to a concert if you already said you’d be out, I change plans all the time and as long as I get home safely and answer the phone when my parents call they’re usually okay w it. GOOD LUCK BESTIE LMK HOW IT GOES……… also have fun at the concert wtaf that sounds so exciting!!!! Be safe please!!!!! 🩷💘💝💓💞💖💕🫶👼✨
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
so i read Lies We Sing To The Sea, and honestly i do not think this book was worth all the drama that surrounded it.
it's a perfectly fine YA fantasy, even complete with a love triangle. i read it in 3 days, it wasn't exactly mindblowing but it was engaging enough and the ending genuinely surprised me. i liked it, but probably won't read it again.
and the entire tag for the book is just people who haven't even read it screeching about how the author, Sarah Underwood hasn't read the Odyssey, and is from England.
and now i feel the need to rant:
right away i'm going to brush away the England point, because it feels like just another symptom of this weird hatred of England that's overcome tumblr in the past few years. sometimes it's funny, like yeah, we are pretty shitty, the monarchy and the British Museum suck, and that should be talked about. i'm not going to act like i'm oppressed because people online make fun of a country i just happened to be born in. but it so often slips over into classism. you lot make fun of poor brits way more than the people in power. funny British accents? working class accents. gross British food? poverty meals. it's punching down.
admittedly, i have no clue what Sarah Underwood's finances were or are like, before or after she sold her book. but my point is that i'm not entertaining this idea that her being English inherently makes her worse, because i don't trust this scorn to be warranted anymore. from white Greek people especially. sorry, but the BM having a few of your statues does not make you an oppressed minority any more than me being from the north of england makes me one, and it's frankly embarrassing for you to keep acting like a non-Greek writing a story set in Ancient Greece is at all equivalent to actual cultural appropriation.
it's not her fault she got a publishing deal and you didn't. be honest for a second, that is what you're mad about, isn't it? that she has a bigger megaphone than you right now. there's no shame in it, all of social media is about trying to grab attention, and drama is good at that, but let's not get too aggressive towards those who don't need to get mad on the internet to get that attention.
as for the not reading the Odyssey thing... first of all i read that whole interview and i can say right away that that interviewer did a shit job. she misspells the name of Jessie Burton, another Greek myth reteller, for christs sake! if the interviewer seemed to Underwood as thick as she seems to me, i don't blame her for fumbling a bit. talking to idiots is hard, and we have no idea how accurately she was portrayed, considering the people publishing the interview clearly did no research or spell checking.
and as someone who has read the Odyssey... no, you really don't need to have read it all to write a story set hundreds of years later, with only one character in common, a character who is given barely any characterisation in the original text. there is one chapter in this book that retells a part of the Odyssey, and i think it did it excellently. you don't need to read about Polyphemus or Circe or Nausicaa to write about the lives of those inside the palace. we don't know how much the author actually did or didn't read, but to me reading the book, it seems like she read enough.
the people who are acting like you have to know the Odyssey inside and out to write anything remotely related to it are snobs, plain and simple. not everybody was lucky enough to get an education in classics. it circles back around to this issue of classism in the UK, only private schools and i believe seven public schools teach ancient languages or classics. picking up The Odyssey from a random bookshelf and reading it with no prior knowledge of the time and place it was set in can be hard! the customs were completely different than they are today! with nobody to explain xenia or nostos or epithets to you, it can be daunting! some translations have great forewords that can help with that, but not all.
is the book a masterpiece? no, it's a bloody YA book! have you seen the absolute deluge that market pushes out? there are plenty of mid books padding out the genre, and this is just one of them. i can name half a dozen better greek myth retellings or YA romance-adventures, and i do always recommend you read the actual classics if you think they'll interest you. all i'm saying is that the book doesn't deserve the absolute slating it's getting, and that Sarah Underwood certainly doesn't deserve this harassment or review bombing. does anybody deserve that, just for writing a silly YA book? sometimes we need to take a step back from the bachannal and really think about who or what we're ripping to pieces in our frenzy.
i'm not gonna sit here and insist you read Lies We Sing to The Sea or praise Sarah Underwood. for all i talk, i can't reach through the screen and touch you, you can do what you like with your time and energy. but if you do share your thoughts or leave a review, then yeah, i think you should have at least read a couple of chapters, at the very least to avoid showing your ass by parroting blatantly false statements. and if you make up your mind on how you feel on it after only a few chapters... well i don't think you have much of a leg to stand on when you complain that she drew conclusions without reading all of the Odyssey.
#lies we sing to the sea#sarah underwood#it's such a mid book i can't wrap my head around the drama it's causing#it overshadows the book itself by miles
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here Gator, let me fix that "letter" to BC for you...
Hey Ben, (Corrections have been done in RED TEXT)
I know you think that I am nothing but the kid who keeps running to tattle on you to the teacher, but you need to remember that I wouldn’t be doing it if you’d help YOURSELF. I know you don't know I even exist but I really want my few remaining followers to pay attention to me, so here goes another "Hey Ben" letter.
And don’t forget that I know a LOT more than I have leaked/tattled about. Here's the part where I sound like I'm threatening you and at the same time let it be known to anyone reading that I reeeeeeally am IMPORTANT so DON'T IGNORE ME!!!
Things are coming to a head, what with Iger taking control again, Zero’s health, $$$ running out, Adam, Usher and Birkin trying to find a new victim (and I know how they plan it, btw), and you feeling guilty about the kiddos. I know I've said this dozens of times before but THIS time I really, really mean it! SHITS going happen! Disney is going to END THE SHAM!!
I also know you’re scared. Team Z is doing whatever they can to hold onto you and your access to money. I saw that article about the farm you and Sophie bought and of course it completely destroys (again) all my "Sophie is ruining BC financially" stories, so I have to distract my few followers from this news!
I’m sure they are planning another trip to the Sunken Place for you, as I type this. Let me throw in another veiled reference to make it sound like I'm in the "know" concerning your fate! It's all bullshit but it makes me sound "important"!
But you should know how many people are questioning the different pics of the kiddos. If I was being honest I'd say that number is probably around 6-8 people. But hey, how can I spread any lies if everyone knows it's only the hardcore Haters that are questioning the existence of your family!
It sucks. It really does. But Disney is playing hardball. You can work with them or they will let you go down with Team Z, for all the trafficking and other crimes…maybe even all the sexcapades online and off…You know and I know, Iger doesn’t bluff. And, unfortunately, most courts of law do not allow DID as a valid defense. Now I have to remind everyone about just how scummy I said you are (you know - the "sexcapades" and all!) and also show that I have dreamed up this DID thing that would excuse all the BAD things I blamed you of doing!
There may even be a part of you that believes you should go down, since you couldn’t stop them. But that is survivor’s guilt. There is truly only so much you can do for those kids. Here's my latest bullshit - I'm going to say YOU are complicit in harming CHILDREN! Of course, I don't want you to look irredeemable, so I'll just say that you aren't really capable of truly helping those "fake" kids, who I'll say are TRAFFICKED BY SOPHIE!
The BEST THING? Use their trust money to get them away from Team Z, into Therapy, and placed with a good person as their caregiver/nanny. Maybe a good Day School, so they can avoid what happens in Boarding Schools. Now, not only is Disney holding YOUR $$$$ in a TRUST, apparently the 3 children who keep popping up beside you, NOW HAVE TRUST FUNDS TOO!
And it’s not like you are really doing anything to protect them RIGHT NOW. ONE more reminder that i really think you are SCUM!
The only thing you REALLY can blame yourself for is letting the Fixer die in vain. still time to avoid that. Oops! Just ANOTHER reminder of how little I respect you - I'll lay a fictitious "death" at your feet!
Also, it’s out there about Zero’s drug trafficking…and her human trafficking. No one would be blame you for walking away and letting Disney handle the spin. You deserve to be treated like a human. You should not feel like you still have to be abused to get jobs. YOU ARE AN ALISTER WITH TWO OSCAR NOMS AND TONS OF OTHER AWARDS. You have paid your dues and should be able to live your own life now. Here's the part where I have to pretend I "care" about you as a human being! By the way, when I say that you "should be able to live your own life" I mean LIVE YOUR LIFE ACCORDING TO THE HATER NARRATIVE!
But you keep putting your head in the sand and trying to ignore your problems. You don't pay any attention to ME and I NEED ATTENTION!
I can tell from personal experience, that doesn’t work. And you are so much stronger than you know. How many others in your shoes died young? JUST A LAST SHOT AT ANOTHER VEILED THREAT BECAUSE I'M A REAL FAN, DON'T CHA' KNOW!
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
i suffer from this annoying problem you see-
i want to do more, i really think i do- but i just feel so confined by my current living situation where i am consantnly around my family- you see in 2020 my father mother and eldest sister had to move in with my older sister and i because of covid costing my parents their jobs- i wasn't exactly doing stellar before this but i was feeling like i was starting to get a handle on my life and starting to figure important things out- but since the move i feel like ive had to put that all on halt......
i stopped going to online therapy because i have no privacy to do so and feel safe because if i wanted to get any real progress id have to talk about my family and my childhood whici i do NOT want any of them hearing about and i cant go physically because i cant drive and i dont want to waste more gas and the time of the others- i stopped drawing because i have no privacy to safely express myself without their eyes unless if i lock myself in my room which they will judge me for and now my dominant hand is permanantly injured making it painful to draw unless im careful about it- i am confined downstairs in the living room most of the time because i need to watch my dog (this is on me though I can accept that) so i feel like i have no space for myself and when i take leisure time feel nothing but guilt everytime my family comes by- they love teasing me over the dog too saying i dont do enough i dont know how much theyre joking i already feel like shit all the time so i dont really appreciate the jabs- being on here is the one consistant thing i can muster up enough energy to do- but even so not without constant guilt- most days off dont feel like much of anything.
its hard even to engage in my interests anymore- dont have the time, dont have the energy, dont have the privacy, dont have the intelligence, dont have the confidence, idk... just been tough lately i guess.
not even my room offers much respite- my parents room is right across and they love to keep their door open- i feel them watching everytime i go in
i feel stuck
i feel like im wasting my life
i feel like i will never get out of here
i do not know what to do
i dont think theres even anything waiting for me even if i can
tw suicide talk
i cant go back to school because i have no idea what i want to do with my life- theres so much pressure for me to be succesful and each day i feel like more and more of a failure- and i know if i try and fail again i might end up trying to kill myself like i did last time
but to be honest i know i cant even kill myself because i know the cost of a funeral wont be worht it and because im too much of a coward to do so
but staying alive isnt much better when you feel like a constant financial drain and worthless layabout all the time
and everytime i think i find some sort of plan or some way out its like a carrot on a stick thats tugged away from me like a joke
it's so funny- i was openyl gushing about how hopeful i felt and now realitys crashing back down once again! there's no getting out of here.
to make it all worse this year has been terrible for me healthwise- im falling apart in so many ways and i feel even worse about being a waste of money-
i dont feel like i can talk to any of them about how awful i feel- most of the time any attempt to do so ends poorly and even when it doesnt nothing changes- i dont know where to make heads or tails of it all- i know im to blame for a lot of my own issues i know i overreact and take things too personally- i feel like i paint an unfair picture of them sometimes but eveyr day feels harder to keep on going- i already struggled with doing basic shit to take care of myself but recently it feels impossible
they did always say i just dont care enough- either its always been true or at some point became it.
i dont want to go to my stupid fucking job that bores the shit out of me- but i have to- i have to be of use somehow- i didnt sleep last night- i dont want to go to work because when im at work i just think about all the things i could be doing- actually useful or fufilling things i know i wont do on my day off despite how badly i wish i was while at my job
but i have to- it's almost time- so i guess i will.
whats the point of writing all of this- a cry for help maybe? pity seeking maybe even if i try to deny it over and over- i guess im just nearing my breaking point- something about these ast few months have been really grueling lately- again probably to do with all the suddent medical issues and the fact that my 20's are halfway done and i have nothing of worth to show for it- i dont know what to do i dont think im ever escaping this place and maybe thats for the best
I’m not a good person- I have all the same horrible traits they do. I just hide it on here to appear more likable.
im 25- its too late- ive wasted my entire life- it was always going to end this way everyone whose ever knwon me could see it thats why they all gave up on me- i did too. theres no point in prentending i can be fixed and wasting any more money. i feel like a ghost in this house watching life pass by. i feel like a stupid child trapped in an adults body.
i dont know what to do anymore-everything feels like sawdust.
