#the only reason they are even functioning is because they are faking it till they make it
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Helloooo! Mayor!!!
How's your mental health? Good? Bad? Or meh?
Also because you mentioned that you enjoyed cold treats here is some pear flavored milk ice.
* hands over a ice cooler*
* then processes to summon another huge googily eyed rock towards macaque current location* hehehehe
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#lego monkie kid#lego monkie kid fanart#monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#lmk#lmk fanart#lmk mayor#monkie kid mayor#monkie kid macaque#lmk macaque#blue and violet#Mayor is undermining their mental health#because it is in fact six feet under and is completely destroyed#the only reason they are even functioning is because they are faking it till they make it#but even then they still have bad days where they literally cannot get out of bed#depression sucks and they most certainly have it#it does not even help that their usual habits are being torn to pieces because of their lack of motivation incentive to keep going#but anyways- Macaque is not having a good time either it seems#I like coming up with new ways to keep the googly eyer joke running#it's slowly becoming an eldritch horror LMAO
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(Inspired by these two pics.)
The only reason why they had ended up noticing each other, it was the colours that they had worn. Both in brown jackets - a stark contrast to the black and white the men in the room were wearing. And totally not in sync with the formal black-tie event they were attending.
Why had they shown up like this? It was because each of them had been forced by their own superiors to show up at what they disliked the most. Functions where they had to mingle with people they didn't know and weren't interested in knowing. And having to fake-smile and make meaningless small talk to most who didn't even understand the field of studies they were in. Not to mention that the food they provided, it could barely make your stomach full. Nor the overload of perfumes and cloying scents that make it hard to breathe.
Yohan and Gaon, they would much rather be back home, doing that which brought them the greatest joy.
The former curled up on his sofa, reading and with his pet cat snuggled against him. And the later, digging and watering and fertilising. Taking care of his various assorted plants which were crowding his balcony.
Unfortunately, the two of them had avoided attending such events way too many times. And with the year ending, their respective superiors had put their foot down. Leaving them with no choice but to turn up at the year-end party their university was hosting. The typical 'let's usher in the new year' with lots of drinking and merry-making. And which was their way of thanking their patrons and sponsors for their generous donations which had kept the university going.
But that didn't mean Yohan and Gaon couldn't show their displeasure by disobeying the dress code. Choosing the same colour brown cause both, by sheer coincidence, had the same thought while dressing up.
As brown as poop and like the party pooper they were going to be. Cause they had no intention of showing the slightest enjoyment while they were there. And in fact, had planned to hole up at the most desolate corner they could find till it was appropriate to exit the party.
But their choice of dressing, it had the two of them noticing each other instead. Exchanging secretive smiles which showed they understood the hidden meaning behind their appearance. And the two talking to each other, not noticing the passage of time until the MC was yelling for the countdown to begin.
10!
9!
8!
Gaon, who hadn't been so immersed in someone for so long. And who didn't want the connection he felt for Yohan to end just like that.
He had boldly asked, "Hungry for some ramyeon?"
Staring into Yohan's widened eyes and seeing that spark of interest which had his heart beating so so fast.
4!
3!
2!
Yohan leaning in just as the MC yelled out '1'. Everyone shouting and screaming, all esctatic as the confetti came raining down in shades of gold and pink and glitter. And the noise level reaching a deafening crescendo as they ushered in the new year.
Yohan so close that he was a hair's breath from kissing Gaon.
"My place, then," his low baritone sending shivers down Gaon's spine, "Cause it's nearer."
And Yohan sliding his hand down Gaon's forearm to grab his fingers. Dragging him up and the two slipping out, unnoticed, to spend the first day of the new year together.
#the devil judge#kang yohan x kim gaon#gahan#lawful husbands#yohan x gaon#haven't done this in a while#wanted to post on first day of new year but didnt make it in time#its 2024 but Im still very much in love with yohan x gaon#happy new year everyone
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“For most of my life I have been a “high-functioning” depressive — so high-functioning, in fact, that it will seem implausible to many, even to those who know me fairly well, to learn of my long psychiatric record. But another way of saying “high-functioning” is “high-performance”, which is to say that I have generally been all-too-aware of the Goffmanian performative dimensions of social life, and have mastered my own performance in the same way I mastered my GPA and the various standardized tests I have had to take: propelled forward only by the fuel of anxiety, self-hatred, and certainty of my own fraudulence.
The intake questionnaires have never really captured my subjective experience of “what’s eating me” very well. They ask: “Do you have trouble getting out of bed?” No. “Have you lost your appetite?” I wish. “Are you able to complete your work tasks?” Always. Some diagnosticians, amateur and professional alike, have rushed to DSM-splain to me that I seem to suffer only from “anxiety” and not from “depression”, but this is a meaningless distinction to me, and I don’t see any reason why a manual that in any case is always in the course of revision, and only captures one way of dividing up psychiatric kinds in a certain place and time, should trump the first-person phenomenology of the condition under diagnosis. Anxiety is the opposite of a good feeling; it’s bad. In the end it may be that eudaimonia and kakodaimonia, good and bad “vibes”, are really the only two conditions with any ontological robustness to them. And even these two elementary states shade into one another in ways that make it extremely hard for a lucid observer of his own condition to put feelings into language. Sometimes the condition of the soul gets so bad that it starts to feel like a sort of ecstasy, in which one has circled all the way back around to communion with the good daimon: the horseshoe theory of depression and mental health.
All self-presentation is performance, but to remain hyper-aware of this at all times is handicapping, and leads to a sharp sense of one’s own fraudulence. The watered-down way to speak of this sense, much invoked in online grousing about the stresses of academia, is in terms of “impostor syndrome”, but that doesn’t quite capture the pervasiveness of the feeling. Those who have this syndrome feel out of place in a particular line of work; those who are depressed feel out of place in the world. “Fake it till you make it” is the jocular advice given to people suffering from mild impostor syndrome, and it is implied that this sort of fakery is not just morally tolerable, but laudable. Yet such dishonesty, like “pride”, straddles a boundary between two different and wholly incompatible moral orientations that somehow continue to co-exist in our society. This is the same divide that tells us, in the name of being a morally upstanding person, both to give away our money, and to save it. Bourgeois liberal philosophy will gaslight you into thinking you must simply not be smart enough if you fail to understand how this incommensurability can be smoothed out. But every now and then the voice of a Kierkegaard breaks through, strong enough to make itself heard through the bullshit, to tell us in no uncertain terms that it is impossible to live in this world, that whatever form of life you choose, you will be wrong.
The great comedian Mitch Hedberg, dead of an overdose at thirty-seven, said of addiction that it is a disease, but a weird one: “It’s the only disease people yell at you for having”. Our man is piercing here right into the heart of the incommensurability in question. In the end, if we cannot help but blame others for things that are beyond their control, this may be because wretchedness is our basic condition, as inevitable as it is blameworthy, and only an ideology —such as the one that has reigned throughout modernity— that stresses our earthly perfectibility will place the wretched in the earthly purgatories of rehab clinics and “correctional institutions” and psychiatric outpatient clinics, where in each case the purported goal is to purge the wretchedness right out of a person.
Today we find it easy to mock humoral medicine, such as Robert Burton’s explanation in his Anatomy of Melancholy (1621) of the condition in question as literally a “surfeit of black bile”. But in truth our facile resort today to the idea that depression is nothing more than “a problem with our brain chemistry” is just as worthy of mockery. It marks nothing more thn a shift in the bodily system held responsible for the psychological state, without any clearer understanding of the social and spiritual dimensions of the state. In fact Burton was vastly more sensitive, in his paramedical reflections on the melancholic life, to all the ways such a life is more than just an imbalance of the humors, than your average prescriber of meds today is sensitive to all the ways in which depression is more than just a matter of serotonin reuptake.
(…)
I will try to describe in a few words what it has been like since then. The most striking thing about this new life is that the whole world looks to me somewhat the way our elementary schools look to us when we revisit them as adults: a place we don’t belong anymore, a place that seems so much smaller and so much more modest than we had once taken it to be, so disenchanted that one is left perplexed as to how it could ever have been the source of such wild flights of the hopeful imagination. Life has a quality now that can only be described as “spectral”. I have sometimes imagined that I must have ended up in one of those refrigerated trucks myself, and everything I’ve experienced since then is just me haunting the old sites of my life, as in the Nicole Kidman vehicle The Others (2001) where she believes her home is infested by poltergeists but slowly comes to realize she and her kids are the ghosts, while the “ghosts” that torment her are just regular human beings.
A second feature of this new “mature” manifestation of depression (as opposed to its “juvenile” expressions in California, New York, Ohio) is what the diagnosticians sometimes call “derealization”. I have moments where I just cannot believe that any of this is real. I used to mock Nick Bostrom’s “simulation hypothesis”; now, most of the time, it seems to me intuitively obvious (if still not for the reasons he thinks) that the world is not at all what we take it to be. This shift manifests itself partly in a collapse of the system of values that had previously enabled me to take seriously all the clamoring after social distinctions —all the prizes and acclaim I used to find it meaningful to seek— that keep our institutions running and our little lives full. But more strongly, at certain moments I find myself literally unable to comprehend how I ever could have taken the social bodies that offer the prizes and acclaim, or indeed the opprobrium and rejection, to be in any sense real.
This derealization surely has something to do with the very real historical process of dematerialization: institutions really are disintegrating as they shift to videoconferencing and e-mail as the primary channels of their endurance. What made universities real for some centuries, for example, were in large part their august edifices. These still exist, generally, but they seem increasingly disconnected from whatever it is we still pretend to be doing under the universitarian banner. Anxiety enables me to keep doing my work under this same banner, but I find myself unable to recall how I once accepted it all, unquestioningly, as real. At its most intense, my incomprehension extends not just to social reality (work, recipes, “sport”, popular entertainments, and most of all politics), but to all reality: I can’t make any sense of what the edifices themselves are supposed to be, or clothes, or utensils. Unlike for Bostrom, most of the time the one thing that does not become “glitchy” for me, does not begin to show signs of its simulated character, is nature. But nature loves to hide, as Heraclitus said, and to have it alone as the one thing that appears real, while suitable for isolated contemplation, is hardly sufficient to provide the experience of community that sustains a properly human life.
A third feature of this mature depression is the way it affects my moral character, no matter how much rhetoric is invested in the idea that it’s “just a disease” like any other. I have already described it as a “disease” that has dishonesty as one of its symptoms. Another symptom is that it makes a person —let’s be frank— a real jerk. In my own case I definitely discern a correlation between the occasional remission of feelings of depression, on the one hand, and my capacity for generosity or big-heartedness on the other. Eric Schwitzgebel has provocatively argued that if you are surrounded by fools, you’re probably a jerk. When I am depressed I tend to conclude from his argument, very much against the grain, that I must be a jerk, because everyone around me is definitely a fool. Schwitzgebel of course means to dispel the idea that others are really fools, by “reducing” their foolishness to a mere effect of the perceiver’s “jerkitude”. But depression militates in favor of a “Copernican revolution” in the new field of jerk theory.