But I’ll be fine… I’m numbing it all out. I don’t feel enough to want to hurt myself this time. like i said i have to go to work soon
im going to go downstairs and my mother will see my horribly messy hair and she'll make some annoyed comment about me needing to brush and ask me to run my fingers throught the tangles and we'll go to work. and i'll tell stupid jokes to try to make her smile because its the least i can do.
despite it all i love them still- but some days i wish i could love them from a safe distance.
im tempted to delete this like i do with all my breakdowns that i post on blogs that arent my vent blog but i think i'll keep this one up- because deep down i think i do want some advice or help or something- i cant keep living like this. i dont know what to do to stop. i just wish i had more to offer in return.
or maybe i just need to yell- whatever- doesnt matter- i'll go back to my usual postings on both of my active blogs regardless of whatever happens after this post-im sure i'll regret it later and try to just ingore this and hope you all too but it's like 4 am so whose even gonna see this lol
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I love your account because I also adore Mileven. They're literally the couple that had been setup since ep1 season 1. It's a simple story written by the duffer bros abt El being the survivor of the secret govt experiments, her powers, and its supernatural other side creatures, and the kids who help her and the people she learnt to trust along the way.
It's a pretty simple story tbh but somehow along the way the fandom has become toxic from all the many demands and expectations of different shippers. And I'm also beginning to think the writing is also partly at fault; for not giving Will a proper character arc instead of just.... sad boi.
I think partly people just wanna see Will be happy and somehow some of them started pinning that cause of happiness to be only Mike and Mike alone--and that's why I said the writing is partly at fault, because its refusal to write Will to meet new people, to write Will be happier.
I've seen how you've been defending Mike and I support you since passion is also my biggest trait lol. But I hope you understand that these haters will never stop hating no matter what you tell them. You can explain it all until you lose your breath and they will never agree with you.
I'm in a lot of fandoms and I've learned that sometimes, just not listening to their hate gives them less power. Over time, I've actually begun to like the characters that I used to dislike before in various fandoms--maybe that's the way for it to go--maybe the more people experience things irl maybe the more they'll understand characters in stories. And that's usually how people end up saying stuff online abt some characters in past shows like "oh this character was so underrated, that character was misunderstood" -- but by that time, no one really cares anymore. It's an old show, the echoes have long faded.
There's a lot of things about Mike that the writers failed to explore, and that makes it so easy for haters to fill in the blanks. And this goes to a lot of the other characters too and no, i do not hate the characters. It's okay to admit that some writers are good at writing exciting plots, but not so much at character arcs
At the end of the day, it's a story that we're supposed to take pleasure in and find entertainment in and instead the wars and hatred from various sides are becoming a turn off from the fandom
And not to mention, there are usually lots of people who likes A Thing but are silent fans, compared to haters. Haters are loud even if their quantity are smaller and maybe that's why they're all you'll ever hear. It's easier to be loud when we like something compared to when we do like a thing.
That's all! Kudos!
Hello! Well, I agree and disagree with you. Of course paying attention to what they say gives them more power, you're right. But I also know that me saying anything wouldn't change at how they look at things, I am not doing it for them. I am doing it for myself. I am doing it to vent. I am utilizing this space to support a character I love by giving valid points, to share the other perspective in contrast to the popular one.
Also, I do not blame the writers or makers for any of this. First of all, the character arcs. For a show like this where you get very little time to show the personal lives of the characters, I think they have done a very good job in developing their characters properly. I mean sure, you may think that they didn't, that's your point of view, but I don't agree with that. Secondly, about Will having a love interest, to be honest, he hasn't been able to come out yet, he hasn't been able to accept who he really is yet. Also, even Noah knows that he has just entered high school, he is a shy kid and it's the 80s, so it was more difficult to come out than it is today. And along with that, you are in love with your best friend who also happens to be your sister's boyfriend, that's even more complicated, so if anything comes out that affects 3 people. The story is still left, so I guess we have to see if there is a reason why they have not given that scope to Will. But then there's Steve also, not a LGBTQ character, he has not been able to find love after Nancy either, he still has feelings for her. But people don't find that problematic? Why not? The other day, I finished watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the bisexual character there, Rosa, chose not to settle down in the end when all the rest of the people were settled down/married and had become parents and found the usual 'happy ending'. Do you think that the writers did that intentionally because they wanted to show that she doesn't deserve to be happy? No.
So it's not the writers' fault, they did what they felt is right for the character, for some reason. If anything, they kept it realistic, because not everyone has it so easy in life. I don't know why that's so shocking or surprising to so many people. I mean if wearing a blue shirt, standing in front of a closet and so many more such things make people decide that these are all related to the sexual orientation of a character that is not anyone's fault, it is what they wanted to see. If they think Mike lied in his monologue, can you really blame anyone else for that? If they read too much into everything, then they are willingly choosing to be disappointed. And when things don't happen the way they want, they start creating drama over that.
Seeing how things are getting misinterpreted, misunderstood, and misconstrued and then being used against the characters just makes me angry. And I merely vent here. That's all.
But thank you for being so nice! Maybe someday I will get tired of venting as well. But till then, I would always stand up for Mike.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just random/unpopular opinion...
So the Owl House will be ending soon.... and I will write my opinion on the finale but this is more of the show in general....
You know what annoys me a little. That even if we cut these three eps in half. Looking back, it’ll be forever known that Disney... a company that says “We love our LGBTQ fans”. They gave a very popular show that was trying to give a good story/and representation to the LGBTQ only 6 episodes(again if you cut the whole hour long eps in half) when THEY decided to cancel it.
But they’re giving Big City Greens 20 whole eps, another season and apparently a movie. Now before someone says “Dude don’t hate on this show”. I’m not, I get it. Its popular/its cute kids love it, in general. Its not about the show in general its about how unfair Disney has been to the Owl House.
Now again not hating on the people from the studio who supported Dana Terrace. From what I hear(again hear, I have no legit refs), the staff and such were good to her. And yes I’ve heard rumors that when season 3 was green-lit, besides Disney being Disney. Rumor was they want to blame the COVID era on why they scrapped it, instead of giving it a chance.
I would believe that except Amphibia was made during COVID era and its finale was allowed to have the normal amount of episodes. The Ghost and Molly McGee was made during COVID-era and they were GIVEN 20 episodes and are having their second season air soon. Now Moon Girl and Devil Dino you could argue that. But even Moon Girl got more than 6 eps for her first season. BIG CITY GREENS was also here and its been saved. Again I’m not trashing these shows.
I still like Disney, I love Amphibia, I love Moon Girl (Lunella is both adorable and likeable), Molly McGee’s show is good(haven’t had time to catch up), Big City Greens... depends on eps. Not the point, the point is it feels like from day one the Disney big wigs want to say they care but when push came to shove they pushed Owl House under the bus.
Why? To save bucks for this multimillion dollar company? To save face in Florida? I honestly don’t know. But its gonna forever bother me that the Owl House wasn’t given a fair shake. And I will forever blame Disney. And in addition Disney is to a degree a monster. Just the company as a whole, I’m not gonna touch on the problems and complaints. Just... sorry Owl House, sorry Dana Terrace. You had a great show. It was incredibly great and my niece loved it.
And this won’t mean much from nobody online. But what I’ll miss most was Luz. Granted she’s Dominican and I’m Mexican. It was for the first time in ages, if I can be honest. That I saw a who knew Spanish girl, and had the same interests as me. I didn’t know many Latina/Hispanic girls in my community/or family tree who liked what I liked. They all liked boys, their hair/fashion/makeup... but I was the odd duck who liked manga/music/ anime/mythology. And the other classmate girls went through fads.
So yes while I learned Luz wasn’t the same ethnicity as me. It just gave a sense of I dunno relief/gratitude that I could see a character who had same tastes as me and like me when I was her age. I struggled in school because I was different. I dunno I can’t just “representation matters”... because I dunno if I’m allowed to say that cause if I’m right Luz was Afro-Latin American? and I’m just Mexican I’m fairly certain I can’t say it. But I dunno its her character that appealed to me. Sorry I’m rambling.
I just wish I could tell Dana Terrace thank you for making Luz and giving a face to me and probably any other kid who’s struggling because we’re the odd ducks. And I wish more could had been done for her.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's been almost a week since we last communicated. The entire time, you've never left my mind. Is it far-fetched to ask if you think of me too? Do thoughts of reaching out to me ever cross your mind? We never had a thing, and I know it's my fault for developing feelings for you. But I don't understand because you're the one who pulled me into this situation. It all started with you, yet I couldn't blame you. Where else could I turn?
It's been eight months, and I always yearn for an answer, but I couldn't muster the courage to ask you. I actually wrote you a letter, but I lack the courage to send it. It will never reach you.
Sometimes I hate you, yet I can't hate you at all. I tend to do the stupidest things with friends, but with you, I always wanted to be careful and only show you my good sides. I tend to get shy, even if I wasn't like this with you before, as if I want to impress you with everything in me. I feel like we're making progress, but I guess my cautious, quiet, and shy nature pushes you away. I know you like someone fun, and I'm not that fun. I can't help it because every time you're around, it makes me shy all the time.
To be honest with you, I wanted to greet you during Christmas, but once again, I had to be careful not to give away the hint that I like you. In the end, I chose to hold back. This isn't the first time I've restrained myself; I've done it countless times. You might think I'm a bad friend, that I don't pay attention, and that I simply don't care. But truthfully, I'm always observant, especially when it comes to you. I pay close attention, yet I deliberately hold myself back.
I can't pinpoint exactly when I started to like you. I just know that gradually, I developed feelings for you. I didn't pay much attention to you before when I still regarded you as a friend. But once I started liking you, I took the time to look back at our old pictures from college. It's cute because I don't remember them, yet it seems we were often seat mates. There are so many moments I don't recall, but fortunately, there are photographs to help preserve those memories.
Getting closer to you has been nice. I thought I already knew you back in college, but after spending more time with you, I've realized there's so much more I can learn from you. I can feel that there's a lot more to discover about you.
There's this wall within you that's hard to climb, but over time, you're slowly opening up to me. Still, it feels like a long journey, and I'm not sure if I can ever scale that wall.
Initially, pretending with you was enjoyable, but as time passes, it's becoming exhausting. It began as a happy crush, but I've reached a point where I seek answers and hope for these feelings to be reciprocated.
It's frustrating to glance at my phone, hoping for a notification from you. It's disheartening to navigate through messaging apps we've used before, checking if you've left a message for me. It's saddening to see you online on these platforms without reaching out. It's embarrassing to hold onto hope when it's unclear whether you feel the same way about me or not.
A week without much communication, just small interactions with you. I'm slowly learning to detach from you.
I don't understand why you initiated daily messaging, why you reached out first for a few days, why the conversations were engaging, only to leave me hanging.
Why do I feel like you're mirroring my energy? It's as if you're playing the game I started with you, and you're close to winning. Or have you always been like this?
0 notes
Text
Can My Attention-Span Get Any Worse?
Well this is embarrassing. I need to clear my head, because it's become too clogged with thoughts I don't want. I've been forced to take so much input that not having any input into my head makes my brain cry out for it. It got used to it. Cycles become comfort. Comfort becomes discomfort. Discomfort becomes wailing, and my brain wants a pacifier.
I think it's important to be honest with ourselves when we're feeling childish, or when we're feeling insecure, or when our egos are getting a little too high for us to maintain. I don't do too well if I'm ever off of an even keel, but I manage to get some good writing done.
Sobriety hasn't been kind. I miss my soft drugs, and the cigars certainly didn't help. I'm trying to recover from so many little demons at the same time that I feel like it's all going to fall apart at once.
"At least I'm not smoking cigarettes"-I tell myself, consoling myself with the coping fact that I'm not like my parents, but cutting it off before I manage to admit that I'm actually functioning worse than they were at my age.
Not blaming everyone else for your problems is a difficult subconscious task to master. I've lost touch with reality more than a few times this past week, completely sober. Days disappear into unemployment, and I've vowed to myself to enjoy my short time, almost like a mini vacation. With so much being expected of me within this past year, I've been crumbling to keep up.
I've been making ends meet. I need to look in the mirror and tell myself I'm okay, and actually believe it. It's become so difficult.
Forty-five minutes on. Fifteen minutes off.
I've been working on my content, the things I create to present to other people. I haven't decided if I want to be quietly, intimately-creative, through hobbies; or if I'd like to be bombastically-widespread in my creativity, reaching as many people as possible.
I suppose I should make a decision, it's going to affect a lot of my career going forward.
Forty-five minutes on. Fifteen minutes off.
I feel an intense pressure in my head at 3:45 in the morning, as I'm writing this. I'm trying not to lose control, which is a tall order when you feel your deck is as stacked as mine.
In any case, it doesn't matter. Whinging online was popular twenty years ago when we were all first still getting the hang of this shit, but now, we're better. We're tired of it. Only universal, unanimous truths to the human condition will ever see the light of day, and even then, it still might not happen if you hit the unlucky stroke of time.
Forty-five minutes on. Fifteen minutes off.
I tell myself it'll be okay. I know I'm lying. This is life, this is reality. True, unshaven, unfettered reality. Nothing can be done about it. My "it is what it is" meter is almost full, because most people would like to think they're plagued with the visions of how the world is, but also tangentially, how the world could be.
I guess I should slow it down, take it easy... not put pressure on myself, my legs have stopped shaking in a seated position, so I'm calmer. I'm at my most insecure when I'm tacking away at the keys, creating something that I deem valuable. Who am I? Another speck in the universal soup that doesn't matter. These words do not matter, have never mattered, and will never matter.
Forty-five minutes on. Fifteen minutes off.
Time to get back to what I was writing. It's all I'm good for, anymore.
#writing#blog post#sorry for the rant#creative writing#rant#post#mattering#purpose#slow down#take it easy#relax#nothing matters#nothing at all#morose#bleak#sad#three in the morning#send help
0 notes
Note
i dont need advice, ik what to do, so much as i need the nudge to do it. long story short: online bestie (+ my only friend) is Super busy with college and we rarely talk anymore, and i worry about drifting apart. i feel selfish and clingy bc its not their fault theyre busy and ik they probably just dont have energy to reply with how draining school is
i dont wanna just ask them to make time for me bc that feels accusatory, like i think theyre being a bad friend, and i dont blame them for anything. i just miss them but if theyre busy then theyre busy and theres not much they can do about it
ik i should just bring it up to them bc theyve always been very supportive of my insecurities, but i always feel so vulnerable talking abt my feelings and i dont feel good abt my messages sitting for days/weeks until they have time to check and respond. probably not good to just let these feelings sit either but i have no idea when the next time theyll be online is, or if theyll even have time for a proper talk when they are. im prone to downplaying my feelings and im worried ill end up deleting the messages before they can see
Hi lovely,
I know you said you don’t need advice, but I hope you don’t mind if I give you a little bit anyway. Write out how you’re feeling, and write it out on a piece of paper, be as honest with yourself as you can about how you’re feeling, try your best to not to downplay your feelings. Then once your done you can send it to your friend, crumple it up, rip it up, or just throw it away. I also hope that writing this all out in my inbox helped you feel better.
0 notes
Note
Yamada: so how did you and izuku start dating
Aizawa: I saw him crush a watermelon with his thighs and I accidentally said out loud “oh god I wish that were me right now” and here we are now
~The way this immediately and completely ate my entire brain~
Of three things Aizawa Shouta is absolutely sure:
One, he simply was not built for operating during the daylight hours. Nighttime really is where it's at in his opinion. The general lack of crowds and eye-searing sunlight just can't be beaten. (Dusk and dawn hours also get a pass but they're both on thin ice.)
Two, the beach is a sandy hell-scape whose only redeeming factor is the convenient access it provides to the eldritch horror that is the ocean aka the place he'll doubtlessly end up drowning himself when he finally, and according to Hizashi inevitably, snaps and runs gibbering mad into the abyss.
And three, he's absolutely and irrevocably cursed. He's being singled out and punished from on high by the gods themselves. His name is writ large across the cosmos in mockery. There is a cosmic "kick me" sign taped to his spiritual back and Shouta's going to hunt his former student Sero down and give him detention for life for encouraging his family's patron god to put it there.
By this point it's really the only logical explanation.
Which, as a card-carrying atheist, he's pretty sure is saying something about the depth of his feelings regarding his current circumstances.
Because there's no other explanation for why or how he's managed to find himself in this current situation.
The situation being, of course, Shouta, in full hero gear, standing in the hot sun on a pristine sandy beach, surrounded by screaming fans as he provides extra security and crowd control for the 20th Annual Heroic Sukiwari Charity Drive.
Shouta has seen hell and it is both Ms. Joke's open mic night and this exact moment right here.
Because, again, he's absolutely 100% cursed.
And the avatar of said curse is, obviously, his soon-to-be ex-best friend who somehow roped him into this entire thing.
Because some people say divine retribution when talking about cosmic revenge plots but Shouta tends to just says Yamada Hizashi. The two are, in many ways, interchangeable.
Shouta's going to put purify salts in all of Hizashi's hair products and also his sugar jar and possibly his energy drinks the next chance he gets.
Because if he never sees another shirtless pro-hero or another watermelon again in his life it'll be too soon.
He's pretty sure he has permanent hearing damage from all of the screaming and screeching the crowd's been doing since this thing started.
And if, after all these years of friendship with the personification of a megaphone, watching a bunch of pro's crush watermelons with nothing but their personal strength on a beach to raise money for various charities is what finally destroys his hearing Shouta is going to shave Hizashi bald before he finally embraces sweet death.
Or enacts Nezu's birthday plans and becomes a supervillain.
The jury's honestly still out at this point.
Shouta does his best to shut out the screaming behind him as one of the cameramen slides up beside him, getting a better angle on the stage as Hizashi, who's currently screeching about Miruko's performance, practically dances across the sand in front of where Shouta's standing.
"Wow, wow, wow," Present Mic chants as he dramatically fans himself, "that was one on heart-stopping, hare-raising show. Let's give it up for everyone's favorite bad, bad, bunny, Miruko!"
For her part, Miruko just struts off the small stage with a nonchalant wave to the crowd, her tiny white bikini in place and the pulverized remains of the half dozen watermelons she'd dropped kicked into soup left behind her.
"But don't lose that rhythm yet listeners," Mic announces gleefully.
"Because we've got one more hero set to take the stage! So, without further ado, it's the moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for, myself included if we're being honest. The pièce de résistance of our little shindig, the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."
The crowd is absolutely deafening.
And, for once, Shouta has to grudgingly admit that he can't actually blame them.
Shirtless, sculpted shoulders and tight abs on display thanks to his low sitting and almost criminally short green swim shorts, and with his trademark bashful smile in place, Dekiru trots out from behind the curtained-off area with a crate of watermelons resting on his shoulder like it's no big deal.
Shouta's pretty sure someone to his immediate right faints but considering they're not currently a trample risk he ignores it.
But the casual show of strength with no quirk use in sight is more than a bit impressive.
For all that people, romance specifically, and attraction in general, have all been things to be considered on a firm case-by-case basis for Shouta, even he has to admit that Dekiru is ... captivating.
Rather drastically so for Shouta considering he's never actually met the man before in person.
Though Shouta does feel like he almost knows him on some level considering the fact that it really would take an act of the actual gods to get Yagi to shut up about his erstwhile protege during staff meetings.
Dekiru waves his free hand at the crowd as he sets his crate of watermelons down on the stage.
"Show us what you've got!" Mic demands from a few feet to Shouta's left. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"
The crowd starts up a loud and steady chant of "De~ki~ru!" as the hero pulls his first watermelon out and begins his set.
With an effortless flex of muscles, Dekiru digs his fingers into the watermelon and wrenches it completely in two.
Shouta reaches up to tug at the top of his uniform, relishing the small sip of cool air it grants him.
Shoulders and biceps flexing, another watermelon meets its end between Dekiru's palms.
Shouta really needs to add a water bottle to his utility belt because hydration is important. Or so he's been repeatedly told.
"Those hands, those muscles," Mic groans dramatically. "He really is the Can Do Hero!"
Cheeks noticeably flushed, Dekiru sits down on the stage and fits a watermelon between thick, toned thighs.
His hips twist, those thighs flex, and the watermelon cracks, spilling juice and sweet pink flesh all over Dekiru's lap.
"Oh god," Shouta can't help but say, "I wish that was me right now."
On stage Dekiru's eyes go wide as his attention somehow abruptly zero's in on Shouta.
It's at that moment that Shouta becomes aware of the deafening silence that's fallen over the beach.
Head-turning agonizingly slowly to the left, Shouta's confronted with the sight of Mic, microphone in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.
His sunglasses are askew and he's staring at Shouta with a look on his face that's one part horror and one part unholy glee.
As a matter of fact, the entire beach is staring at him in much the same way.
For a moment Shouta just freezes, body going still at having so much attention turned in his direction.
This ... was not the turn he was expecting the day to take by far.
His first instinct is to, honestly, use his scarf to slingshot himself directly into the sun so his soul can be cleansed with cosmic fire.
But then ...
"Ah," Dekiru speaks up from on the stage, one hand ruffling the back of his hair and cheeks darker than before, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"
There's suddenly a part of Shouta that doesn't actually want to delete himself from existence via self-immolation.
And there's an even large part that doesn't want to outright reject Dekiru's seemingly sincere offer.
Because, when it all comes down to it, Dekiru seems to be, by all accounts, what passes for exactly Shouta's type.
Whip-smart if his very public arrest record and tendency to argue online and on the air with people he disagrees with is anything to go by.
Cute, with that dark green hair and sharp undercut, matching wide eyes, and a face sprinkled liberally with freckles.
Leanly built and small enough that Shouta's sure he could move him around easily but obviously muscular enough to be able to put up just the right amount of resistance in the right situation.
And, above all else, if the stories are to be believed, obviously some degree of batshit insane.
More than one story Yagi had told during breaks had Shouta questioning if the man had imported special American demons back to Japan and then stuffed them all into the deceptively charming and approachable-looking hero that is Dekiru.
So there's really only one logical way to proceed forward in this situation.
Shouta grins.
Several people in the crowd around him step back.
He's pretty sure he hears someone start reciting a prayer.
But Dekiru just blushes, eyes locked on Shouta's and teeth tugging at his lower lip.
"Hope you like coffee," Shouta finally says into the breathless silence that's fallen over them, "and cats."
Dekiru lights up, a smile brighter than the sun and twice as deadly blossoming across his face.
Just off of Shouta's side, Hizashi's busy having some kind of hysterical seizure.
Around them the crowd is going absolutely feral.
Yagi's going to birth actual kittens in the middle of the staff room when he finds out about this.
Shouta can't wait.
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen)
─── soc. media + written fiction!
─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS
yns_fishnets donated 5$
mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point!
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!!
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse social media au#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fic#corpse husband social media au#social media au#myso#make you say oh#quackity#dream smp#corpse x y/n#imagine#imagines#reader#xreader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Go Baking My Heart || Seokjin
Pairing: Seokjin x reader
Summary: You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.
Also available on Ao3.
Word count: 14.7k
Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Bakery AU, tooth-rotting Fluff, some smut
Warnings & Tags: mentions of insecurities and of former relationships, smut (vaginal sex, oral [male receiving], fingering), Jin makes Bad Jokes, Valentine’s Day themed
A/N: Soooo this was supposed to come out for Valentine’s Day, but it wasn’t ready then, so you guys get it now instead! I’m bad with puns so I definitely had to look online for those used in this oops. Finally, I’d like to give a big thank you to the amazing @elidebrey who actually worked in a bakery shop and told me all about (I’m sorry you guys ran out of milk all the time). She’s an amazing writer and you should check her out if you like the Batfam! Hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot!
February 15th
You first walk into Kim Seokjin’s bakery the day after Valentine’s Day. Your eye was caught by the chocolates and cakes you noticed on sale from the outside, and also the name of the place, The Rolling Scones, which is either genius or terrible, you can’t pick. The door bell chimes happily, first when you push the door open and then when it closes behind you.
The place is empty. There’s no one behind the counter, and you find yourself hesitating there for a second, both arms behind your back like a shy schoolgirl — which you once were, but that was a while ago now. Natural light, the cold sun of February, is falling through the bay windows, and the place is cute, clearly decorated with love and care. It makes you feel just a little warmer inside.
Since no one seems to be showing up, you take your time to look at the display. You’ve spent the past week crying over the end of your two year relationship, and you’re desperately craving something sweet and sugary to fill the hole in your heart and in your life. Post Valentine’s Day discount is definitely the best way to do that.
If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you knew this relationship was never going to be your forever. It was just a nice and comfortable situation to be in, and you expected you and him to part ways at some point.
You just didn’t particularly expect it to be now.
“Jungkook!” a strong voice shouts from the back of the shop, startling you. It’s quickly followed by a curse, and then a man walks in, glancing back with a worried expression, tying an apron around his waist and adjusting a small black hat on his head. You notice the ‘Jungkook’ tag on his apron, and it makes you soften in sympathy. The second his eyes fall on you, he recomposes himself, and shoots you a smile that’s professional, though the nervousness doesn’t quite disappear. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just looking,” you say, and he leans forward, probably straining to hear. Your voice has always had that weird tendency to become inaudible when you’re talking to strangers. “You don’t have anything with strawberries, do you?”
“I’m afraid everything we had went yesterday,” he says with a sympathetic frown.