(…)
Here is how the foolishness of humanity manifests itself. We have become familiar in the social-media era with the notion of “copypasta”, where people with no real thoughts of their own simply reproduce the language of others, and attempt to pass this off as political engagement, for example regarding the “problematic” character of Disney princesses. But in deep depression, every human utterance sounds like copypasta; everyone sounds as if they are simply channeling the language of others. Proust thus comes to seem a rare and loyal friend to the isolated depressive, when for example his narrator dissects the new phrases and idiosyncracies in the language of Albertine, to discern, in his own internal Académie Française, exactly who she has been seeing since she returned to Paris from Balbec at the end of summer. She thinks she’s just “being herself”, with all that language; he thinks she’s just delivering so much copypasta.
It is terrifying and alienating to apprehend all language in that way, and the easiest reaction is misanthropy. One is wrong, of course, morally wrong, to react in this way, and the Copernican revolution in this case cannot really succeed. It is, as Schwitzgebel claims, jerkitude that gives rise to the appearance of foolishness, and not foolishness that justifies jerkitude. But depression is a strange disease, and we will never be able to adequately deal with it if we pretend it’s just like diabetes or whatever. Depression makes you a jerk. One should not be a jerk. Ergo, if depression is a disease, it is a disease that it is morally wrong to have.
One of the most peculiar expressions I have learned since moving to France is péter un plomb. This means literally “to fart a lead weight”, and so might seem to suggest a meaning similar to the English “to shit a brick”, but in fact describes something closer to failure, or to an irreversible running out of steam, than to the heroic feat of parturition described by the English idiom. Thus for example if you are sitting outside at a café in Paris, and a rough but still handsome beggar comes to your table and, in perfect classical diction, recites a monologue from Molière, you might say after he has moved on: Il a dû péter un plomb. “He must have farted a chunk of lead”. The idea here is that this mendicant thespian clearly used to “be somebody”, but some bug in his internal program caused him at some point to stray from his path and to take up this new lowly position in the world with only faint vestiges of who he once was. High-functioning depressives might do well to adopt as their mantra Samuel Beckett’s famous line: “I can’t go on, I’ll go on”. But if you have farted your chunk of lead in life, you lose the second half, and are left only with this: “I can’t go on”.”
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hey Van. Sooo….I come seeking advice. I am writing a new character in my book. She’s fairly young, eighteen. She’s adopted (her father is the main villain in my story, he’s a evil evil man, a vampire from the medieval ages) she was given to another family at birth for reasons unknown. She’s half human half vampire. Only her vampirism doesn’t activate till another vampire bites her, activating her own venom. She’s got abilities though. She’s a mind reader, can’t go too in-depth with it, especially if it’s a person that she deeply cares about. It’s surface level at most. Her only other power is the power of discernment. She can sense when someone is telling the truth or not. She’s clever, but quiet. She’s a bookworm. Works in the town library. This is where you come in van. I’m a deep admirer of BTL, and all it entails. Especially the writing. There’s a part in the story where she wakes up freaking out because she feels something uncomfortable peeking out of her gums. It’s her fangs. How would you describe vampire attributes in this sense? It’s all new and scary for her. Also her father who I mentioned is evil and only really cares about himself is able to send visions to his children (he has many) but he finds that his daughter abilities is far more powerful. He basically uses her to get the main character who possesses magnificent power. His daughter and the main character are best friends. It’s a very deep betrayal. My questions are when you describe vampirism in your story it seems so natural, any tips for that? And how would you tackle a relationship between a estranged love seeking daughter and a unemotional unattached faking father? Owe you big Van.
hiyaa! Sounds very interesting!!
Keep in mind, this is how I describe vampires in my silly little head 🤪
How would you describe vampire attributes in this sense?
there's a lot of things I think i'd consider about vampirism like: fangs, thirst, sensitivities, etc especially for a half-vampire.
I imagine this is very disorientating for her. I think you need to decide if this activation induces a violent reaction or not.
I picture the fangs forming to be uncomfortable, maybe painful
maybe suddenly more sensitive to the sunlight. Her eyes hurt. (what happens in the sun?)
the thirst for blood, burning in her throat.
Maybe she's so disoriented, she stumbles, knocking over furniture but she's suddenly strong, she breaks something.
heightened emotions?
Does she see her own reflection and she looks slightly different now
My questions are when you describe vampirism in your story it seems so natural, any tips for that?
i think it appears natural because I make the vampires in my story more human.
Blood still pumps in their body along with venom and as long as blood pumps, they can still do human functions even if they don't have to.
you have to come up with a lot of lore for however you're building your vampires
how does their venom work? their blood intake? aging/immortality, the change, powers. Really, whatever you come up with, just ask yourself 'why is it like that?' and you can figure out more lore that way.
also how do they conteract certrain traits so they can survive in the world.
how would you tackle a relationship between a estranged love seeking daughter and a unemotional unattached faking father?
i mean, i think this is also more of a why question. Why are they emotionally estranged. Why is her father the way he is?
It sounds like she still loves him and wants him to love her, so I would describe that she tries to be the perfect daughter, or a daughter she thinks he will approve of.
I imagine her attempts to get closer to him/show her accomplishments are usually shot down or his responses is cold/icy.
Then he obviously needs to change his behaviour if he wants to use her.
So, how does he show that? Does he spend more time with her?
Does he give her praises? Give her gifts, etc
This might be easier to demonstrate interaction to interaction, analyzing what kind of behaviour would show per interaction rather than trying to categorize everything now.
hope this helps~
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it would feel so silly if it wasn't so frustrating and like. kinda life ruining lol. i spent years taking care of myself and everyone around me and now that i don't solely bear the responsibility of making sure me and four others can even keep a roof over our heads next month im like haha actually i can't do anything anymore. can't. can't keep my room clean. can't go grocery shopping. can't cook anymore. can't draw. can't write. can't do all the things i would do regularly when i was in. well. hell. now that im the only person i need to care for and the people around me treat me like a human it's like those tasks have all become ten million times harder and i don't get it i was doing so much before when everything was so much worse for me and now it's like i just have absolutely nothing to give not even to myself. the idea of taking out my drawing tablet is just so insurmountable. every word i try put down is the wrong one. what's the point in grabbing that shirt off the floor, im just gonna toss another one there tomorrow. how am i supposed to have something in the house to make and then make it and then eat it every day when rotting in bed and starving is just so, so much easier. ive lost so much weight. every time my belt gets a notch tighter i grimace with a sick sort of disgusted pride. im a bystander watching myself kill me and refusing to step in to help. i shouldn't need a babysitter, making sure im fed and getting enough sleep. i know how to take care of myself! ive fucking done this before!! for years!!! i just need to get these fucking worms out of my goddamn head. they're eating the competent, functioning parts of my brain and leaving just the inept, the incapable, the fucking stupid parts. the parts that refuse to ask for or accept help. the parts that leave me paralyzed by [???] i truly don't even know what. the parts that refuse any ounce of human connection because what if it burns me to the same degree it always has, it took me touching that hot pan for years to learn to take my hands off but even now that there is no flame or heat im still too timid to even sit in the same room as it. it leaves me with such a vast aching loneliness that i am the only person that can pull myself out of but i can't and won't because it's just so fucking hard when you've never had even a single person stick around for more than, like, literally three years. they always, always leave. you'll leave too. so i guess id rather pretend i am fine like this because fake it till you make it, right? maybe if i say im choosing this to get better i can convince myself of that. and it's definitely not just a new form of self harm, the intentionally isolating and refusing to let anyone in because god forbid they see how im actually doing. the horror of someone seeing me as anything but perfectly presentable when needed, perfectly put away-able when you're done. the idea that i might have needs or wants or desires. even i don't want to hear that shit. who the fuck would. maybe if i am quiet and good at keeping it behind closed doors people will stop leaving so soon. i am just so fucking frustrated with myself. i don't know what is so wrong with me that causes everyone to run, even my own family. i don't know why i watch myself self-sabotage every day and beg and plead with myself to stop! fucking doing that!! but i just won't for some reason!!! i don't know what's fucking wrong with me why can't i just act fucking normal!!!!!!!
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i wonder if the person i dated who had anger issues and many other issues that rlly hurt me, that he has them? like i wonder if he truly realises what he did. he said he did but i feel like it had a lasting effect on me in a way that he will never understand. is one of the things i think about at 4am when i’m scrambling to finish an assignment. kind of a sad state of mind this thought put me in. so much hurt. and then it’s over. i thought i’d feel free er than i do. but i keep carrying around this damage along with heaps of other damage. if i leave it for a while it catches up with me and screams at me till i pick it up again. sometimes i forget about it all. but more often than not i’m consumed by the thoughts of how it would’ve been if these things hadn’t happened. how nice it’d have been to not have been broken down so many times throughout such a relatively short life so far, compared to like most people. by most people i mean most people now, not like most people in the history of the universe who never lived past their childhood, let alone their twenties. i guess i’m lucky in that way? i don’t feel lucky in that way though. i do feel lucky in some other ways. and i feel unlucky in some other ways. such a long winded way of communicating something so dull? common? obvious? are my feelings less meaningful because they’ve been felt by everyone? why do my feelings even need to be meaningful and substantial? like they’re just feelings, just feel them and shut up. and besides i have to do something completely insane and probably sexually deviant, in order to feel a feeling that is even remotely original. what a strange time to live in. to be born now and not before the meteor hit, or before this planet had an atmosphere, or even before it had water, even before protons and neutrons, maybe even never, or later. why me? why do i think? sometimes i wonder if i’m truman from like the show. when people look at me on the tram. what if i’m living in a simulation? i can see why people believe in these conspiracy theories. probably similar to whatever reason leads people to believe in a higher power and religion and what not. i believe in a higher power. but i also feel stupid for it. i think i’m an absolute idiot most of the time. especially like right now. i don’t understand most things.
i have the weirdest of dreams. i wish i could live in them. it’s not like reality is unbearable. it’s just that the characters in my dreams are fun and we do things, like go on adventures. nothing truly remarkable happens in my actual life. in reality, things go wrong, things go right and the way i survive is by not making a big deal out of anything. just get through the day. and keep doing my tasks. but in my dreams, i just, have a lot of fun. like actual fun. not like me convincing myself i’m having fun and trying to romanticise my life. it’s like actually magical and romantic. not romantic like love but romantic like amazing and beautiful.
oh about the pile of garbage in my room, specifically the one on my bed is getting so massive, it’s like thrice my size and i’m starting to get scared that it will 1) smother me in my sleep by falling like an avalanche or 2) will turn into a giant living fermenting sentient garbage creature. in my head both of these situations are extremely likely. i’m not too bothered, just a little scared. but i accept my fate, no matter what happens. i used to think something died in there. but like what? i don’t know. my imagination runs wild sometimes. or maybe it’s all real. i can’t help but feel like it’s all real. sometimes i feel like i’m going crazy, not in a manic way, but like a slow descent into madness that exists only within my mind. i function mostly like a normal person. whatever normal means. who is normal even.