“Oh, right,” you mumble. You’re disappointed to a stupid degree, and you know it’s because your emotions have been running wild recently, to the point where any small contrariety threatens to make you cry. Fortunately, you don’t, right now. That would be horribly embarrassing. “Um, I guess I’ll take that box and, uh, the éclair, please, then.”
“Of course!”
His movements are quick and precise as he takes it out, and you could be mistaken, but you think he’s deliberately not looking at you. You’re not particularly blaming him for it, though, because you’re doing the exact same thing.
“Anything else?” he asks once he’s done, and you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. “For here or to go? We’re also a café,” he elaborates when you give him a surprised — and slightly panicked — glance.
“Oh. To go, please,” you say, not so much because you actually want to, and much more because you’re bad at changing your plans when you had already made your decision.
Except… You eye the bakery. It’s not like you have anyone to come back to, and you don’t particularly want to be back at your apartment to wallow alone. You might even get some things done while you’re here.
“Um, actually, would you mind if I…?” The question dies on your lips. You’re already feeling too embarrassed to continue, but he looks up, eyes wide, and nods.
“No, no, please take a seat! Do you want something to drink as well?”
“That— That would be nice, actually.”
“Alright, just give me a second and I’ll bring you our, er, menu.”
It’s not a menu, it’s a list of drinks the owner printed and coated with plastic, and insists on calling a menu, but he isn’t going to tell you that.
You pick a table that faces the door, and after choosing and ordering your tea, pull out your computer. It’s not that the things you have to do can’t wait, but you don’t like sitting alone doing nothing. The shop is desperately empty, and part of you is terrified by the idea that Jungkook could come over to talk to you. That would probably end up not being completely unpleasant, but you’re not sure you can handle that much interaction with other human beings right now.
While scrolling through the text you are currently working on editing, you pick a chocolate out of the box to eat it and hold back a satisfied moan at the taste. The fact that it’s so good makes you feel a little more upset that you’ve never been in a relationship for Valentine’s Day and therefore have never been given anything like that.
It’s always been bad luck really, because you’ve been in a few relationships, but even with your last boyfriend, the two of you were on a break in February. The others never made it longer than a few months, and never fell at the right time. It’s not even like you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, you do think it’s mostly a commercial holiday, and you definitely don’t want any expensive gift, but you’d be happy to have someone by your side to make fun of other couples with. Someone to love you, and someone to love.
God, you want to be in love so bad. For a few months, you thought you had it with your ex, and maybe you did, for a moment, but it had slipped from your fingers without you managing to do anything about it, leaving you sad and empty. You want to feel everything the movies and books promised, the butterflies in the stomach, the rush in the beat of your heart. You want to feel like someone holds your world in their hands. You want them to love you back — really love you, so much that you’ll catch them looking at you and see it in their eyes immediately, so much that they’ll remember how you like your tea in the morning.
You don’t think your ex ever loved you, and you don’t really blame him for that. He liked you, certainly, and for a long time that was enough for you. But now, with it being over and him telling you he’d ‘met someone’, you want more out of your next relationship.
Then again, you’d thought that last time as well.
You’re grateful when Jungkook brings you your tea, tearing you away from thoughts you really don’t want to be having right now. He gives you a smile, then is quick to retreat back behind the counter, and something tells you that he has the same difficulties talking to people as you do.
That can’t make his job fun.
You’re soon able to immerse yourself in your work, much to your surprise. Usually, you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, and it’s hard to get work done unless you’re in a place that’s both quiet and familiar, but the atmosphere in here is so warm and pleasant that you’re able to relax and focus, all while drinking your tea and eating your sweets. It’s quite close to perfect, actually.
Which is why you jump violently when someone’s voice booms into the shop.
“Jeon Jungkook!”
You look up, panicked, and Jungkook turns around with the exact same look on his face. You don’t remember the doorbell ringing, so it has to be someone from the shop, and indeed, a tall man with short black hair walks in from the same place Jungkook entered. And your brain short-circuits.
It doesn’t happen all that often, for you to simply find yourself frozen because of how good-looking someone is, but in that case, you just can’t help it. The man who just walked in is tall, with very nice, broad shoulders, and the apron he is wearing underlines the muscles of his chest in ways you didn’t think were possible, but more than that, he’s also, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. When you glance at his plump, full lips, you find yourself having a hard time to tear yourself away. You’re relieved that you didn't have to order from him, because you’re sure it would have made you blush and stutter.
“Jungkook, there’s a mess in the back! What are you waiting fo—” Jungkook gives panicked glances in your direction, and the man catches your presence from the corner of his eyes, turning his sentence around as smoothly as is humanly possible, all while his lips curve up into a professional smile. “Ooh, hello, dear customer! I don’t think we’ve seen you here before, have we?”
A smile spills on your mouth, much to your surprise.
“No, it’s my first time here,” you answer. Your voice isn’t as strong as you’d like for it to be, but at least you didn’t choke. You suppose still being heartbroken serves as a shield against the man’s handsomeness. “I figured there’d be some discount after Valentine’s Day, and I was hungry, so…”
“You figured you’d kill two birds with one scone?” the man asks while Jungkook, behind him, silently smacks his forehead. You figure he’s heard it a million time before, but you haven’t, and you can’t help but laugh. That makes the man’s smile widen genuinely and his eyes crease.
“I guess you came up with the bakery name,” you chuckle.
“Absolutely. Isn’t it a great name?”
Jungkook shakes his head in disgust.
“It’s genius,” you say, and the man slams his hand on the table.
“See? I told you! Jungkook keeps saying that I have a terrible sense of humor—”
“I’ll be in the back if you need me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“Hey, what do we say to customers?”
“Ah— It was nice to meet you!” he says, turning around to look at you and he seems somewhat sincere. “I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”
Then he bows his head politely and disappears in the back of the shop. The other man — who you suppose is the owner of the place — watches, laughing fondly, but goes quiet after that, so you go back to your work.
You don’t stay around too long, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but you’re still the only one in the shop by the time you decide to walk out.
“Was the tea any good?” the man asks as you walk by him.
You nod and smile.
“And the chocolates were delicious,” you add. “I’ll make sure to come back.”
“That’s music to my ears,” he says, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. That’s when you notice the ‘Seokjin’ tag on his apron. You don’t know what to do with that information, though. You don’t call strangers by their first name and you also don’t stalk people on line.
Especially not when you don’t have their last name.
You say a quick ‘goodbye’, then walk out. Jin’s eyes follow you for a few seconds, before he sighs and turns around, already taking off his apron.
“Jungkook!”
The boy is quick to appear again, scanning the shop for your presence.
“She’s gone?” he asks, and Jin gives a slap at the back of his employee's head with a groan. There’s no strength in it, though, and Jungkook barely reacts to it.
“How could you run away like that, you little—”
Jungkook easily avoids him when Jin tries to him it again, laughing at his outrage.
“We’re not going to be getting a lot more clients today, are we?” he asks, looking outside at the passers-by that don’t even spare a glance at the little shop.
“No,” Jin groans, letting himself fall on a chair.
The depressing calm that follows what is possibly the busiest day of the year for him is just one of the reasons why he absolutely despises Valentine’s Day.
February 22nd
When you show up at the bakery again, about a week later, you’re feeling surprisingly good about it. Last time went well, you decided, and the people were nice, so you’re not afraid to throw a quiet but polite “Hello!” when you walk in. It’s kind of funny — or is it sad — how it always surprises you when people are nice to you, much more used to passive disinterest at best.
There’s another man in the shop this time, with a laptop and a coffee in front of him, but he doesn’t look up at you. A head lifts up from behind the counter though. You feel vaguely embarrassed that you remember this one is Seokjin, and you only feel more awkward when he gives you a dazzling smile.
A glance at the display tells you that they have restocked on their strawberry-based pastries, and you happily pick a slice of cake for yourself.
“For here or to go?”
“I’ll have it here,” you say with a smile. You feel strangely proud of yourself for being able to say it spontaneously. He has no way of knowing it, but it’s quite the victory for you. Usually, you try to run from the presence of others as fast as you can, and it’s even worse those days. “And I’ll also have Darjeeling tea with it, please.”
“Coming right up, just take a seat and I’ll bring it to you,” he says, and then he winks. He doesn’t stick around to see the surprised look on your face, so you just do as he told you, wondering if he was flirting with you or if he’s just Like That. You think that second explanation might be the answer.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says when he arrives with the cake and the tea. You’re pretty sure he can’t place you exactly, just thinks your face is familiar, but it still makes you happy.
He tells you he hopes you’ll come back when you leave, and you decide you want to believe it.
June 1st
You’re not sure when you become an official ‘regular’ at the bakery. Maybe it’s when you ask Jin if they even do scones, and he leans over the counter to tell you conspiratorially that he actually wanted to call the shop ‘bake it ’til you make it’, but was told it was too long. That elicits a brief burst of laughter from you, and Jungkook tells you to stop encouraging him, but Seokjin looks so happy with himself when you laugh that you decide not to listen to him. Jin has that way of breaking past your shyness that fascinates you. It might be what keeps you coming back, more than the delicious sweets and how beautiful the two workers look.
Or maybe it’s when Jin tells you that it’s not fair you know their names but they don’t know yours, and that he’d ask you for your ID before selling you stuff if you don't tell him. When you tell him, he repeats it a couple of times, like he’s tasting it, before nodding with satisfaction. After that, him and Jungkook start greeting you with it, and insist you do the same with them. You’re reluctant at first, feeling somewhat confused about the whole thing, but it turns out to feel… nice, to have people to greet, and who also know your name.
Maybe it’s when Jin tells you that you’re late when you come in, or complains when you don’t show up on one of your usual days because you had a meeting with your boss. He doesn’t say anything on the day where you take your pastries to go because you’re visiting a friend at the hospital, though, and you wonder if he can just tell. Regardless, you appreciate it.
You find out about other people who come here frequently, too, and especially the ones who are friends with Jin and Jungkook. Namjoon, who sits with his laptop at the opposite end of the café from you. Yoongi, who usually sits in the same spot as you, and eyes you threateningly when he comes in and you’re there the first time, until Seokjin tells him to knock it off. Taehyung and Jimin, who always come in together, and who Jungkook usually joins to bicker and laugh with them. Hoseok, who likes to waltz in at random times, and whose smile actually rivals Jin’s.
You yourself come in twice a week, getting to your usual place to work — except on the couple of occasions where Yoongi gets there before you and gives you a triumphant smile when he sees you. You enjoy the way you’re always greeted by Jungkook or Seokjin, like they’re genuinely happy to see you. You discover that the old ladies who come here to gossip love to flirt with Jin and that, even though he flirts back outrageously, much to their delight, his ears tend to turn a bright red when he does.
You even bring your friends on a couple of occasion, and Seokjin jokes that you’re responsible for half of his turnover at this point. Your friends enjoy the food, and the drinks, but they enjoy the handsome employees and customers a lot more.
“So this is where all the hot men were,” Hana marvels when you walk out, and you burst out laughing. You like that you’ve shared this place with her, because it’s something that makes you really happy these days, motivates you to come out of your bed, and even to talk to people, something you’ve never been good at.
When you walk into the shop and make small talk with the people you’ve come to know, something you used to consider yourself terrible at, it might be silly, but it kind of feels like home.
June 21st
You are pretty sure you know when you go from regular to friend, though. It’s a day like any other and you hum on your way to the shop. Instead of the joyful “Welcome back, (Y/N)!” that you’ve gotten used to hearing these past few weeks, however, you’re greeted with Seokjin shouting “(Y/N), my savior!”.
You freeze on the spot and give him a worried look. From his table, Namjoon looks up, just as puzzled.
“Is everything okay, Jin?” he asks.
“Jungkook isn’t there today,” Jin tells you. His voice doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is a glint of panic in his eyes. “I need your help.”
Namjoon stands up.
“Why didn’t you ask me? I could—”
“Stay where you are and don’t even think of approaching my kitchen,” Jin says threateningly. “(Y/N)? Please?”
Well. You suppose your work can get done later. You’re more productive when you come here, so you have some advance on your usual deadlines these days. But you don’t know what Jin wants from you and you’ve never worked in a bakery.
“What do you want me to do?” you ask cautiously.
He grabs your shoulders and your eyes widen at the contact. Not that it’s unpleasant, just unexpected.
“I knew when you first walked in here that you were a godsend,” he tells you seriously, looking right into your eyes, and you tell yourself that if he’s that good of an actor, you should probably watch out. “We’re out of milk.”
You blink.
“Okay. Is there a specific type of milk you want?”
“Just, milk. Get me milk and I’ll worship the ground you walk on until the end of days.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and take your bag off your shoulder, handing it to him.
“Look after that, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll protect it with my life,” he says solemnly. “Also paper napkins please!” he shouts as you’re already walking out.
“Will do!”
“Bake a leg!”
You want to protest the joke that even you find to be quite bad, but the door has already closed behind you, so you just shake your head at him, only to see him laughing with satisfaction through the glass, and head to the nearest supermarket.
You come back with two big packs of milk and a lot of paper napkins, just as two men are exiting. You’ve seen them before, but they never stay to chat. Inside, Jin is juggling three women, and he looks more relieved than you’ve ever seen him when you walk in.
“I’ll help you with that,” Namjoon says immediately, bumping in the table as he gets up.
“If you break anything, I’ll kill you,” Jin warns him. He’s smiling like he’s joking, and his tone is light, like he doesn’t want to scare off his customers, but his eyes say he’s sincere.
You’re quick in the back, and Namjoon does drop the packs once, but nothing bad happens. He presses a finger against his lips to tell you to keep it a secret, and you grin without a word. Part of you is kind of wondering what you’re doing there, why Jin feels comfortable letting you in the back and why he asked you to do that, but you don’t have an issue with it, not by a long shot. This is… kind of fun, actually.
“Anything else you want me to do?” you ask Jin when you come out, and he looks at you in a pleading way.
“You don’t mind?”
Something tells you you shouldn’t accept too quickly, that you could end up in way over your head faster than you know. But his brown eyes are wide and desperate and you just can’t say no. So you smile and shake your head.
“Of course not. You look like you really need a hand here.”
“I do.”
That’s how you find yourself in an apron, with the cute, black hat Jin and Jungkook always wear on your head. Jin mostly sends you in the back to pick up things he needs, or makes you bring the beverages to the customers, which you’re thankful for, because that way you don’t have to greet anyone. Time flies quickly, and you can barely find a second to breathe for the first few hours.
“Sorry, it’s lunch time,” Jin grimaces as he passes you by, and you think to yourself that at least, it will get better, but it takes a while even after that, and when it’s done, Jin sends you to buy some more stuff from the supermarket, because as it turns out, things go fast.
Before you know it, it’s closing time, and you look outside in disbelief. The sky is starting to turn a nice pink, and other shops are putting up their shutters.
“You can go, if you want,” Jin tells you. He sounds terribly sorry, and that makes you feel bad. It’s such an unusual tone for him to have.
His offer is tempting, of course. Your feet hurt, your head aches a little from all the noise that never bothered you before but turns out to be a lot when you’re there all day, you’ve burned your hand against an oven, and you’ve found out that carrying things ends up really hurting your back. But you know that he’s experiencing the same thing you do, and you just don’t have the heart to abandon him here. Also, you’ve already lost your day, so you might as well help him out now.
“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you want me to help with anything?”
Cleaning up goes quietly in the main shop, and that soothes you a little. You don’t mind the silence, even enjoy it, and find yourself relaxing for the first time today. Surprisingly, you’re feeling… satisfied. It’s not something you would particularly look forward to doing again, but you’re happy you did it, happy you helped Jin, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something today, which is always a good thing.
“You have flour everywhere,” he tells you bluntly when you walk in the back of the shop, and you laugh.
“Well, it got everywhere,” you reply, trying to rub some off your face, and it’s Jin’s turn to laugh when you fail miserably.
You know you shouldn’t do it, but you gather a small handful of flour from the table, and throw it at him. A good chunk hangs in the air and makes you cough, but the rest does land on his apron. His mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape and you know you’ve messed up.
“Listen, I am so sorry—”
“No you’re not,” he says, taking a step towards you. His hand is on the table, which is covered with flour, and you swallow.
“Sure I am, Jin, please—”
But your pleas fall in deaf ears, and flour is soon flying your way. It’s your turn to stare at Jin in disbelief, and then you’re laughing, loud and clear.
Maybe that’s the exact moment when the two of you become friends — really friends.
Or maybe it’s seconds later, when the room you’re in turns into the scene for an all-out flour battle. Regardless, you’re laughing the whole way through, when you’re not choking on the flour hanging in the air. Jin’s laughter is quieter than yours, miles away from the booming and somewhat fake laugh you’re used to hearing from him.
The fight only escalates when Jin picks up an egg. You shake your head, mouth ‘no’, but he doesn’t listen, and after that, things get a lot messier. By the time the two of you, exhausted and bent in half because of how much you’ve been laughing, finally stop, you can feel yoke trickling down your back, and you know the sight can’t be pretty. Jin reaches out to you in a useless attempt to wipe some flour from your face, only to laugh more when it, of course, fails once more.
You try not to think about the jolt of electricity that ran through you when his fingers came in contact with your cheek.
“I’ll clean up in here,” he tells you, “but you should go take a shower upstairs.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, surprised. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of the fact that you don’t know him that well. In recent months, you’ve talked to him more than you do with your close friends, and you did just throw several eggs at him, but you don’t know him. You’re aware of the fact that he lives above the shop, but you’ve never been there. The two of you have never even exchanged numbers.
He makes dramatic hand gestures to signal you to get away, like you’re bothering him, and you leave with a last laugh. You don’t notice the way he looks up when you do, or the way it makes him smile. He can’t help it, he just loves that he makes you laugh.
You’re relieved to step into the shower, both because you’re happy to clean up and because there was something really awkward about being in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, alone. The place was not quite as decorated as the bakery was, with paler colors. Walking through it, you had noticed big speakers, some books in a shelf, and a couple of cute plushes that you had had to resist not to fawn over. The place worked for him, you had decided. It was more understated than you would have expected when you had just started to know him, but it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Jin tends to be quiet when he doesn’t have to be ‘on’, and it’s something he doesn’t seem to feel he has to do around you anymore.
You sigh in pleasure when the hot water hits you, close your eyes. You’ve been craving it for hours now — long before the food battle with Jin. It helps relax your aching muscles, washes away all the sweat from the day, and you have to resist not to just let yourself fall down onto the floor. Your back hurts, but the worst part has to be your feet. You feel yourself gaining a lot more appreciation for Jin and Jungkook, who are always kind, smiling and polite despite all of this. The only thing that kept you from biting someone’s head off tonight was your crippling anxiety when it comes to interacting with strangers.
It’s almost funny now to think you used to feel that way around Jin.
You look around for some soap you could use, and in your search, you’re surprised to find shampoo that was definitely intended for a woman. You don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s no wonder that Jin would have a girlfriend, really, it’s the opposite that should shock you, but you still didn’t expect it. You force away the pinch in your chest. Jin is a new friend, you can’t have your heart fluttering like that.
You consider using it for half a second, before deciding that it would be very awkward if you came out smelling like his girlfriend. Instead, you do your best to get rid of any egg, and tell yourself you’ll wash your hair at home. You barely hear the sound of the door opening and closing over the water, and you’re startled by Jin’s voice outside the bathroom.
“You can take a towel from the chest of drawers,” he tells you, “and I’ll leave a shirt outside, if you want it.”
“Thank you!” you shout back.
Seokjin stands there a few seconds, before quickly shaking his head and walking away. He knows his ears are turning red, and he hates himself for it, but is it his fault, really? Is he supposed not to think about you, right now, in his shower, water running down your body? He never even thought to pretend he was that innocent.
He occupies himself by preparing a drink for the two of you, and then by cleaning around. He’s not particularly messy, though, and there isn’t much to do, so he ends up sitting on his couch, feeling awkward in his own house, and scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He freezes again when he hears the bathroom door open and close, guessing you’re picking up his shirt. Which means you’re— God what is wrong with him tonight? When did he regress to the state of a hormonal teenager?
He hopes he looks natural when you come out, because he’s doing his best for that. The nervous way he’s running his hands over his thighs would probably give him out, though, if you weren’t feeling just as stressed as him.
“I’m done,” you mumble, your shyness coming back, which you decide is to be expected in that situation.
It vanishes the second Jin looks you over and snorts.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, glancing down, and immediately you know that you’re probably ridiculous in his black shirt. It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. “It’s not my fault if your shoulders are that broad,” you pout.
“You look so small,” Jin chuckles. He sounds endeared, and if you noticed that sort of things, you would absolutely realize that his eyes linger on you in his clothes fondly — and a little longer than necessary.
“Want something to drink?” he asks, gesturing at the stuff he got out of the fridge when he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Sure,” you smile, letting yourself fall down on the couch next to him and pouring yourself a glass. The brief awkwardness that washed over you when you came in vanishes already, because of how comfortable you feel around Jin. He’s always been good at making you feel that way, and now he doesn’t even have to try.
“So, how did you find your day?” he asks you, and you look at him, surprised by his tone. He sounds quiet, cautious almost, like he’s worried about what your reaction might be, or that he could be bothering you.
“Fine,” you say with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d want to do it again— When is Jungkook coming back?”
Jin chuckles, and again, it takes you by surprise. It’s so… quiet. So discreet, compared to his usual attitude.
“He should be there tomorrow, don’t worry about it.” Then, he grimaces. “But seriously, thank you for helping out today. I owe you.”
“Yes you do,” you say with a grin, bumping your shoulder against his, trying to lift the mood a little, because he sounds genuinely worried. “Just offer me the tea next time, and I’ll consider us even.”
Finally, a smile forms on his lips, and he shakes his head dramatically, putting his hand over his heart.
“No, I don't think I could ever repay you,” he says, and you laugh at his antics, like you always do. He looks a little appeased by that, and that’s a relief. “Your back must hurt,” he says. “Turn around.”
You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, startling when his hands fall on your shoulders. They’re large, engulfing you easily, but they also move gently as he slowly massages you.
“Oh,” you gasp, leaning back into him. This is— good. This is very very good. For a few minutes — or maybe much longer, you couldn’t tell — you just stay there, eyes closed, lips parted, focused on the delicious feelings of his hands gently rubbing all the pain and soreness of the day away. When he stops, it takes you a few seconds to come back down to reality, and maybe, just maybe you miss the feeling of his hands. “Oh,” you repeat, rolling your shoulders slowly. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Jin says. “It’s kind of my fault.”
You turn around, shaking your head.
“Seokjin,” you say. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind helping.”
“You’re too kind,” he frowns. “You shouldn’t let people take advantage of that.”
“I’m not!”
Then Jin smiles, in a way that only lifts one corner of his lips, and suddenly you feel— you’re not too sure. Something seems to melt inside you, something moves in your stomach like you’re free falling. You probably should recognize the feeling. It’s not like it’s anything new to you, and yet you miss it. You do something you almost never do in that situation, and you take a step back. You glance up from his lips, shoot him a smile, and get up from the couch.
“It’s getting late,” you comment. “I really need to go home.”
Jin is on his feet immediately.
“I’ll walk you back,” he says, concern flashing in his eyes.
“I’m good. It’s not that far and I need to clear my head after, you know, everything today.” You’re not sure you know, but Jin nods, though a little reluctantly.
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
He sighs. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it, but you guess he doesn’t want to insist too much, either.
“Give me your phone,” he says, and when you hand it to him, he types his number in, pouting as he explains himself to you. “Text me when you get home, alright? Otherwise I’ll just worry all night, because everyone is so unreasonable, and just wants me to lose sleep, and—”
You take your phone back from him with a laugh.
“I’ll text you,” you promise, briefly putting your hand over his. That feels— normal, you decide. It’s not like your hands have never brushed in the months since you’ve started frequenting the bakery. It just feels fine, and whatever there was before could just be a false alert. But then Jin looks into your eyes, and the feeling comes back.
“You better.”
You practically flee the bakery. You’re trying to make sense of the whole thing in your head, and it doesn’t go over great. You let Jin know you got home safe, and then do your best to push the whole thing out of your mind when you go to bed. You refuse to think about it too much. Not because you don’t understand what’s going on, but because somewhere, deep down, you do. This isn’t— this isn’t something you do. You fall hard and fast, that’s— that’s your thing.
Sometimes it’s nice, others it’s disappointing, but most importantly, it means that when the relationship is over, your life just goes back to what it was before. It you ever had feelings for a friend, someone you’re so used to having around… You’re sure it would truly break your heart.
July 15th
Summer is horribly hot this year. Fortunately for you, your favorite bakery has started serving ice cream. There is air conditioning in the store, but with the door constantly opening and closing, gusts of hot air regularly reach even you. No one seems too happy with the situation, with Jungkook seeming to slowly come apart under the temperature. Even Namjoon has abandoned ship, leaving much earlier than usual today. He waved at you when he got out, and you waved back.
Who knew, maybe the two of you would actually talk next time.
Jin uses a lull in the otherwise busy afternoon to drop at your table, and you smile to him. You haven’t really gone through anything like that night ever since, and you decided it was just a one time thing. You were tired from the work, and you were touch-starved, and, surely, there was nothing there, other than you gaining a new friend.