sometimes i think that i’m never really actually having any fun, i just try to fake it. i feel like i tell myself that oh this is a nice scenery i’m supposed to feel emotional and maybe peaceful or happy. i guess i try to feel what i’m supposed to feel. what do i even feel. i definitely feel scared. and i definitely feel worried. i definitely feel sad. and like there is a lump somewhere halfway between my throat and my chest. i feel bothered. i feel the lack of peace. i feel relieved that things aren’t as bad as they could’ve been or used to be. but that’s not like a good relief. i just feel grief for everything that happened before. even though it’s over, it all still makes me sad. i think i need a funeral. for something. i guess that’s a way of trying to get closure. which is not real. sometimes i feel like my head will explode. sometimes i feel like my body will melt like plastic, not ice cream. be hard and sticky and burnt and uneven and chemical-y and odorous. toxic fumes and bubbling fat. i worry that all my skin will turn to crusty scales. halfway there already. i’m waiting to go bald. in a way, i waiting for death. but i’m also waiting for the worst. there’s so much that’s worse than death. like most things. i just wanna get it all o er with, rip every bandaid, break every bone, pull out every tooth and hair, pick at every scab until there is nothing left. i want to find the self destruct button. but i can’t. i have to live through this slow burn of a psychological thriller.
it’s all me me me i think i feel i can i can’t i want i need i i i i me me me me it’s all i think of all i write about all i am just me, and myself only
i used to have violent fantasies of hurting my mother as a child. i never acted on anything obviously. wait no one time i dipped her toothbrush in the toilet and put it back. and her husband’s toothbrush as well. they deserved much worse. but i’m too good to do any actual harm. never told em obviously. probably the worst thing i’ve done in life. on purpose. i had to. i don’t rlly regret it. she used to beat me and hurt me so much and gave very graphic violent threats, such as saying she’ll rip the skin off my back. oh and the time she beat me with a pipe on my legs and left bruises that lasted 3 years. slapped me leaving five finger marks on my face and back. kicked me while i was sobbing on the floor. so strange that my father wasn’t that much better, throwing chairs at me, kicking my food, i guess they were a good match? maybe it didn’t work because opposites attract and likes repel? i think about all this often, but honestly it’s not the physical abuse that hurt, the emotional torture was so much worse. and i remember it all. well obviously not all. but i remember a lot. i wish i didn’t. vivid memories. two crazy losers boinked hehe and an even crazier creature was born (it’s me). i have a sibling but i feel like an only child. i have parents but i feel like an only child, like only myself, a child, and nobody else. my sibling is great though. couldn’t have survived without daisu. or maybe i could have. who cares. i have daisu.
i’ve always dreamed of sharing all my feelings and life stories with someone who’d understand the depth of it all, and take care of me forever and not hurt me or leave me or abuse me. someone who would love me. like actually love me. but such a person doesn’t exist. and i am never ever ever going to try to find love again. i have no business doing romance. it’s like poison for me. it’s like self harming.. it’s like the worst form of self harm. hoping to be loved.
listening to this song tonight. so many people.
days go by, i’ll never know, i’ll never have words to explain what is going on
i’ll be fine though. i always am. but at what cost.
my head hurts, probably from the screen-time. turns out i spend over 16 hours on just my phone daily. oh i just found out it’s twice as much as the average which is already considered a lot. huh. fun.
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This Summer
Guess who’s back with another yoongi fic featuring my favourite trope so here’s another brother’s best friend au, I wanted to try a different setting for this one since I like summer camp aus a lot (and there’s not enough of it on this site I tell you) and I never did something similar to this also I’m sorry that there will be mistakes in here because I wrote this in three days but I’ll proofread it once I have the energy.
🏕️Title: ‹This Summer›
🏕️Pairing: ‹brother’s best friend and camp counsellor! yoongi x new camp counsellor! reader ft. brother and camp counsellor! hoseok›
🏕️Genre: ‹brother’s best friend, summer camp, camp counsellor, romance, fluff, angst, smut, idiots to lovers›
🏕️Summary: ‹This summer you’re going to stop liking min yoongi for good. The plan is flawless until it’s not (but you’re not the only one with plans.)›
🏕️Warnings: ‹smut, making out, oral (both parties) receiving, penetrative sex, condom sex, dirty talk, yoongi is jealous of jungkook having your boobs against his chest, y/n avoids yoongi like it’s her life mission for like 5k straight, a lot of angst but there will be fluff too so don’t worry, awkward tension, sexual tension, clueless hobi, everyone is stupid in this, jungkook likes meddling with y/n’s life a little bit too much, poor tae facing yoongi’s wrath without any reason lol›
🏕️Word count: ‹12.3k›
🏕️Masterlist l read radio sweethearts if you want another brother's best friend yoongi l enjoy!
Your brother is a ticking time bomb, no one knows when he’s going to take something into his head, he’s that annoying sibling that’s always full of energy and twists everyone around his pinky finger on family dinners. You love him with your whole heart, considering you ripped that mean girl’s hair out in elementary school when she called your baby brother (who is older than you but shh) ugly and made him cry.
Hoseok and you are polar opposites he’s cheery and positive always have a big smile on his face, ready to help all the old ladies with heavy shopping bags cross the street while you’re on the quiet side and often misunderstood.
It’s easy to see on holiday dinners and get-togethers that your relatives favour him over you because you’re less talkative and friendly, he has better achievements in life whilst you struggle with school but those you’re close with know the real you and awkward conversations about your nonexistent boyfriend because you’re so deeply in love with your brother’s best friend is not the best ice breaker your distant grandmas try to pull on you. Even so, when Yoongi decides to tag along to those said dinners accompanied by his parents and little sister, might just hell break loose.
The second man who basically acts like he lives in your house is your best friend slash knight in shining armour and partner in crime; simply named Jeon Jungkook for good measure who is your next-door neighbour. You have tons of unforgettable memories with him as he was the one you went to prom with, annoyed all the teachers on field trips with your loud rap battles and cried on each other's shoulders as you graduated high school together.
Your friendship with him came as a surprise to all your family members as they originally thought your brother and him will become close but instead, he spent most of his time with you while yoongi and hoseok with their other friends hang out separately. On rare occasions, your group would mix and go to see a popular movie or play games at the arcade on someone’s birthday.
Summer usually is the time when things are a little slow. No assignments to do or classes to attend, your brother leaves in early July for this summer camp that’s half a day far away from your home with his friends and the last two summers even Jungkook applied to be a camp counsellor as he likes to be surrounded by kids and nature just like your brother does so literally, everyone left for some time leaving you alone in your hometown with nothing to do but it was better this way because away from Hoseok meant that Yoongi will be far away too.
Your brother tries to persuade you every year to go with them but you always have to decline, sometimes your no is firmer than other times because Hoseok is excellent at using his puppy eyes on you.
However, this summer you had other plans. There’s no bell to ring once the last class is dismissed for the semester, tired from your finals you’re going to dedicate at least a week to catch up on your sleep and fix your eating habits but you have a big smile on your face as you climb into Jungkook’s run-down Ford slamming the car door behind your body since they don’t function properly sometimes. This car is his prized possession, got it for his 18th birthday after he successfully passed his test (at the forth try) and bragged about his driving license to you for over two weeks although you only dared to sit next to him after two months. Jungkook named his car Adonis and forbid you of disrespecting his little baby if you want to ever get a lift so you let him be.
Back to your important inner turmoil, you decided you will no longer simp over Min Yoongi your brother’s best friend and this summer you’ll get over him as a grown-up woman. Being in your second year at the local University that all the boys attend it’s surprisingly easy to avoid your brother and his friends and how everyone’s schedule seems to be so packed all the time during the semester, you don’t see them as much as you used to in high school.
”This was your last final, right?” Jungkook turns the ignition key ready to leave this hellhole of a place, holding your headrest with one hand as he turns to see the back of the car so he can back out of the parking lot without any accidents. You grab the smoothie from the cup holder before humming in agreement and take a sip whilst taking in your best friend’s features you haven’t seen for the past week.
”As soon as I get home I’m going to sleep till the next century.” Your dramatic response earns a chuckle and a jab to your left boob as he didn’t take his eyes off the road while delivering his hit. Jungkook wears his signature white tee with a pair of dark blue jeans no traces are left of the stress both of you went under, he was luckier than you as his finals ended a week ago.
”School sucks, we couldn’t even have fun together and I’m leaving next week. I’m going to miss you, you know. You really won’t come with us?” He tried to make you rethink your decision just like your brother but not even his bambi eyes can waver your summer plans, this time you fully intend to have one more Min Yoongiless summer, this silly crush you have on your brother’s best friend can’t continue.
”There’s always one place left for you at the camp Y/N. Hoseok would love to see you there too and we could spend so much time together.” The idea of spending a few weeks with Jungkook sounds nice but a voice in your head reminds you that Yoongi will be there too. He could be yelling at children and wear his trademark grumpy expression but you would still find something attractive about him. The worst part is that he’s never like that with you.
Yoongi is not as talkative as Jungkook or Hoseok, making him be more like you, at first you thought that your crush developed because he seemed to understand you in a different way your brother couldn’t. He cares for his friends, always making sure to show them by doing thoughtful gestures.
Hoseok tells his friends all the time that you and him are a package deal it’s either both of you or none of you, sometimes people have a problem with that but these five boys he hangs out with for years now are the good exception. You like them even though you don’t like all of Hoseok’s friends.
”I’m sorry Koo but I can’t, we talked about this before.” It’s not like you hate children because you don’t you’re not the best with them but they are ok, the heatwave is what you despise in summer camps. You love being in an air-conditioned place without bug bites all-around your ankles and not even the campfire with yummy marshmallows could persuade you to like outdoor activities.
Summer camps are just not your thing.
”What do you mean you signed me up?” The black t-shirt slips through your fingertips, it has a band logo at the front you remember Hoseok liked back in high school, his suitcase is halfway filled with clothes when he decided to tell you he faked your signature to sign you up as the new summer camp counsellor.
You admit that you have a weird talent for making nice origamis that kids would probably love to learn and a good addition to the routine activities, he would have swayed you with compliments if it weren’t for the fact that he faked your signature and signed you up for something you definitely said no to but still decided to do it without your permission. You heard nice things about the camp itself since it got renovated two years ago and Hoseok’s friends are nice people, he said their co-workers are nice people and your best friend would be there too, don’t get the wrong impression there, you even heard that the camp leader Seokjin is nice and a fun person not strict at all unless it concerns the kid's safety because he will not allow that.
”Don’t be mad, please. Jungkook and I just thought that this could be a fun experience for you, things will get busy next year so it’s going to be the last summer together like this. Pretty please?”
You sighed defeatedly as you can’t possibly say no to that when he phrases it like that. Hoseok looks at you with his round big eyes full of hope. Your summer plan was flawless until…it’s not.
Jungkook came almost knocking down your front door when you called him to come over after you were finally done helping Hoseok finish packing for the trip, you scolded your best friend for not stopping your brother as soon as he learned his scheme about ruining your summer plans you felt furious but he picked up on his way over to your house your favourite coffee flavoured candies and it made you forgive him too easily as you were soon munching on the treat.
It’s a huge disadvantage on your part that he knows your preferences so well. Now you can understand why he always seems so frustrated with you when you make him his favourite dish to get him to forgive you, this is just too much power to have over someone and when he crushes you with his tight hug listing out the things the two of you can do at the camp all of your remaining anger vanishes.
You will think about Min Yoongi later.