Yup. Nothing to see at all. Even when he’s sitting next to you, trying to fan himself with one of the bakery’s menus, head thrown back in a way that makes his Adam’s apple even more prominent.
You never thought yourself as someone who particularly enjoyed necks, but it seems you were wrong.
Not that that has anything to do with feelings, of course. Jin’s just hot. You already knew that.
“Hey, (Y/N), what’s your favorite cake?” he asks you.
It takes you just a second too long to answer.
“Uh. Anything that has strawberries in it, I guess,” you say, and he nods, but he’s also frowning. “Are my tastes not up to par?” you grin, raising an eyebrow.
“Clearly, your tastes are great, since you keep coming back,” Jin answers immediately, with the confidence that you now know to be mostly facade, but that you’ve still come to love. “No, strawberries are good. I can work with strawberries.”
“I actually wanted strawberries the first time I came here,” you reminisce. “But there weren’t any left because that was after Valentine’s Day.”
Jin clicks his tongue in disgust.
“Worst day of the year,” he says, “though February is a bad month for strawberries in general.”
“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?” you ask, and if you were a dog, your ears would be perking up with interest. You’ve always loved to hear people’s opinion on the holiday, because it’s so divisive. “You guys must make quite a lot of money…”
“I’m wounded that you’d think money is all I care about,” Jin sighs dramatically, though the glint in his eyes lets you know that he’s only joking. “It’s just very busy,” he admits. “It’s a lot of work to prepare, people place a lot of orders, and we basically don’t get a minute to ourselves. Not to mention— do you know what it does to a person to know that the food he lovingly prepared is probably going to be eaten off someone’s body?”
You can’t help it. You burst out laughing. When you do, you’re completely unaware of the fond way Jin looks at you. He’s always liked that he made you laugh, from the very first day you came into the store.
“No,” you admit, “no, I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well I have to.”
“I’m so sorry for you.”
“I’m sorry for me too.”
Then Jimin practically waltzes in and energetically greets everyone in the room, including you, and Jin gets up to serve him and Taehyung because Jungkook looks like he’s about to collapse, and you don’t give much more thought to the conversation.
But Jin remembers that strawberry cake is your favorite.
September 18th
Somehow, you get roped into helping Jin with his grocery shopping. He sat at your table and complained about how Jungkook wouldn’t be able to help him that week, and you voiced your sympathy, and next thing you knew, you were in the supermarket with him.
Well, maybe you’d offered your help. Maybe you just didn’t want to admit it because of that time he’d told you you were too kind.
“You know, I thought I’d be helping you for the bakery,” you comment, “but this mostly looks like it’s for you.”
“I am the bakery,” Jin replies, and you grin.
You watch him as he carefully crosses item after item of his detailed list. You expected him to be messy, to grab whatever he wanted, but he is as meticulous with this as he is with the baking he does for his customers. Which is— strangely endearing to you.
“Most of what we get comes in bigger orders,” he explains to you once he’s done with that aisle. “Sometimes, we find ourselves missing some things…”
“Like milk.”
“It’s always the milk,” he sighs, shaking his head it brings back bad memories. “But that’s not an issue for a lot of thing, unless something very specific comes up. Like a customer wanting a pineapple pie.”
You tilt your head as he cautiously picks pineapples. You’re not even sure how you can tell if a pineapple is ripe, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing.
“That sounds… interesting?”
“It’s going to sound very interesting when I’ll make you carry half the bags,” Jin says, and you roll your eyes. Does he think you’re going to bail on him? You would never do that.
Well. Until your eyes fall on Minho, standing there, like he hasn’t simply vanished from your life six months ago. There’s a woman with him, and she’s laughing at something he said. You suppose she was the one he met — or maybe another one, there’s no way of knowing, really. But they look like they’re getting along well, and it— it makes you happy. You think.
“Huh,” you mumble. “That’s my ex over there.”
Jin looks up so fast you worry he might hurt his neck.
“What? Where? Do you need me to insult him?”
You’re about to say no when Minho turns around, and his eyes meet yours. He gives you a hesitant nod, and you think that’s going to be it, but then, after a few seconds of obvious inner debate, he makes his way towards you.
Great.
“(Y/N),” he says, a bit awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you reply softly and, much to your surprise, you mean it. You did your best not to let yourself miss him, but you suppose you did. It’s been a long time since you last saw him.
“This is, erm, this is Lisa,” he says, gesturing at the woman, who gives you a polite smile. It looks like she knows exactly who you are, and you suppose it must be uncomfortable for her as well. “My girlfriend.”
Yeah. You’d pieced that together. But then, Minho’s eyes move to Jin, and he raises an eyebrow, and you realize what he’s thinking about.
“Oh, this is—”
“Seokjin,” Jin says, extending his hand. “I’m her boyfriend.”
You’re sure that anyone looking at you can tell from your expression, from the way your mouth falls open and from the incredulous way you shake your head that that’s not true, but both Minho and Lisa are looking at him, and miss it completely. When Jin looks at you, he gives an imperceptible nod and puts an arm around your shoulders.
The warmth is— kind of nice. Maybe it even sends a shiver down your back, but you’re sure it’s because you’re still quite touch-starved those days.
Nothing else here.
“That’s great,” Minho says, and he looks relieved. “It’s great that you’re with someone.”
“Isn’t it?” Jin says before you can think of anything to answer to that. “She walked into my bakery and I just knew she would become my favorite client. Basically love at first sight.”
“Love at first sale, maybe,” you can’t help but answer, even if you know, reasonably, that you shouldn’t entertain him. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to show off in front of the two, which is really unnecessary, but you appreciate the gesture. “Jin makes the best cakes you can find in the whole town,” you tell them. Not to show off, but because it’s true. There are a lot of good things you could tell them about Jin, come to think of it. A lot.
“Maybe we should try it then,” Lisa says, smiling. She looks more relaxed than earlier, though you suppose she could also just be trying to get out of this conversation.
“Oh, it’s a must,” you reply sincerely, and Jin laughs, pulling you against his chest a little.
“She’s too nice,” he says, and you immediately protest that no, definitely not, he does, and you’re sure you look like a very annoying couple, because it doesn’t take long for Minho to clear his throat.
“Well, we have to go but it was— it was nice catching up with you.”
“Same,” you nod, and when he leaves, you can’t help but watch him. You don’t really feel anything right now. You were sincerely happy to see him, but it felt like running into a childhood friend you haven’t seen in a long, long time, and now have nothing in common with outside of those memories. Except it hasn’t been a life time since you last met him. Just a little over six months. Soon, he’ll just be someone you used to know.
You wish you were more upset by this. You wish there was anything that told you that what you had with him actually mattered. Instead, this vague indifference lets you know that your paths had probably diverged before the two of you even broke up. And that makes you kind of sad.
“Are you okay?” Jin asks. He has that quiet voice you’ve heard a few times now.
“I’m fine,” you nod, “but you really didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t— Minho and I aren’t— there really was no need.”
“I was happy to do it,” Jin says, and you notice how petty he sounds. “It’s always a joy to let an ex see how much better than them you’re doing.”
You laugh. You probably agree with him on that, but you’re not going to help feed his ego even more. Jungkook would probably never forgive you for it.
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you doing that,” you observe, and Jin answers that remark with a blank stare.
“When have I ever said anything about a girlfriend?”
“Well, there was a bottle of shampoo at your place that—”
“So a guy can’t like having his hair smell like fruit, huh?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Wow, way to reinforce stereotypes, (Y/N). I expected more of you.”
He ignores your attempts at protesting and strides away from you. It takes you a few moments to catch up, because of his stupid long legs of his.
“If I had a girlfriend, I would never stop talking about her,” he lets you know while you’re catching your breath. “So don’t worry. You’ll know about it.”
“Duly noted,” you say. You maybe feel a little too happy about that new information so, to distract yourself from it, you change the subject. “So I’m your favorite customer?”
He scoffs and glances away from you, refusing to meet your eyes. He thought you hadn’t picked up on that.
“You’re a strong contestant, I guess,” he says reluctantly, and you laugh, not pushing it further.
“Anyway— Minho broke up with me a week Valentine’s Day,” you say. You’re not sure why. Maybe to let Jin that you’ve been over it for a long time.
“That’s rude,” Jin comments with a disapproving click of his tongue.
“He probably wanted to spend it with her,” you shrug. “When we got together, he told me he didn’t cheat. He left. So— I guess that was it.” Then there’s a laugh, and you can’t tell if it sounds bitter. You hope not. “I’ve actually never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day,” you confess.
The silence that follows is unusual for Jin. When you glance up at him, he’s just looking at you, and for a second, you think it’s pity you find in his eyes. But, from the way he frowns, you realize it could just be genuine sympathy.
“Would it make you feel better if I tell you it’s a terrible holiday that’s just there to sell things?”
“I already know that,” you chuckle, even if it does make you feel a little better. “I just want someone to buy me roses once, you know?”
Jin doesn’t answer, just looks at you, and something about the intensity of his stare makes you feel— feel things you told yourself you weren’t feeling for him. But then, you just ran into Minho, didn’t you? It makes sense that you would be all over the place emotionally.
“Anything more on your list?” you ask, and Jin blinks.
“Yeah, that way,” he says, sounding a bit off, but then he adds “More things for you to carry,” and you decide to brush it off.
But he stores the information in his mind. Strawberry cake and roses. Duly noted.
October 31st
“So do you actually like Halloween, or is this just another shameless cash grab for you?” you ask Jin when he brings you your tea.
You have to admit, him and Jungkook truly went all out for this. They’ve decorated the shop with pumpkins, and there are fake bats hanging from the ceiling. There are also themed cakes and chocolates shaped like spiders. It’s spooky, and it delights the kids that come in and ask the parents about it. You definitely appreciate the atmosphere it creates — and you also appreciate the way Hoseok jumped when he walked in front of the witch that lets out an evil laugh when someone passes the movement detector.
“Halloween is not terrible, I guess,” Jin says, like him and Jungkook don’t take a full day out of their schedules and bring in some friends just to decorate the shop. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” you answer sincerely, and Jin’s expression softens.
“Hey, we’re having a small get-together after closing tonight,” he tells you spontaneously. “Wanna join us?”
You take a second to answer. It’s not like you don’t want to — far from that — but there’s that voice inside of you that tells you that you’ve been weird around Jin, and you don’t want to be weird around him. You want to keep things as they are, because he’s such a wonderful friend to have around. You’d hate yourself if you changed that.
But if the point is to have him around, then surely, telling him no right now would be counter-productive, right?
“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and Jin beams, and you feel all warmed-up inside.
You already know that you’ll have fun, and you’ll laugh, and he’ll insist on walking you him and you’ll tell him no. And it sounds exactly like how you want to spend your evening.
January 10th
You first meet Sungho on New Year’s Eve, at Hana’s party. The two of you click immediately, and you enjoy the familiar rush of feelings, the waiting for a text after you’ve given him your number, the anticipation of knowing where this is all leading, if everything goes right. After a week, you run into him at the bakery, or, well, you’re sitting in your usual corner when he comes in. He doesn’t see you immediately, but when he looks in your direction after a little while, you happily wave him over.
“You don’t usually come here, do you?” you ask him. “I would have seen you by now if you were a regular.”
He chuckles, flashes you a bright smile, and you smile in return. Sungho has a nice smile. He doesn’t laugh easily, though, from what you saw when you met him, which is a shame, but definitely not a dealbreaker, even if you love to hear people laugh.
“No, I saw you were talking about this place a lot online, and I figured I would come and check it out. Of course, seeing you here is the best part,” he adds with a wink, and he leans towards you a little. The obvious flirtation sends a wave of heat through your chest, and you don’t hesitate to lean forward as well, resting your elbow on the table and putting your chin on your hand. You enjoy the closeness, the proximity, the chase.
You pull away when Jin arrives with Sungho’s order.
“This looks great,” Sungho comments. “I’m glad (Y/N) advertised you so much.”
“Well, there’s a reason she’s our favorite customer,” Jin replies, smiling, and when you meet his eyes, they’re fond and— and something else that makes it hard to breathe for a second.
But the smile fades when Sungho takes a portion of his cake with the spoon and offers it to you.
“Wanna try it?” he asks, and you do, because you know everything Jin makes will be amazing. You’re not sure you love the gesture itself — it’s kind of cute, but you’ve also just met him and it feels a bit strange — but you still giggle and take the bite.
And all Jin can do is stand there, looking at the two of you. He feels something he has felt before, and it’s that he let something he wanted pass him by. He waited too long to make a move, once again, and once again, it’s cost him something he doesn’t know how he’ll live without, and now he’ll have no choice but to figure it out.
You glance up, and he catches himself, plastering a smile on his lips.
“Enjoy yourselves!” he says, a little too loudly, and he knows, from the way you blink and the puzzled look you give him, that you’ve noticed and it’s— it’s horrible. It’s horrible that you know him that well and that you’ve seen so many facets of him and you’ve chosen someone else. You don’t ask anything, though, and he’s quick to leave.
He’s also quick to ask Jungkook to replace him in the shop, and he, very deliberately, doesn’t ask anything about how things went. Doesn’t want to know if you kissed, or worse, if you left together.
He’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t been through before.
February 5th
You feel impossibly excited when Sungho asks you out for Valentine’s Day. You gush about it to your friends, a lot, and Hana is delighted for you — and very pleased that her circles of friends are meeting like that. Jungkook sounds happy, too, though slightly more reserved, but you get the type of enthusiasm you wanted from Jimin and Taehyung.
Jin gets quiet when you let him know, though. It’s not something you haven’t seen before, but it does take you off guard, because you’ve never seen it happen while in the shop, where he’s usually on top of his game.
“Are you okay?” you ask, worried, leaning over the counter to put a hand on his arm. “You look a little under the weather these days.”
He smiles, but it lacks his usual flamboyance.
“Valentine’s Day is coming,” he tells you. “The worst day of the year.”
You laugh at that, relax, and take your hand off. You miss the way his eyes fall on the place you were just touching.
“Well, not this year, hopefully. Not this year.”
Yeah. He’s not so sure about that.
February 14th
It’s your first time, ever, having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you’re determined to do everything right. Sungho is taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you decide there is no issue in going all out. You take the day to prepare yourself, enlist Hana to do your make-up and hair, and you use the opportunity to wear a lovely bright red dress that you had been saving for a special occasion.
Hana whistles when you come out of your room after you’ve also put on half-transparent black tights.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she says with an appreciative nod.
You glance down at your body self-consciously and try to smooth the fabric of the dress. You do think it looks pretty good, but you could be wrong. Does it show too much of your legs? Does it hug your curves too tightly?
“You think he’s going to like it?” you ask, somewhat shyly.
“He should if he knows what’s good for him,” she replies, expression turning murderous, before softening. “Just… Are you sure you want to be doing that?”
You give her a confused look.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, going out with Sungho,” she says with a vague hand gesture. “I just— I don’t know. Do you like him that much?”
It’s funny. You haven’t really asked yourself that question. You’ve just been going through all the usual motions — the flirting, the dates, and, inevitably, the start of the relationship, which is probably for tonight.
“We— we get along fine,” you answer. “I like him.”
You leave the words ‘well enough’ out of that sentence. You like Sungho well enough. But then, that’s always been good enough for you, so why should it change now?
Hana seems to think about it for a little while, then shrugs.
“Okay then. Do you need my help to walk to the cab? I would not trust these things.”
She’s pointing at your heels, and it makes you laugh. These aren’t even that high, and they’re pretty stable. You don’t think you’ll have any trouble walking in them. Hana wouldn’t abandon her flat shoes to save her life, though, so you suppose the question was to be expected.
“You can just tell me if you want to hold my arm,” you tease, and it seems to take her by surprise, before she chuckles.
“You’ve gotten a little too good at that. I don’t know if I like it.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid Jin has infected me.”
That gives her pause, and she shoots you a weird look, but you miss it. She opens her mouth to say something, then gives up. She could be wrong, after all.
She kind of hopes she’s wrong, or that if she’s right, you’ll realize it soon enough.
The dinner is perfect. You’re dressed perfectly for the occasion, fitting right in the restaurant’s decor, Sungho complimented you when you walked in and you told him he looked great, which is true, the food is delicious, the conversation flows easily, and there are roses on the table. They’re not for you, part of the decoration, and it doesn’t look like Sungho’s gotten you any, which gives you just a little pinch of disappointment in your chest, but it’s also not a big deal. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
And you’re not happy with it.
You can’t place it, and it slowly drives you insane, as you and Sungho make your way through the meal. You try your best not to let it show, but you think he notices your increasing restlessness. You feel bad about it, because really, he hasn’t done anything wrong. You just— something’s not right.
Dammit. It’s your first time having a date on Valentine’s Day, and you can’t make it work.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Sungho says while the two of you are waiting for your desert, and you do your best to snap out of whatever is going on in your head to focus on him.
“Tell me,” you smile, though the smile is polite, rather than genuine.
He takes a deep breath and reaches over the table to take your hand. It’s far from the first time the two of you make physical contact, you’ve even kissed a few times, and it was nice, but something makes you want to recoil, in that moment. You don’t, though. Why would you? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about you makes sense right now.
“I like you,” he says, and you find the breath knocked out of you. It’s not unpleasant, though, it’s very nice in fact, and it almost completely dissipates your previous discomfort. “And I think— you know. We haven’t said anything about being exclusive yet, so I figured I’d— ask.”
He looks pretty confident, which you thought would put you off, but it doesn’t. The answer seems obvious to you. It’s been just a little over a year since you broke up with Minho, which is a reasonable time, so your lips part to let him know that you’d be happy to—
It’s then that you remember. You remember what you told yourself after that break-up, and what you thought after the break-up before that, and the time before as well. You remember you told yourself you wouldn’t settle for less than what you really wanted. You told yourself you wanted to love and be loved. You told yourself you wanted someone who’d remember how you liked your tea.
And, just like in a movie, Jin’s face appears in your mind. You almost dismiss it, tell yourself it’s just because of the tea, until you realize it’s not. It just isn’t. You should have noticed earlier, you know that, but you’ve never been friends with someone before developing feelings for them. You’ve always told yourself you were an ‘all or nothing’ kind of person, that you were the type to know immediately if things could happen. Maybe you didn’t quite believe in love at first sight, but you’d always thought that love didn’t wait.
Apparently you were wrong.
Jin’s the one who inadvertently makes you pulse rush, when his hand brushes against you. Jin’s the one who lifts your spirits, no matter what. Jin makes you happy, makes you want to get up in the morning, has done that for months now. Jin actually knows you. Jin looks at you like you’re precious to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean love, maybe to him, it’s all just friendship, but to you, it’s much more than that. And the feeling you get is so strong, so powerful, that you understand that you need to tell him. Need to tell him now.
“I’m sorry,” you say to Sungho, who’s been waiting for an answer all this time. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think that can work out.”
His face falls, but he looks far from heartbroken.
“Oh,” he says. “Um. That’s—”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, already getting up from your chair. You’re buzzing with excitement, with feelings. “I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal, okay?”
“No, don’t—”
“Sorry!”
You stop at the counter briefly before rushing out into the night. You feel that you know exactly where you need to be.
You get to the bakery minutes before closing time, which is exceptionally at 9 p.m. for the day. A couple is just coming out, and that leaves only Jungkook inside. There’s nothing left on display, and you know it’s been impossibly busy, which means Jin is probably in a bad mood, but you can’t wait until tomorrow. When you walk in, Jungkook looks up from behind the counter, clearly surprised by the sound of someone coming in that late, and a puzzled look settles on his face when he notices that you’re out of breath, your previously perfect make-up now looking a little worse for wear.
“Is everything alright?” he asks. He sounds worried, and any other day you would take the time to reassure him, but in that moment you’re pushed by an energy that can’t be stopped, so you just nod quickly as an answer.
“Is Jin here?”
“In the back,” he says, tilting his head in that direction, and you’re pretty sure a glint of understanding lights up in his eyes.
“Can I….?”
He nods, a grin on his lips, and now you’re sure he knows why you’re here. You don’t wait for him to tease you about it, quick to make your way past him.
You freeze the second you walk into the backroom, though. It’s not just because of Jin’s back, though that definitely has more of an effect on you than you’d like to admit — the broad shoulders, the muscular back, and inexplicably, the nape of his neck. It’s also because of the large bouquet of red roses, standing in a vase on the table next to him. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at them. They look beautiful, vibrant, their fragrance floating through the room, all the way to you.
“Who are the roses for?” you ask, making Jin jump.
Any other time, you would have been pleased to take him by surprise for once, but right now you’re hanging on his words, waiting for an answer. The air feels heavy between you, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t answer immediately, swallowing silently as his eyes travel over your body. You had almost forgotten about the dress you were wearing, and, instead of making you feel comfortable and confident, like it had earlier, you feel naked and vulnerable under his gaze.
Finally, his eyes meet yours, mouth slightly open, and by that point your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if he has any idea of how you’re feeling right now. Had he noticed your feelings when even you weren’t aware of them?
“What?” he croaks, voice dry, like he’s forgotten what you said.
“The roses,” you repeat. “Who are they for?”
You need an answer. Desperately.
Jin’s eyes move to the roses, and his face falls. He turns his back to you again as he goes back to whatever he’s cleaning.
“Didn’t you have a date tonight?”
You shrug, though he can’t see it.
“I broke things off with him,” you say lightly, and you don’t miss the way his movements pause, or the way his shoulders tighten, for half a second, before he keeps moving. “Are you— are you meeting someone?”
“No,” he protests immediately. “You know I don’t believe in Valentine’s day.”
You do. You remember that. So you wait for an explanation. It takes a while, and you just wait silently behind him, suspecting that he’s waiting for you to go away. After a few minutes, though, he slams his hand on the table, still not looking at you.
“They’re for you, okay? You said you’d always wanted roses for Valentine’s Day, and I figured, maybe your stupid boyfriend didn’t know that yet, and that I could maybe just drop them off at your place, and—”
“You didn’t ask me why I broke up with him,” you interrupt him, cutting his rambling short, and he falls silent. You catch his eyes from over his shoulder. Finally, you’re feeling yourself calm down, and at the same time you’re practically shaking with anticipation. “I realized I had feelings for someone else,” you say when he still doesn’t ask, just watching you, lips tight.
“…You do?” he simply says in reply. He’s tense, guarded, and you take a careful step towards him.
“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes aren’t leaving his, not even for a second. “He’s smart, and kind, and handsome.” You take a step for each description you give, and you can’t help but smile on the last word. But your smile doesn’t reach Jin’s lips, and he’s just looking at you like he’s expecting you to tell him someone else’s name, or to make fun of him. “And he makes me laugh,” you add quietly, as you get to him, leaning against the table. “A lot. Some have even said it was a little too much.”
“So who is he?” he asks, and you smile. It’s wild to you that you haven’t understood earlier how absolutely head over heels in love with him you are, especially right now, when you’re standing so close to him. It’s also wild that he can’t see it, because you feel as though you’re radiating with that emotion, feel that anyone should be able to tell.
“It’s you,” you breathe out. “It’s obviously you.”
Then you’re pushing yourself up against his mouth, soft and slow. One of his hands closes around your waist as he leans forward, towering over you. His eyes are shut, and you close your own, reveling in the feeling of his warm body pressed against your own. You feel his tongue darting out to brush against your lips, and they part to grant him access, eager to taste all of him and—
“Couldn’t you tell me that earlier?” Jin protests loudly, tearing himself away from you, and your eyes snap open. “I would have planned the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever—”
You groan and cut him off with another kiss, faster and harder this time, grabbing his wrists to guide his hands to your hips. You moan in contentment into his mouth when he kisses you back and he swallows it eagerly, pressing you into the table, bodies meeting like they’ve been waiting for it for forever and you—
“I wanted to make you an amazing strawberry cake! Now I don’t have any strawberries left!”
“Jin, please,” you sigh, unable to tolerate any other interruption, “would you just shut up and kiss me?”
And, finally, he does. Holds you like he never wants to let you go, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow, and when the two of you part, he rests his forehead against yours like he can’t bear the thought of being away from you even for a second. The silent stretches, comfortable, only filled with your respirations, until someone clears their throat, and the two of you jump away from each other.
“Sorry,”Jungkook says with a shit-eating grin that tells you he’s not sorry at all, “but I was about to leave. Will the two of you be okay?”
“I’m sure we can work things out without you,” Jin says. “Goodbye!”
But Jungkook doesn’t leave right away, turning his smile to you. You would hide into Jin’s shoulder, but you feel so good you can’t be bothered right now.
“Goodbye (Y/N)!”
“Bye, Jungkook!”
“That kid, I swear,” Jin says, shaking his head, as Jungkook leaves, his laugh hanging in the air behind him for a few seconds.
“I quite like him,” you comment, fingers dancing down Jin’s neck to come trace the border of his shirt.
“Oh, you do?” There is a dangerous edge to his tone and you glance up, surprised.
“Are you jealous?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”
“I’m not.”
“Because it’s not Jungkook I abandoned my date for.”
“Good that you did. I never liked him.”
“So you are jealous.”
Seokjin mumbles something incomprehensible and you laugh and hug him tighter. And when he asks you if you want to come upstairs, even if he doesn’t have the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner planned, even if really, all he has to offer is himself, you tell him yes, of course.