That later, however, comes sooner than you anticipated. Sitting on the kitchen stool drinking your coffee while all Hoseok’s noisy friends get a fill of breakfast and a cup of coffee, you have the unfortunate fate of housing all the boys to dine before getting on the road and after a lost rock, paper, scissors thanks to your brother’s ridiculous bad luck you become the host.
The kitchen got filled with animated chit-chats as they place a toast or two on their plates over the noises you almost don’t hear Jungkook next to you asking for the jam but you pass him the jar silently. Yoongi and Jimin are the only ones missing from the group because Yoongi has to drive Jimin to his parent’s place to pick up his car that he got repaired recently so they were running a bit late.
Namjoon is a new addition to the group after Hoseok met him in Uni so you don’t know him that well but he’s nice as far as you’re concerned, you talked to him a few times and his interesting topics never fail to entertain you. Jin steals a toast from Namjoon’s plate so he doesn’t need to get up and fetch one for himself but Namjoon looks too tired to care as he munches on his remaining one toast that his friend can’t steal because it’s halfway in his mouth.
Seokjin’s parents run the bakery on the main road so everyone knows him, he got introduced to the friend group when you were still in high school and you and Jungkook were regulars at the shop. Jin always sneaked a pair of baguettes for the two of you exclusively after you were finished with school.
It’s nice to see all these familiar faces after the stressful semester you had, momentarily forgetting about your problems you feel thankful that Hoseok went out of his way to ruin your plans and sign you up for this train wreck of an adventure, it’s been a while since everyone was together like this.
The doorbell rang interrupting Jungkook and Seokjin’s argument about who’s going to get the last toast piece but Hoseok perked up at the sound yelling excitedly that Yoongi and Jimin are here. Your brother quickens his pace after rising from his seat to open the door for them and grins when they step through the threshold.
Greetings are exchanged between friends and the place becomes livelier as the last pieces decide to join the puzzle, Jimin sees you first and knocks into Jungkook’s shoulder while he tries to get to you to give you a warm hug.
It’s been a while since you last saw Yoongi face to face, you’re added to the boy's group chat so in some depth you knew how he’s doing. He has been over at your house a few times hanging out with Hoseok but you always stayed late inside the library on the days he visited using the weak excuse that you need to catch up on school work so you had no chance of crossing paths with him coincidently while you were searching for a glass of water in the kitchen it’s humiliating enough that he saw you exit your bathroom wearing only a towel when you were a teenager.
Your curves became more defined and your body matured a lot over the years and knowing that he saw you like that when you had no ass or boobs. It’s embarrassing. Hoseok liked you that way because it meant no man would thirst over you as he liked to call it. The memory of him telling the boys that you’re off-limits and made them swear at the ’bro code’ to stay away from you is crystal clear in your mind even if now you are in your twenties.
The memory only makes your situation difficult as Yoongi probably doesn’t feel the same way.
As soon as Jimin steps back and releases you from the hug he has Jungkook in a headlock the next second, wrestling with the younger playfully, Jungkook is probably the closest to Jimin after you.
”Hey, it’s nice to see you.”
Yoongi has a half-smile on his face as he approaches you hesitantly pulling you into a hug like Jimin did but his approach is more gentle and careful as he pats your back with featherlight touches. His scent envelops your senses tuning out everything else that’s not him, it feels like forever that you hugged him, normally the two of you greet each other but rarely hug like this.
”Yeah, you too.” You murmur the words into his shoulder but he must have heard you because the side of his lips turned slightly upwards after you separate.
There are two cars available for the eight of you and Seokjin yells that it’s a matter of a game of rock, paper, scissors and everyone agrees as this is the common way your group chose who is riding with who.
”Easy, the losers ride with Jimin and the winners with Yoongs.” Jungkook is the first one to initiate the rules and everyone agrees except Jimin who whines about why he takes the losers but no one pays attention as the bloody battle starts. The first contestants are Namjoon and Hoseok and your brother ends up loosing while yelling like a banshee and making up excuses that he wanted to show rock and not paper as Namjoon choose scissors as his weapon.
You come up next with Jungkook as your opponent and you let a wicked smile appear on your face because no one knows him better than you, you know his move before he even thinks it through and you show paper getting your well-deserved victory.
Just later you realise that winners ride with Yoongi that you reconsider your decision, you were so caught up in your rivalry that’s your friendship’s base foundation with Jungkook at this point that it slipped your mind entirely.
Taehyung and Jin are the last ones to compete and the battle ends with Taehyung winning the last space in Yoongi’s car leaving Seokjin to dramatically kneel like a wounded soldier making fake sobbing noises. Taehyung ends up changing seats with Jungkook last moment and finally, everything is set to get going.
Jungkook and Namjoon take over the backseat as they loaded their luggage at lightning speed so they can claim their spot first leaving you with the only option to have the passenger seat at the front.
Yoongi obviously got behind the steering wheel entrusted with the task of operating the car throughout this long drive to the summer camp sight. Taehyung, Jin and Hoseok got into Jimin’s car like it was decided by the game.
The camp is bigger than you expected and the renovations got the place a little modern touch to it while still maintaining a close feel to nature with all the wooden houses and trees around but your favourite part is the lake at the far end of the campsite.
You share a room with a girl counsellor that spends her second year here, still, relatively new like yourself so it’s easy to befriend her. The campers will arrive the next day early in the morning Areum informs you as you two walk to the dining area to have the first meeting before everything starts.
By the end of the day, everyone knows you’re Hoseok’s little sister and new people approach you every now and then to confirm the facts and know a little bit more about you since everyone seems to like your noisy brother here (not that it surprises you), it looks like the counsellors are excited to start a new summer here and the atmosphere easily pulls you in, you watch Jimin and Jungkook have a water fight just to catch in the corner of your eye the figure of your brother pushing an unsuspecting Seokjin into the lake when he stands too close to the edge.
The day goes by like a flash as you hang out with Areum, she shows you her favourite places that consists of the greenhouse and the other side of the lake where there are built benches and tables for outdoor picnics.
Jungkook pouts during dinner fake crying that you replaced him and you have to forcefully spoon feed him to stop him from embarrassing you in front of all these unfamiliar people that gathered to have some quiet dinner. So everything goes smoothly, you have such a great time that it scares you.
It’s getting pretty late when all counsellors gather around the campfire to roast marshmallows and catch up with each other’s lives, you’re still new so you use this time to get to know Areum a little bit more since you and her are going to be responsible for entertaining the kids inside the art room alongside with Taehyung who teaches the kids how to paint.
You tell her about your silly hobby that landed you this job and she gets really excited to see your origami creations, you show the same enthusiasm when she reveals her major is classical statuary.
Even though Yoongi was always nearby it got easy to ignore his existence when so many new things surrounded you. It didn’t mean he fully left your thoughts throughout the day but made you feel that sense of false security that you could get over him. That all those years of pinning for your brother’s best friend could just vanish if you told your heart to stop skipping beats when he calls your name. Boose soon gets introduced to the mix and by the time midnight rolls around everyone is pleasantly buzzed and when Jungkook enters the state that he hangs off of you like a koala nuzzling his cheek into the crook of your neck you decided to call it a night.
You wake up with your head thumping inside your skull slightly feeling hangover; your roommate is in a similar state as you two approach the dining room getting small slices of bread to make a light sandwich.
You’re mid-bite into your food when you see Yoongi enter, walking alongside with your brother he catches your gaze sooner than you were able to look away and after they get their fills on their trays your loud brother flops down next to you with the loudest greeting that he could possibly muster up alerting everyone in the ten-metre radius.
Yoongi and you groan at the same time telling him to shut up like it’s a scripted response and your eyes meet for the barest of seconds before you focus on your half-eaten sandwich.
It’s hard not to look at him. Despite his gruff exterior, he’s very good at dealing with children, your activity where kids can learn how to fold origami is always after his cookie baking lesson and he smells like rough cookie dough and chocolate ship when he leads the kids into the art room where you would have all the coloured papers ready at each desk and folded a sample beforehand so they can use it as a reference if the instructions don’t look clear enough in the printed page.
The idea for this lesson formed last night, you were up all night as you researched on the internet how to fold hearts. It kept you up till the sun rose as you were trying out every folding technique that would look pretty but easier to do for the kids, you even accidentally cut your finger with the scissor while you were working using only the faint light from the lamp on the bedside table.
Yoongi greets you like he usually would wearing a little smile at the corners as he lets the kids inside first holding the door open for them, he always leaves silently after he delivered the campers to the art room but this time the door slides closed behind his form as he got dragged into the room by a kid named Minsung holding onto Yoongi’s hand he stood awkwardly while everyone else had a decided seat to take.
”Can Yoongi join us today Y/N?” Minsung asks holding Yoongi’s hand as he leads him further into the art room and every kid looks expectantly at you waiting for you to agree and seeing their faces you nod with a smile pulling out the chair next to you beckoning the embarrassed man to sit beside you.
He didn’t think you would say yes if he’s being honest. After you finished high school and he and Hoseok went to University and got busy with life he started to see you less and less, at first he didn’t think much of it but after some time it looked like that you’re actively avoiding him.
He has no idea why (that’s what eats him from the inside out on sleepless nights) he doesn’t remember saying or doing something that would make you upset and even now when you keep bumping into each other you seem skittish around him and he doesn’t like that, hence he even talked to Hoseok about this and your own brother couldn’t give him an answer why you started avoiding him.
”Do you know how to fold origami?” You ask him slipping papers in front of him as soon as he seats himself beside you, your heart beats inside your chest violently when you get enveloped in his scent yet again reminding you of the hug you shared that you’re afraid he’s going to hear it.
”I barely know how to fold my clothes.” The nervous joke lightens the mood as the kids laugh loudly the poor attempt at making you be more comfortable with him earns a little snort that makes a blush creep up your face rapidly in embarrassment but Yoongi thinks you sound adorable. You think you sounded like a troll.
”It’s fine I’ll help you.” Your little smile is still there even though your eyes are no longer on Yoongi as you focus on the kids, you tell them first what they will make and then go into detail how they can fold it while using the instructions and clearing some of the confusing images for them to understand it better. Lastly, you encourage them to not be afraid to ask if they have questions and you’ll gladly help them. It falls silent after as everyone gets absorbed in their work and you start making extra origamis for the children as usual until someone needs help.
Yoongi looks intent on finding out using the illustrations how to proceed and even though your instructions were pretty clear and well detailed he couldn’t figure out how to do it, he wastes two papers before he even got to the third step.
You see him struggling and he clearly gets worked up over it considering the number of creases appearing on his forehead once you get back to your desk after helping a kid figure out the instructions you move your chair closer getting his attention with the movement, your knees touch in the process but neither of you makes any moves to instal more distance between your bodies.
”Can I show you?” You reach for the scrambled paper but stop midway to look up and ask for permission.
Yoongi nods his head sliding the mess closer to you, observing as you unfold the paper and restart making more accurate lines and you immediately see what’s wrong with his shape. His measurements are off, even when he folded the paper in half that seemed uneven because he tried to fold it in one go and the paper sometimes moves around if you’re not careful enough.
After you fixed it and slid the paper to be in front of him you tell him your advice in a soft-spoken way. Heart still hammering inside your chest due to the closeness you share. ”Don’t rush through the steps, take your time while you fold it.” Your fingers touch briefly when you pass him the paper and you resume your working so it would take away from the embarrassment of how loud your heart beats because of him.
He looks so good today wearing a black oversized t-shirt with small prints in the front and even when his hair is damp with sweat his smile is able to melt your resolves any time you gaze up at those dark eyes.
Kids can be very attentive and they easily see how Y/N looks so smitten with Yoongi if those stolen sideway glances are anything to go by, every time he shows up you became a nervous ball of a mess it’s not rocket science to know you have a huge crush on the boy, the only mystery that campers can’t figure out is why you tiptoe around each other when Yoongi doesn’t seem indifferent either.
They often catch him looking at you as they run around the campsite during leisure activities led by Hoseok.
Minsung and Soohyung share a knowing smile as they watch them fold origami and it’s not overlooked by either of them when you focus back to do your work and Yoongi takes glances in your direction mesmerized by you, the task seems easy when he watches you do it.
A knock is followed by the appearance of your camp leader Seokjin leaning onto the doorframe interrupting your little bubble, looking at the kids with a fond expression before he addresses Yoongi and they leave together to discuss something, the activity is almost over as you learn glancing at the clock and Jungkook soon appears where Jin was a little while ago to get the kids.
Jungkook and your brother are the ones responsible for the outdoor activities and at the end of the day not only the kids are tired but their counsellors too by constantly running around to ensure everyone's safety.
Yoongi wanted to talk to you and help you clean up, have a real conversation in private, but things never turn out as he wants them to there seems to be always an obstacle standing between you two so he follows Jin to discuss a camp-related issue while he wishes he could spend a little more time with you.
If only you would tell him what he did wrong so he can fix it, this awkward state you two got stuck in makes him sad for some reason.
There was a time when you were greeting him with a big smile on your face and ask him about his day, he vividly remembers your chubbier cheeks and crooked teeth when you were younger but he doesn’t mind your feminine growth over the years, Yoongi always thought you will grow up to be a beautiful woman.
He remembers your prom dress, it was in a navy blue colour that complimented your fuller curves he only started to notice in your last year in high school, Jungkook posed beside you like you were Mr and Mrs Smith as your parents took pictures of you two and he found himself smiling fondly at you.
It was Hoseok’s birthday when the air shifted from platonic to something else in the short span of ten seconds, both of you were a little tipsy and you were sitting at a corner table together because neither of you wanted to hit the dance floor, the bar was packed and guys tried to hit on you numerous times just to be chased away by your brother’s antics.
You didn’t seem to mind that he prevented every guy from making a move on you and as you were all alone in a small booth chest to chest to hear each other over the loud music while you tried to tell him a story about Jungkook choking on fries at Mcdonalds when the waitress suddenly slipped her number scribbled onto a napkin trying not to ugly laugh yourself. His nose accidentally bumped into yours as he suppressed a laugh and if the others didn’t choose that exact moment to take a breather and have more drinks he thinks he would have probably kissed you right then and there.
The other time he felt something different while he was around you was when you and his friends took a trip to Busan to see the sea and you wore that one piece bikini, the bottom and top half were connected by a line of fabric but let your sides and hips be visible under the little clothing you had on.
Guys turned their heads when you passed them and he couldn’t even blame them like Hoseok because he looked at you a few times as well trying to seem as subtle as he possibly can since Hoseok otherwise would have killed him knowing that his best friend was ogling at his little sister.
”Don’t you dare!” Your yelling draws the attention of the kids and counsellors equally that’s how loud you are as your best friend approaches your form sitting under the umbrella trying to cool yourself down since today’s temperate is insanely (and unreasonably) hot. ”When we get home I’ll draw all your action figures a moustache using permanent markers. I’m not joking stop right there!”
Your horrific expression is validated since Jungkook has this shit-eating grin on his face when he’s about to do something you’ll most definitely not like, knowing him from your early stage of childhood when he was just a lanky anime fanatic and you were flat like a wooden board with huge pimples you’re an expert at distinguishing his different expressions and actions.
”You’re cute to think that will stop me.” Jungkook chuckles grabbing you by the waist as he drapes you over his shoulder effortlessly walking with you to the edge of the lake despite your efforts to break free from his grip, your friend jumps into the water with you still firmly clinging onto his body. The kids around you laugh at your friendly banter as you rise from the water like a lake monster and you duck Jungkook’s head underwater to make him pay for your ruined clothes and makeup.
Coming to help you, Jimin manoeuvres his boat next to you and stretches his hand out followed by a big grin to drag you out of the lake but it appears to be more difficult as you two almost flip over but you manage to unceremonially flop down next to him dragging your fingers through your hair to get the hairs out of your face.
”You really want war, Jeon. Just you wait but don’t blame me if I shave your hair off while you’re sleeping.” Coughing between your threatening words Jimin starts patting your back, rubbing your spine to help you feel better.
Jimin oars closer to the dock and you land your feet on the ground again without any more incidents occurring while Jungkook swims all the way, making comments about your appearance making the campers giggle alongside with him as your face gets warmer, once both of you are secure on land Jungkook hugs you close despite your distaste, your clothes cling to your body uncomfortably and droplets from his hair land on your cheek as he moulds your bodies together.
”Let me go, I’m not talking to you.” You try to push him away but instead of letting you go he scoops you up from the ground and spins you around, begging for your forgiveness but you don’t give in so easily.
Yoongi observes the scenes before him with a sour expression, he doesn’t even realise how he glares at Jungkook holding you that close to him while both of you are dripping of lake water, your boobs are entirely pushed against his chest as your best friend giggles midst of you struggling to break free.
Next to him Hoseok sits relaxed in his chair sipping his cold drink, shaking his head in faux amusement happy to see you have a good time here, your brother is normally very protective of you when it comes to guys but with Jungkook he knows that you guys are just best friends it’s hard to see you two otherwise when he witnessed your first period crying onto Jungkook’s shoulder that you’re going to bleed out and your poor friend almost dragged you to the hospital because he thought you were being real but soon learned that you overdramatise things when it’s that time of the month.
He often finds you in a weird position while you watch tv with Jungkook’s head on your tummy because the pressure and warmth of his head make the pain more bearable cuddling under blankets because you get needy when you’re on your period, your brother knows all of this because when your best friend is unavailable he has to fill the space and lay his head on your stomach until the feeling goes away.
He had his doubts in the early stage of your budding friendship when you first started to hang out with each other because things can get weird easily between friends if they are not the same gender but Jungkook proved to Hoseok multiple times that he supports you and would walk through fire for you. Nothing happened between you two in romantic aspects, there was no shift, even though someone who doesn’t see you daily interacting with him would assume something is going on.
”I’m going to change.” You announce to no one in particular, the way your shirt clings to your curves as you’re surrounded by male counsellors you don’t know adds extra pressure and their eyes on you make you uncomfortably fidget in place, your make up is probably smudged on your face giving you a panda effect.
”Wear this your bra is showing.” Jungkook gives you his wet shirt but the black material conceals your body to look decent enough and you thank him he could easily sense your distress and he feels a little bad that he pulled that trick on you. He had to coax you into wearing that bikini at the beach last year buttering you up with compliments so the two of you could finally get going, he knows better than anyone that you’re shy and insecure about your body if someone you don’t know sees you, you don’t hate your body but it makes you feel anxious if some stranger looks at you like you’re his meal for the evening and he totally gets it.
He glares at every single one of them who looks at you inappropriately alongside your brother who shares the same sentiment as him. You deserve to be treated right, that’s why he was super angry once you told him about your first time, that guy just stuck it in without making you cum.
Hoseok doesn’t know, however, you only told Jungkook about your unpleasant experience when you were tipsy, you had to tell him at a house party while playing truth or dare, you had to share something he didn’t know and considering he’s your best friend not much was there to confess. You hoped that he was drunk enough to forget about it the next day but he surprised you with ice cream and you talked it out with him, he can be immature sometimes though when the situation needs him to be serious he’s there for you. He never once made fun of you for something you felt insecure or not confident about.
Areum takes in your dishevelled look as soon as you step through the entrance of your current accommodation, opting for a quick shower to wash the dirty lake water off your skin you tell her what happened vaguely before disappearing behind the bathroom door and she snickers silently seeing your grumpy face.
Jungkook marches to the seat next to Hoseok the playful glint is still there as he rakes his fingers through his hair shaking the droplets out of his locks like a dog and the way female colleagues eye him didn’t go unnoticed by either Yoongi or Hoseok for that matter. Your best friend is not as dense as you think he is because for a while now he connected the dots why you seem to avoid Yoongi at all cost.
It shocked him at first but now observing your interactions closely he calls himself a fool that he didn’t realise it sooner. Your best friend knows about the ’you can’t woo my baby sister’ rule because it’s applied to him as well, Hoseok cornered him one day after you left to bring up snacks for a movie night and told him awfully descriptive outcomes what will happen to him if he tries anything on you all the while he pushed him against your lavender walls, that day he learned that smiley Hoseok can be scary sometimes.
It’s been years and his overprotectiveness lessened because you dated guys here and there and Hoseok was always supportive of you and your soon-to-be boyfriends, but you didn’t go to second dates with any of them.
He found it strange at first but after he found out about your little crush on your brother’s best friend some things clicked and your behaviour wasn’t soo odd anymore, Jungkook didn’t read too much into it at first because he thought it’s going to be a fleeting flame but it’s been years that you harbour feelings for the older man.
Yoongi was a harder nut to crack because he’s better at masking his feelings than you but he can see how his eyes linger on you when he thinks no one’s looking, his slip-ups are subtle ones and it would go over his head if he wouldn’t be so tuned in searching for his reactions.
His gut feeling tells him Yoongi feels the same way you do (his face might not be as expressive but his eyes are sparkling every time he finds you in the crowd) although he can’t be one hundred percent sure, the benefit of the doubt that makes him keep question every move and look he throws your way his confusing actions indicates that even Yoongi doesn’t know how he truly feels about you so Jungkook didn’t bring up the subject because he’s not sure how to approach this without making this more complicated.
He doesn’t want to give you hope when he can’t guarantee his intuition is right so he choose to silently observe and let things unfold naturally but it gets harder with time to ignore how you two are dancing around each other like idiots. Well, at least before now you straight out refuse to be in the same room as him.
At this point, he’s convinced that neither of you is going to make a move to let the other know about your romantic feelings, he wanted to respect the fact that you didn’t want him to know about your feelings towards your brother’s best friend but enough is enough and he’s tired of seeing you avoid the matter for another year like this.
His plan so far doesn’t seem to work, he convinced Hoseok to sign you up for the camp against your will but things don’t go forward as you keep avoiding the problem so he needs to give both of you a little push from the sidelines to end this.
He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting if he’s being wrong about this but the rejection would be better than living in denial, not knowing if he reciprocates your feelings, he hates seeing you cry but he’ll be there to kick ass and support you. Jungkook makes up his mind and calls Hoseok’s name to grab his attention.
”What do you think about one of your friends dating Y/N?”
Hoseok’s brow raises in question and Yoongi’s body stiffens at the mention trying to seem unaffected but Jungkook detects the slight change in his demeanour. ”Why do you ask? You’re not in love with my sister, are you Jeon?” He can’t stop laughing as he hears Hoseok accusing him immediately, he gets comfortable in his seat before answering. Waiting a little before responding to get a dramatic effect, he spends too much time with you as he realises he picked up some of your theatrical approaches.