Because he’s all you want right now.
It turns out, you wouldn’t have eaten the dinner anyway. The second the door closes behind you, you’re pulling him down against you for a kiss, and he doesn’t oppose any resistance, doesn’t protest like he did before, just lets out a moan into your mouth. He’s just as eager as you are to get rid of that tight dress.
“Careful with the tights,” you warn when his hands start roaming your thighs.
“Take them off then,” he groans.
You press a few kisses against his mouth, feeling delighted with the way he restrains himself, hands turning into fists against your hips as he stops himself from tearing off your closes. Finally, you pull away with a giggle. His eyes are wide and dark with desire, and they only get wider when you playfully slide off your dress’ strap.
“Don’t tease,” he says, practically growls, but you decide that you will. You guide him to his couch, push him down onto it, and evade him when he tries to pull you down with him, slipping out of his grasp. You stand just out of his reach, but more than close enough to be tantalizing, and you see in his eyes that it’s working just fine.
You take the time of making a show out of sliding down your dress down your body, letting it pool down at your feet before stepping out of it. The heels are the next thing to go, and then, finally, the offending tights. The second you’re out of those, Seokjin pounces, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto the couch.
“If you want us to move this to the bedroom, now would be a good time to say it,” he says as he kisses your neck, hands traveling up and down your body, large and calloused, but kind and gentle.
“I’m good here,” you say, arching your back to grant him better access — and to roll your hips against him. “Are you good here?”
You feel his breath catching in his throat when you move, as well as something hard pressing against you in his pants, and his voice is slightly choked when he answers.
“Yeah. This would happen at some point anyway.”
You laugh. You can’t wait to try this in all the places the two of you can think of in his apartment.
“Then let’s get to it, shall we?”
Jin doesn’t seem to have anything to answer to that, especially not when you hook your leg around his, using your heel to push him down on top of you. He’s still dressed, but you plan on rectifying that. You stop kissing him to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he lets you, breathing heavily. Your fingers explore the skin you reveal in the process, and you’re delighted when he shivers as you find out where his sensitive spots are — right under his collarbone, his nipples, his ribs.
Finally, the shirt joins your dress on the floor. You take a second to marvel at his body. His shoulders are even nicer to look at like that, you decide. You capture Jin’s mouth again, this time with your hands fisting his hair. You’re feeling yourself growing more impatient, wetter, and while your panties are the only thing still covering your body, he’s still wearing pants — which is far too much clothing.
“I want you so bad,” you whisper to him, and his breath catches in his throat.
“Fuck. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
That makes you grin, and you arch your back into him again, pressing yourself against his now rock hard crotch.
“Oh, I think I do,” you reply devilishly, and all Jin does is to bury his head into your neck. His fast breathing tickles your skin, and you love it. You love discovering that you have that effect on him, love how you can make him come undone. Another night, you might really, really enjoy teasing him about it, but you have something else on your mind tonight.
Your hand travels down his body to palm him through his pants, and he groans, bucking his hips against it involuntarily.
“Let me take care of that?” you offer, and he pulls away to raise an eyebrow at you.
Wordlessly, you guide him so he’s sitting on the couch, and then, without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees. You watch as his eyes go wide and he swallows loudly. You don’t give him time to regain his composure, gently nudging his legs apart so you can place yourself there comfortably.
“Fuck,” he repeats as your hands travel over his thighs before unbuckling his belt.
He lifts himself off the couch so you can slide down his pants and underwear, and that leaves him in his naked glory. And boy, is he glorious, dick standing erect and proud, precum already dripping from the tip. You suppose it’s been a while since the last time he had any sort of intercourse, and so you decide that you will do everything that’s in your power to make it worth his while.
You do your best to maintain eye contact with him while you lean forward to gently take in the head of his cock, wrapping your red lips around it as your hand grips the base.
“Ah,” he gasps, and you wonder if he gets loud during sex.
You hope he does.
You mostly tease him at first, running your tongue over the tip, and you feel his hand grabbing the back of your head gently. He doesn’t try to control your pace or to push you down. He seems to just be anchoring himself as he lets you do whatever you want. Glancing up, you see that he’s thrown his head back and his mouth is hanging open, letting out quiet moans that sometimes get high-pitched.
For some reason, the sight of his exposed throat turns you on impossibly. You slide a hand down your body to try to get some relief as well, and you moan loudly when your fingers finally find your clit. The vibrations have Jin push his hips up as his hands tighten on you. A second later, his eyes snap open.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, “I don’t mind but— Do you have a condom somewhere?”
He hesitates, then reaches for the coffee table. He opens the drawer, rummages through it quickly, and finds what he’s looking for.
“Taehyung said it was good to have them all over the house, just in case,” he feels obligated to explain to you, even while he struggles to open it and to put it on.
Well, you owe Taehyung one, you decide, but now really is not the time to discuss that, so you pull him down for quick kiss before he can lose himself in his ramble.
“Want you now,” you tell him, and it sounds like an order.
“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, pulling you back up onto the couch.
Your panties are soon gone, and he spreads your legs open with utmost care. Even if you’re pretty sure he could just slide right in, with how wet you are, he pushes a long finger inside you, then another.
“You’re so wet for me,” he marvels. “So wet, and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself too much yet,” you moan. “There’s still work to be done here.”
His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, taking in your body, now completely naked and offered. Just for him.
“Oh, I’ll do it. Don’t you worry about that.”
You’re about to call him out for his cockiness when he lines his cock with your entrance, tip rubbing against your folds, and you close your mouth instead, wisely choosing not to provoke him when he could so easily make you pay for it by making you wait. Except it seems he’s just as impatient as you, because he pushes himself inside you without pause.
You moan and shift to accommodate the stretch, and Seokjin goes still on top of you.
“Are you okay?” he asks. You’re satisfied with the strain in his voice, like knowing you’re not the only one to be so affected here.
“Hmm,” you hum. “Can you— move? A little?”
He pulls out a little, experimentally, and you moan louder than before. It takes you a few minutes to figure out the pace, as your hips keep moving, desperately searching for more friction, but they’re not unpleasant, filled with kisses, sweet nothings and the feeling of his warm skin against yours. In those moments, you feel like you’re discovering him all over again, and you find yourself enjoying that more than you can say.
Finally, you find yourselves, and the sound of skin against skin fills the room, along with your loud, high-pitches moans, and Seokjin’s — softer, quieter, but definitely there. You meet each of his thrusts, with one hand between the two of you to rub against your clit. When you first clench around him, he finally lets out a moan that’s as loud as yours.
“Fuck, fuck, fffuck,” he says, head falling against you, cheek pressed against your collarbone. “If you— If you do that again I’ll— Wait, please, wait, wanna— wanna cum with you—”
You arch your back, your nipples grazing against his chest, and force up the pace of your hips. Jin is moving incoherently, begging into your neck, and you want to give him exactly what he’s asking for. When you clench around him again, it’s with your orgasm. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge as well, but you barely feel his hips stutter into you, completely taken over by your own pleasure.
It takes you a little while to come back down from your high, and when you do, you meet his eyes. They’re soft and gentle, and, more than anything that’s happened until then, they make you melt.
“Hey,” he whispers, “you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, more than okay, in fact. You?”
“More than okay, too,” he says as a lazy smile spreads across his features.
“Good. That’s good.”
Pillow talk is not your forte.
“Hey,” Jin says, coming to rest his forehead against your shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
You chuckle.
“I think I’m in love with you too.”
“That’s good,” Jin says, but his voice sounds choked up, raspy, and you know he’s probably blushing. So you don’t add anything, just run your fingers over his scalp, the nape of his neck, down his back. Let him know you’re here, that you’ve got him, that you’re not going anywhere.
“Are you— are you staying the night?” he asks.
“Sure, unless you’re kicking me out.”
His arms tighten around you possessively.
“I would never.”
It takes a little longer before Jin manages to get the two of you off the couch to go get cleaned up, and then into bed, but of that night, there is not a second that you would call unnecessary or superfluous. Not one.
Every single one of them, every moment you spend with Jin on that first night, are essential, and you could not pick one of them to take back.
March 14th
The bell chimes happily when you walk into the shop, and even though Jin is busy with another customer, his eyes immediately find you. It’s something simple, yet it’s something you love about him. The way he always seems to find you, and the pleasant warmth that fills you without fail when you see him. You’ve been told that it was just the high of the first months of a relationship, not to get too used to it but you hope that, even if it dims, it won’t go away completely.
“Hey, Jin, your ears are turning really red. Why are your ears turning red?”
You laugh while your boyfriend turns to shoot a furious look at Yoongi. He’s sitting in your spot, in the back of the shop, and he’s looking smug. That comment of his has become a pretty common thing to hear whenever you walk in, or just when Jin and you are speaking. To be completely honest, you’re not too mad about it. Jin is good at acting like you have no effect on him, but the blush betrays him, and it’s been both cute and useful to see what actually gets to him, or bothers him sometimes.
“I’ll kick you out of my shop if you keep that up!” Jin shouts at him. “Don’t think I won’t!”
But Yoongi just chuckles into his mug, clearly not taking him seriously — and he’s probably right for that.
“So, do you know what today is?” Jin asks nonchalantly after he’s turned back to face you, gesturing for Jungkook take over with the other customer.
Your eyes widen in horror.
“Please don’t tell me you want us to celebrate our one month anniversary. I haven’t planned anything for that.”
Jin rolls his eyes.
“I would argue that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow, if we’re being precise, because that’s when we, um, really talked about it.”
He’s not wrong. It had been a pleasant thing, to wake up in his arms the morning after, to the sensation of his lips gently kissing your neck, and an even nicer thing to take your breakfast with him. You couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. It had just been what had absolutely and irrevocably sealed the deal for you. You knew it hadn’t been a mistake. You wanted to be with him.
“Hmm, but there is still some sort of anniversary to be celebrated tonight then,” you say, leaning over the counter. “I’m sure I could prepare something for that.”
His ears and neck flush, and Yoongi has the delicacy of not pointing it out this time.
“That’s not— That’s not what I’m talking about! Today is the white day.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“That’s when boys are supposed to give chocolates back to the girls they like,” Jin elaborates.
“But I didn’t give you chocolates,” you say.
“No, but you’re still the one who— Yoongi, I swear to God— You know. You’re the one who took the first step.”
Despite his recent outburst, it’s obvious that he feels embarrassed and vulnerable in that moment. You’d kind of gathered that he really regretted not asking you out before Sungho had, but you had never thought that it was actually an issue.
“I’m really happy I did,” you tell him quietly. He’s not fond of PDA, but you still allow your fingers to brush against his. That feels discreet enough.
“I know,” he says, and there’s so much love in his eyes when he looks at you that it’s a real miracle that you don’t melt into a puddle right then and there. “But I still—” He sighs. “You’re really ruining my plans. This was meant to go over smoothly.”
“Sorry,” you apologize with a wide grin while he picks something up from behind the counter.
“There,” he mumbles, handing you the box.
You open it, genuinely curious. You feel the eyes of everyone else in the shop — Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook and, of course, Jin — on you, and you want to tell most of them off, but you suppose that since this is where most of your relationship development happened, they’re kind of part of the story too.
The box is filled with chocolates shaped like roses.
“I know it’s not much,” Jin is quick to say, “but I just wanted to—”
“Jin?” you interrupt him.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
His eyes go wide, and then he sighs, but he can’t force away the smile that’s forcefully making its way on his lips.
“Well, if you absolutely have to—”
But he doesn’t protest when you pull him over the counter to kiss him, hands gently closing over your shoulders. He even brings you back for a second, even briefer kiss, and there’s something fierce in his eyes then. He superbly ignores the cheers that come from your friends in the room.
“I have to warn you, you’re never getting rid of me now,” he says, and it’s light-hearted, but you know there’s a lot of truth behind those words.
“Good,” you simply reply. “I wouldn’t want that for the world.”
He looks like he wants to add something to that, but he chokes on the words, and he falls quiet instead. It’s just as good, really.
There are some things you don’t need words for.
Some things that can be expressed just as easily with a box full of rose-shaped chocolates.
#jin x reader#seokjin x reader#bts#bts imagine#kim seokjin x reader#jin imagine#seokjin imagine#jin fluff#seokjin fluff#bts fic#jin fanfic#seokjin fanfic#kim seokjin#jin smut#seokjin smut#candywrites
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
seehowfantastic-blog1
No, no not Brilliant. Impressive!
templegate
a renaissance man.
firepoker-in-ass-blog
Ben Harmons ass
writing-rambles-101
Writing Rambles 101
welovepartying1
My Job I Specialize In Live Video And Photography