”God, no. She’s my best friend I know too much about her to think like that.” His laughing subdues into small chuckles, he saw you at your worst and best moments, seen you naked by accident. You’re beautiful and funny but he doesn’t see you as a woman. Yoongi’s eyebrow twitches at the mention of ’knowing too much’ but Jungkook’s next words are the final blow for him to grip the armrest.
”I heard Taehyung is gonna ask her out and I wanted to know what you think about it.” Hoseok schools his features quickly after that, he didn’t know Taehyung liked you like that but he has no right to control your life or tell you who you can consider as a potential love interest. You can like whoever you want, he tried to show you his support when you introduced some of your dates to him and he’s going to keep his promise even when it comes to his friends.
You were always close but after he began to tell you who you can or can’t see your relationship became distant until he realised his mistakes, you forgave him easily because you love your brother a lot and he loves you just as much so after a heartfelt conversation between the two of you he promised not to do that to you ever again.
You’re aware he did this to protect you because you’re his precious little sister and big brothers could get unreasonably overprotective so after you almost drifted apart and even though you two talked it out. The fact that because of a boy you argued with Hoseok you decided you’ll never act on your feelings for Yoongi for the sake of your relationship. Jungkook doesn’t know that’s the main reason you keep avoiding Yoongi but he couldn’t have known because you two never touched upon the subject.
”It’s her decision.” Hoseok shrugs finally and Jungkook nods with a smile eyeing Yoongi who seem to absorb the answer he didn’t think he would get.
You’re aware of your feelings so it’s time for Yoongi to reflect on his thoughts and figure out what he wants.
Jungkook thinks that his plan might just work if he keeps up the good work. You can thank him later.
Taehyung is an unsuspecting victim caught up in Jungkook’s spider web to get you guys together. He likes every kind of art-related stuff and Jungkook showed him some of the origamis you folded for him as he has a few of the smaller ones stuffed inside his wallet under your graduation photo and of course when Taehyung asked you to teach him you agreed with the biggest smile on your face.
You took it as a great opportunity to get to know him better because you’re the least close to him in the group, not because you don’t think he’s a nice guy but before this there were not many occasions to bond with him.
He has the talent for it you realise this soon and you two spend hours inside the art room together folding new pieces after you’re free, he even suggests as a beginner what’s easier to make so the kids can be encouraged rather than making them do hard ones and be disappointed by the end result.
He visits you often and brings you tea to chat about art at first but gradually you get to know more about each other’s personal lives all the while you make origamis together. You skip lunch sometimes when you get too caught up experimenting with new shapes and Jungkook notices the displeased expression on Yoongi’s face every time someone asks about you and Taehyung’s whereabouts just to hear you two are yet again holed up inside the art room laughing and chatting.
He got even grumpier than normal and lashes out without any reason, the others dismiss his behaviour as he probably had a bad day but his best friend knows something is up with him, it’s not like he lashes out on the children because he smiles at them like he used to but his quick mood changes are getting on everyone’s nerves lately. Hoseok knows that something bothers him but every time he asks about it he says it’s nothing.
Jungkook sits beside Hoseok as he goes on and on about he has no idea what’s gotten into Yoongi lately and he’s close to rolling his eyes at him, no wonder you two are siblings he thinks. Both of you are idiots.
Yoongi didn’t show up for breakfast and you’re nowhere to find as well, he knows you’re not with Taehyung because he sits at the table behind him with Jimin and Seokjin telling each other funny stories about the kids. He shows some of the origami pieces he folded and Jimin compliments him while Seokjin tries to stuck one inside his pocket so a friendly banter breaks out at their table.
”.. and he doesn’t even tell me what’s the problem. Hey, Jungkook are you listening to me at all?” Hoseok waves his hand in front of Jungkook’s face who munches on the garnish almost finished with eating while your brother’s plate is full of food because as soon as Jungkook joined him at the table, since he couldn’t find you in the crowd, started complaining about how difficult Yoongi is being as of late and it’s too early to deal with this bullshit.
”Yoongi is upset because Y/N hangs out with Taehyung too much. If you look at the signs you would have seen that he obviously likes your sister but because of that stupid rule you made neither of them is acting upon their feelings for each other.” The outburst momentarily shuts up Hoseok, his mouth hangs open like a fish out of water blinking rapidly and it’s noticeable how the wheels are turning inside his head as he processes the information.
”Yoongi likes my sister?!” The three surrounding tables turn after hearing Hoseok’s signature banshee yell and Jungkook audibly sighs at the shocked expression he’s sporting like he suddenly grew four heads and three legs. He just might because the food is weird sometimes.
You tell Areum you have to pick something up from the art room and you’ll join her a bit later to eat breakfast hiding your hands in your hoodie’s pocket as mornings tend to be on the colder side, she gives you a thumbs up as she walks towards the dining room and you wait until she gets out of sight to turn on your heel.
You visit the art room first but what you’re searching for is not there and you head back to your cabin to see if you brought it back by accident without you realising it.
You made that origami star Taehyung whined to you about. He wanted to make one but it just can’t seem to look like it should be as he showed you his attempts. It took you a few tries to succeed as well since folding the edges were quite tricky to figure out.
On your way to the dining room, you bump into someone and the star you made end up on the ground slipping out of your grip. Raising your head instantly to apologise to the person, you were not ready to face Min Yoongi out of all people, he picks up the origami and hands it back dusting it off before giving it to you.
”Thanks.”
”Uh, everything’s alright? You seem to be in a bad mood.” You’re hesitant to address the elephant in the room, you didn’t really witness his mood swings as others because you spent most of your time in the art room but seeing him now with dark circles under his eyes a grim expression on his handsome face, it speaks volumes of how true it is, and you would hate to get on his bad side because you ask a question everyone probably asked before you.
”I’m fine.” Yoongi tilts his head towards the sky and sighs, you wait for him to say something else but that’s all he does before he walks past you.
You grimace at the lack of response, sure, things were awkward nowadays but he never straight out ignored you like that, he didn’t even look at you while he answered and left just like that.
When you join Jungkook and your brother for breakfast they have a weird aura around them and you’re itching to interrupt their silent talk as they eye each other like you’re not sitting right next to both of them.
What is wrong with anyone today, huh?
”Okay we need to do something, things can’t continue like this.” Jungkook places his hands on each side of his hips as he captures everyone's attention when he climbs on top of one of the tables like he’s about to give a grand speech about something world-rocking kind of important matters.
”I agree. I can’t even say something to Yoongi that doesn’t end with him taking my head off.” Jimin and Taehyung agree immediately since they had to deal with his temper for the most part.
”And what do you suggest we do?” Hoseok puts his weight onto the broom as he speaks, after Jungkook told him that his best friend is in love with his sister everything made sense in a way.
Why he asked about you a lot like how’s school or how’ life going for you, made sure to get something for your birthday every year, he thought that he’s nice to you because you’re his little sister, after all, he told him to treat you right. He couldn’t be more wrong about it, however. They are supposed to be best friends and Hoseok didn’t even know he liked you like that.
”I think you should talk to her Hobi. She doesn’t act on her feelings because she thinks you wouldn’t like them together, maybe if you tell her it’s ok to date each other they will end our suffering. I don’t think I can manage this moody Yoongi for another day he looked like he’s about to murder me in my sleep.” Because of Jungkook’s scheme, Yoongi went extra hard on Taehyung and the poor soul didn’t have a clue why he’s suddenly replaced as Yoongi’s personal punching bag.
Hoseok makes sure to visit your cabin after they are done cleaning and it would be an understatement to say he feels a little nervous. It’s weird that he’s here to tell you to go after his best friend as it is.
He already had a talk with Yoong in their cabin before he came here and his friend seemed terrified when Hoseok told him he knows that he’s in love with his sister.
All the colour drained from his face and he actually took pity on him that it feels him with so much dread that his best friend knows he likes a girl, even if it’s his sister he’s happy that he found someone he likes.
Hoseok tells him that nothing is going on between you and Taehyung so he should stop torturing him, Jungkook just tried to make him jealous by saying that, it felt nice for both of them to talk openly about everything.
Yoongi told him about the party when he almost kissed her or when they would stay up all night talking to each other about everything and nothing, he shares his genuine feelings and admits that for a while he didn’t know what he felt for her but he wants to be with her.
You had similar reactions like his friend, at first you tried to deny the fact but later when Hoseok reveals everything and speak about Jungkook’s plan, you gave up to lie and instead tell him you liked him for three years and you tried to move on but you couldn’t that’s why none of your previous relationships seemed to work out.
Your brother feels stupid for not seeing the signs, maybe Jungkook was right and he’s really an idiot.
It’s awkward knowing that he feels the same way about you you’re not gonna lie, it feels like a dream but at the same time, you’re afraid one day you’ll wake up and realise all of this was just a fragment of your imagination.
Hoseok’s support was a pleasant surprise and even though you want to strangle your best friend with your bare hands for meddling with your business and literally shouting out to the world you love Min Yoongi to the moon and back moments ago to have everyone witness your face flame up you decide against all expectations and you give him a bone-crushing hug because without him all of this wouldn’t have happened. All that matters is that he likes you back.
”How did you know?” You curiously ask and Jungkook feigns he’s thinking about the answer whilst pinching your cheek, that smirk he wears when he’s about to say something stupid makes you reconsider. You shouldn’t have asked.
”I mean I discovered it recently so you were quite good at hiding it because normally I always sniff out your secrets right off the bat but as soon as I focused on your reactions it was easy to tell.” He points at Yoongi standing a few feet away next to Hoseok and he suddenly burst out laughing.
”I saw you running into a fucking tree when you saw Yoongi wet because Hoseok threw him into the lake.” You clasp your hand over his runny mouth before he can embarrass you further, you were not ready to see Yoongi blush so cutely at the comment while Hoseok doubled over because he laughed so hard seeing your face after Jungkook said that.
You denied it in a high pitched squeal. ”That fucking tree wasn’t there that’s why!” Everyone seemed to find your excuse hilarious as they laughed continuously at your attempts of saving your last piece of dignity but even Yoongi chuckled couldn’t contain his biggest smile to take over his features as he thinks you look so cute when you’re embarrassed, and you like him back.
”Can we see a kiss at least if we had to put up with grumpy Yoongi for an entire week, I really started to fear for my life, you know?” Jimin chimed in, it was endearing to see Yoongi turn bashful in front of you.
”Now that it was brought up Jeon Jungkook I can’t believe you used me like that! I had no idea why you suggested that I try to learn making origamis from Y/N. Our friendship is over!” Taehyung points at your best friend accusingly and he only scratches the back of his neck.
”I did it for a good cause…wait Tae where are you going? Look I’m sorry…” Jungkook chases after the former boy trying to hug him from behind but Taehyung doesn’t reciprocate it and your friend starts whining at that telling him that he’s so sorry while Jimin and the others unoccupied at the moment resumes their staring at the both of you to move and kiss finally.
Even Namjoon and Seokjin who were silent until now joins in and chants alongside the others to ”kiss kiss kiss kissss”
You let out a shy chuckle taking the first steps in his direction and his eyes go wide in surprise when your shoe touch. Kissing his cheek instead you tiptoe to reach his height so you can easily circle your hands around his neck and pull him down to hug you, it reminds you of the hug you shared with him before the whole trip to the summer camp started but this time it felt different.
His embrace was warm and inviting as he held you by your waist his chest vibrated against you as he laughed when your friends demanded a real kiss.
Yoongi found himself sitting beside you inside the art room as you explained how the kids can make bunny-shaped origami out of the grey coloured papers in front of them and his hand immediately found yours under the table to intertwine your fingers together once you sat down next to him.
You try to suppress a smile as you watch over the kids ensuring that they don’t cut themselves with the scissors but your body betrays you as you subconsciously lean into his frame he smells like vanilla extract and chocolate. He showed the kids how to make muffins in today’s lesson, it turned out good because Yoongi measured the ingredients while the kids only mixed and did simple tasks such as portioning out the dough or decorating the top of the treats.
Someone had two or three muffins left on their table as they worked, focused on their folding technique occasionally they stole bites making you and Yoongi giggling under your noses when you would catch chipmunk cheeks.
Yoongi helped you clean up after the lesson throwing out leftover papers and sweeping the floor before you joined the others for lunch.
Things changed in the group’s dynamics after you started dating Yoongi but overall they were happy to see both of you happy.
Even though Jungkook likes to make jokes about how you two are basically joined at the hip for days and soon after starts to complain about how you spend less time with him now that you have a boyfriend, he’s clearly happy for you. It’s a new situation for everyone and Hoseok has a hard time picturing you with his best friend but seeing you so happy with him he supports your relationship wholeheartedly.
After you’re done with the activities for the day you and Yoongi retreat into his cabin as everyone else stays at the campfire. They see the two of you slip away hand in hand, howbeit no one dares to comment on it but you see Jungkook having an inner battle to stop himself from yelling out ’use protection’ luckily Taehyung stuffs his mouth with a handful of chio chips before that could happen.
Your boyfriend pulls you closer by tugging on your intertwined hands caging you between his arms and the door, kissing the corner of your mouth he moves downwards to kiss over your jawline and neck, smiles into the juncture of your neck when you chase after his lips as he pecks your cupid’s bow next, impatient to feel his lips against yours you pull at a fistful of his hair guiding his mouth to capture his lip between your teeth. Yoongi grunts into the kiss tasting your sweet mouth never cease his hunger for you, only leaves him wanting more and more.
”I can’t believe you’re mine.” He seals his words over your feverish skin with in between kisses, marking up your neck, nibbling and kissing every inch until your breath becomes laboured under his sweet attacks.
You weave your fingers into his hair whilst a soft mewl leaves your parted lips as his knee parts your legs to brush against your centre.
He presses his thighs further into your throbbing pussy swallowing the noises you make getting lost in your body heat. He wants to take his time with you licking every corner and dip until you shake and pant his name.
”Wait. What about my brother?” You jump a little when you feel his hand on your ribs travelling up until he cups your breast over the shirt you’re wearing. Kneading your flesh over the fabric your body relaxes into his touch it’s enough to leave you breathless seeing his expression so earnest to please you, pupils dilated as he looks at you under his hooded lids it’s hard to control his urges when you look good enough to eat.
”He stays over at Namjoon’s don’t worry about him.” Yoongi catches your earlobe with his mouth biting down on your shell playfully, the sensation makes you heave a gasp, the words barely registering in your brain.
”Off. I want this off.” Feeling especially bold today you sneak your hands under his shirt caressing his sides with your fingertips, pecking his collarbone that peaks through the collar of his clothing. A whine resonates within your throat when your boyfriend steps back to pull his shirt over his head revealing his stomach and shoulders for your hungry eyes to feast upon disliking the cold air that fills the space once his body is not there to keep you warm, you pull him close diving in to connect your lips in a heated kiss tongue licking into his mouth.
His hands wander under your clothes this time mapping out your smooth skin following the lines of your sides to find the opening on your bra, once he gets the clasp open he traces your spine with his index finger grabbing your ass with both hands as his wandering hands reach south. Your moan gets lost inside his busy mouth that explores your hot cavern at the same time his hands cup you over the fabric of your leggings. It doesn’t give your throbbing pussy justice when he decides to rub your clit and drag his fingers over the dampening material.
”Let’s move things to the bedroom shall we?” The innocent peck he places onto your cheek makes your heart flutter, excitement and love mix inside your veins sweetening your blood as your pulse quickens under his adoring gaze. You nod kissing him again before you let him guide you to his door, not separating from your sensually moving lips as he blindly closes it behind your entangled forms.
He removes your pants and shirt in one go, letting the garments form a pile on the floor promising your sweet release with each removed clothing until the only remaining barrier that keeps your naked glory from his piercing gaze is slipped down your shaved legs, he feels how soaked the material of your cotton underwear had become after so little foreplay and he finds himself insanely turned on by the discovery.
Yoongi eagerly encloses his mouth over your erect bud eliciting airy moans when he alternates between sucks and licks on your sensitive mound paying equal attention to both sides as he massages the neglected one with firm hands whilst he blows air to the saliva coated nipples and watch your expression morph into torturous pleasure but he’s not satisfied with your shy suppressed noises.
Your slick oozes out of your empty opening running down your thighs and stain the bedsheet your clit aches to be touched and your hole clenches around nothing as your lover keeps his head between your boobs kissing and licking your skin there until your nipples get too sensitive to his touch, red and swollen when he rolls it between his fingers. His leg parts your thighs keeping them wide open so you can’t get any stimulation until he decides to move lower.
Seeing how you shake under his body parted lips keep asking him to give you more, he doesn’t have the heart to deny you any longer as he starts to rub your thighs keeping your legs open for him to bury his face between your beautiful cunt swollen and needy for his touch he lets his tongue dip between your folds tasting you first before gently sucking on your clit.
He hears you call his name perfectly in tune with his tongue’s strokes as he intends to eat you up. Your essence covers his chin as he licks your hole clean lapping up everything your precious body can produce for him dipping inside the tip of his tongue your muscles tense up ready to get filled with something bigger and Yoongi’s cock twitches inside the confine of his underwear.
He doesn’t need to remove his undergarments to know his tip is red and slick with his precum desperate to fill your empty hole up but before that, he coats two of his fingers in your wetness and pushes them inside parting your walls gently to ease you into the feeling preparing you to take his cock.
Your hips buck into his hand as he curls his long fingers inside your velvety walls feeling your muscles constrict around his digits he moans with his head thrown back as he imagines his dick getting the same treatment later, your musky scent and visual laying beneath him taking what he gives you drives him crazy with need.
Perking up at the sound you open your eyes blinking to get the blurriness fade dreamy half-lidded eyes watch as his fingers fill you up and you almost close them again because of the pure ecstasy his expert hands give to your overwhelmed body.
You see the painful tent that formed inside his briefs before the numbing pleasure could consume you yet again and there’s a wet spot in the middle that lets you know he gets off on seeing you enjoy yourself. His hips unknowingly to him ruts against the sheets to get some kind of friction realising that he focused solely on your pleasure and put it aside to chase his, he’s so different from the partners you previously slept with and the sudden urge to please him overtakes your selfish side to just receive and receive.
You palm him over the wet spot following the outline of his hard dick to give him some well-deserved relief and he immediately grinds into your palm letting out breathy groans and low moans, you don’t mind at all when he gets lost in your touch instead and momentarily forgets about his goal to get you prepped nicely for his cock. The fingers he has inside you stills and your head clear out a little, you’re able to focus on his face learning what he likes as you study his reactions to your movements, you know his moans will probably become your favourite sounds.
You take advantage of his current state to switch positions, letting his fingers slip out of you as you get rid of his underwear grabbing his thighs to lower yourself while he sits down at the edge of the bed.
Taking his tip into your mouth to taste his precum you feel Yoongi’s nails digging into your scalp as you swallow around him trying to get him into your mouth as much as your poor jaw can handle. Holding the base of his cock to guide him back into your wet cavern you set a slow pace, stroking what you can’t fit.
”You look so good sucking my dick baby.” You learned that he tends to be on the quiet side even in the bedroom, his reactions however are good indicators of how you’re able to affect him with every swirl of your tongue. Letting him use the hand tangled in your hair to set the rhythm of your movements your vision blurs as tears swell in your eyes due to the quickened pace and force he starts to fuck your mouth but he pulls out before he could get too close to cumming.
”I need to have you know. Lie down on the bed with your legs spread wide for me.” You follow his instructions showing him your drenched swollen pussy as he climbs on the bed after you, admiring the way he ruined your cunt before he reaches for a condom retrieving the item from inside his drawer.
He touches himself in front of you watching you squirm under his gaze as you wait for him to roll the condom down his length, your body aches to finally be filled with something bigger.
”Yoongi. Fill me up.” You part your pussy lips for him revealing your hole clenching around nothing, beckoning him to fill you up Yoongi looks at the sinful image in front of him saving this memory of you for later when he’s alone with his hands but today he plans to have your cunt wrapped around his cock rather than his fingers.
Your drenched walls suck him in as he enters you, hips lowering in slow motion to bury his entire length inside, nice and steady, gripping his shoulders for support you moan into the sloppy kiss feeling so full.
You hear his guttural moan loud and clear just as his breath hits the shell of your ear and your walls squeeze around him, wet squelching sounds ring beside your mixed love language thriving off the sounds he grunts directly into your ear encouraging you to meet his movements in the middle.
It feels like you stand in front of the gates of heaven when Yoongi increases his pace thrusting in and out, not being able to stop as he feels his balls tighten with the need to cum he parts your legs even more as he watches his dick emerge from the pussy he owns now coated in your juices taking his hard length and moan out every time his tip curves to touch your sweet spot with each delivered stroke.
You cum first around his dick, he helps you ride out your pleasure only pulling out when you whine from oversensitivity and he rolls the condom off to finish as well, watching your spent pussy glistening with your cum he uses the sight in front of him to get off, he collects your slick to lubricate his shaft as he starts to jerk himself off faster.
Once your breathing evens out and you see the concentration on Yoongi’s face while he lucidly moves his hands up and down his throbbing cock with the desperate need to cum you touch his hips drawing soothing circles onto his sweaty skin taking him back into your mouth to help him reach his high.
He comes in your mouth with a soft cry throwing his head back as you keep sucking him licking his sensitive tip until he pulls your head off with a shaky hand stroking your cheeks with his thumb.
”So friends and family, let me introduce you to my boyfriend Yoongi. You might have already met him before.” You joke in front of your relatives of all ages and you see in the corner of your eyes how Hoseok rolls his eyes.
© helenazbmrskai lll Please do not copy, reblog and like instead!
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Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️
Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)
I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)
Word Count: 1300(ish)
Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.
- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is.
- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.
- You’re not wrong.
- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.
- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.
- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...
- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.
- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.
- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.
- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.
- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.
- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.
- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.
- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.
- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.
- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.
- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.
- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips
- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.
- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.
- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.
- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.
- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.
- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?
- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.
- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?
- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.
- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.
- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.
- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.
- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.
- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”
- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.
- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.
- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.
- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.
- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”
- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”
- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”
- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”
- Llewyn snorts.
- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.
- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”
- “You’re jealous.”
- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.
- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.
- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.
- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.
- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.
- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”
- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”
- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.
- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.
- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.
- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.
- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.
- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.
- There’s another tweet.
- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.
- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.
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Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride
Mob! Steve x Reader
Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers.
Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing
Word Count: 7969
A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx
Series Masterlist __ Masterlist
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.
“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.
2 weeks ago
“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it.
“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell.
“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured.
“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker.
You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.
“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care.
The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.
Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer.
This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building.
Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen.
“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed.
“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation.
“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.
“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill.
The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you?
It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option.
No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home.
“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York.
You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month.
Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month.
Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig.
So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you.
The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that.
You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more.
Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon.
You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere.
“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him.
“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless.
“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out.
“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit.
“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?”
He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well.
“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act.
“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him.
“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far.
John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair.
“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets.
If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that.
But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again.
“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan.
“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that.
“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh.
“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part.
“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of.
He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off.
“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good.
“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care.
“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about.
“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud.
Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really.
“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding.
“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop.
You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be?
Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently.
The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically.
“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you.
“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”
“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine.
But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first.
“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure.
“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?
Wednesday
“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work.
You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come.
“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking.
“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh.
“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust.
“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?”
They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables.
“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly.
God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening.
You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed.
Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice.
You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did.
Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it.
Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure.
The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside.
“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again.
“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity.
“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him.
You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him.
As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all.
But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet.
A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked.
It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes.
“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm.
You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body.
Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God.
“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known.
“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening.
“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped.
Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible.
“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously.
“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface.
“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?”
He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa.
“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint.
“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really.
“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly.
“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?”
“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!
You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy.
“What would be expected of me?”
“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being.
“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate.
“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.
Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.
“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was.
“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction.
“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.
“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers.
“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you.
“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously.
“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”
“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well.
I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9.
“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes.
“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.
“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit.
He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP.
The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal.
“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning.
Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer.
“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.”
“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even��demand stuff. Fucking hell…
“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.
Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will.
You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind.
“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him.
“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away.
Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit.
Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.
/ Next Chapter >
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YOUR EMPLOYEES AND INVESTORS WILL CONSTANTLY BE ASKING ARE WE THERE YET
I think I've figured out what's going on. After the first 10 or so we learned to treat deals as background processes that we should ignore till they terminated.1 Don't Get Your Hopes Up. Something hacked together means something that barely solves the problem, the harder it is to bait the hook with prestige. And that is almost certainly mistaken. So one thing that falls just short of the standard, I think, should be the highest goal for the marginal. Big companies think the function of office space is to express rank. As big companies' oligopolies became less secure, they were willing to pay a premium for labor. You can see it in old photos. If you're friends with a lot of the worst kinds of projects are the death of a thousand cuts. And what's especially dangerous is that many happen at your computer.
And the microcomputer business ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. In 1450 it was filled with the kind of turbulent and ambitious people you find now in America. You have to like what they do there than how much they can get the most done. That's not what makes startups worth the trouble. Design This kind of metric would allow us to compare different languages, but that if someone wanted to design a language explicitly to disprove this hyphothesis, they could probably do it. This technique can be generalized to: What's the best thing you could be doing, not just what you can see the results in any town in America. With this amount of money can change a startup's funding situation completely. There I found a copy of The Atlantic. Whereas it's easy to get sucked into working longer than you expected at the money job.2 That's ok. I think you have to do all three. But more importantly, you'll get into the habit of doing things well.
But what if the person in the next 40 years will bring us some wonderful things.3 They all know about the VCs who rejected Google. The writing of essays used to be.4 You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.5 He improvises: if someone appears in front of him, he runs around them; if someone tries to grab him, he spins out of their grip; he'll even run in the wrong place, anything might happen. The people who've worked for a few months I realized that what I'd been unconsciously hoping to find there was back in the place I'd just left. It was supposed to be something else, they ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. By 2012 that number was 18 years. The first thing you need is to be willing to look like a fool.6 Google they have a fair amount of data to go on. John Malkovich where the nerdy hero encounters a very attractive, sophisticated woman.
Many of the big companies were roll-ups that didn't have clear founders.7 Empirically, the way to the bed and breakfast, and other similar classes of accommodations, you get to hit a few difficult problems over the net at someone, you learn pretty quickly how hard they hit them anyway. Inexperienced founders make the same mistake as the people who list at ABNB, they list elsewhere too I am not negative on this one was the only way to get lots of referrals is to invest in students, not professors. It will actually become a reasonable strategy or a more reasonable strategy to suspect everything new.8 Never say we're passionate or our product is great. Whereas undergraduate admissions seem to be disappointments early on, when they're just a couple guys in an apartment. Programmers at Yahoo wouldn't have asked that.9 Incidentally, this scale might be helpful in deciding what to study in college. VCs think they're playing a zero sum game.
I spend most of my time writing essays lately. Almost everyone's initial plan is broken. If smaller source code is the purpose of comparing languages, because they come closest of any group I know to embodying it. Distracting is, similarly, desirable at the wrong time. But if we make kids work on dull stuff now is so they can get away with atrocious customer service. In fact, here there was a kid playing basketball? Of course, figuring out what you like.
Go out of your way to bring it up e. The industry term here is conversion. Try to keep the sense of wonder you had about programming at age 14. At least if you start a startup, people treat you as if you're unemployed.10 But hacking is like writing. Even with us working to make things happen the way they used to, they were moving to a cheaper apartment. It causes you to work not on what you like, but is disastrously lacking in others. I do in the rest of the world. Their defining quality is probably that they really love to program.
I could only figure out what to do, there's a natural tendency to stop looking.11 Economies of scale ruled the day.12 One is that this is simply the founders' living expenses.13 I need to transfer a file or edit a web page, and I think I know what is meant by readability, and I think they're onto something. Multiply this times several hundred, and I get an uneasy feeling when I look at my bookshelves. You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.14 Everyday life gives you no practice in this. Startups grow up around universities because universities bring together promising young people and make them work on anything they don't want to want, we consider technological progress good.
Notes
Samuel Johnson said no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money. Which is precisely my point. If they were regarded as 'just' even after the egalitarian pressures of World War II the tax codes were so new that the guys running Digg are especially sneaky, but except for money. They don't know enough about the new top story.
The image shows us, they tended to make money. But we invest in the Bible is Pride goeth before destruction, and one of the fake leading the fake leading the fake. In No Logo, Naomi Klein says that 15-20% of the aircraft is.
But because I realized the other writing of Paradise Lost that none who read a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. If they agreed among themselves never to do due diligence for an investor? The best technique I've found for dealing with the other.
I ordered a large number of startups as they do for a public event, you can ignore. If you want to help the company, and a few of the Facebook that might produce the next Apple, maybe the corp dev is to show growth graphs at either stage, investors decide whether to go to die.
If you walk into a big company CEOs in 2002 was 3.
Or rather, where w is will and d discipline. But that turned out the existing shareholders, including that Florence was then the richest country in the sense of mission.
In Shakespeare's own time, because they can't afford to. The company may not be able to raise their kids in a company in Germany. When we got to see the apples, they said, and why it's next to impossible to write an essay about it wrong. That will in many cases be an open booth.
I'm not saying you should probably be worth trying to tell them exactly what constitutes research in the early 90s when they say they bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. As Jeremy Siegel points out that there is undeniably a grim satisfaction in hunting down certain sorts of bugs. Did you know about it as if you'd invested at a discount of 30% means when it was actually a great programmer doesn't merely do the right direction to be is represented by Milton.
But a lot of the next round. It's hard to say exactly what your body is telling you. In Russia they just kill you, they tend to be very unhealthy. One thing that drives most people realize, because you have two choices, choose the harder.
Though Balzac made a lot of classic abstract expressionism is doodling of this essay talks about programmers, but one by one they die and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev. Or rather, where it sometimes causes investors to act. Eric Raymond says the best hackers want to trick admissions officers. And no, unfortunately, I mean efforts to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a truly feudal economy, you better be sure you do in proper essays.
The top VCs thus have a better education. Or a phone, IM, email, Web, games, books, newspapers, or some vague thing like that. You need to fix. But the question is not much to maintain their percentage.
Kant. Loosely speaking. The real decline seems to them to lose elections. Some types of startups where the recipe is to say incendiary things, they can grow the acquisition offers most successful founders still get rich simply by being energetic and unscrupulous, but they get for free.
World War II to the frightening lies told by older siblings. That's one of the most general truths. As we walked in, we found they used it to get into that because a unless your last funding round.
But this seems an odd idea.
Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Shiro Kawai, Garry Tan, Chris Small, and Nikhil Nirmel for sharing their expertise on this topic.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#li#secure#discipline#sup#things#Whereas#efforts#startups#Apple#Dev#Nirmel#Atlantic#turbulent#Thanks#people#situation#Siegel#Web#Incidentally#tax#event#age#draft
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Update for the fake quarantine dating au, which has now become the “fuyumi is fucking done after like 20 years of this shit and is now just going feral” au:
To recap, Hawks and Dabi got stuck in quarantine together for several weeks because both of them are high risk. Dabi was on the background of one of Hawks’ video calls, causing Hawks to have to lie about having a boyfriend, information which was then leaked to the public.
Because they were bored gay disasters, Hawks and Dabi played into this and Dabi did makeup so he could do a livestream for Hawks’ fans. Hawks was a flustered mess the entire time, and it was actually going fine until Fuyumi and Natsuo saw and recognized their long lost brother.
Dabi, being a fucking mess of a human being, faked his death a second time, only this time it was Hawks’ fake boyfriend who died, since he doesn’t want to deal with his emotions. Only, Fuyumi has the Todoroki conspiracy gene, and refuses to believe it. She ends up stalking Hawks, recruiting Miruko (who has a crush on her, and also doesn’t know who she is), finding out about the league of villains, and then accidentally joining the league of villains with the help of Twice, as she’s looking for her long lost brother.
So here we are, in this insane situation. Hawks and Dabi are the only two people who know that 1) Fuyumi is a Todoroki. 2) She’s looking for Dabi, who she hasn’t recognized as Touya yet. The rest of the league knows she’s looking for her brother, but don’t know who she is or who her brother is.
Fuyumi, as it turns out, is actually good at being a villain. She starts out rather hesitant, but obviously still has to play her part. Her strategy is basically ‘fake it till you make it’ and by god is it effective. Not only is she smart, knowledgeable about heroes, and a good planner, but she’s also really good with getting the villains to actually stick to said plans. Turns out years of working with children pay off after all.
The more she settles in, the bolder she gets, and the more she realizes that Shigaraki isn’t actually that committed to being a villain, and like, is fairly open to suggestions. As such, she starts slowly pivoting the league from pure destructive activities, to more constructive attacks.
Fuyumi: “Okay, hear me out on this, what if instead of attacking the same group of school children minding their own business a fifteenth time, we target corrupt government officials instead?”
Shigaraki, hesitant but intrigued: “... I dunno, I swear someone said that attacking a singular group of school children was the best way to be a villain.”
Fuyumi, using her Teacher Voice: “How about this, why don’t we try the government officials, and if you decide you don’t like it, then we can go back to the other plan?”
Shigaraki: “... Okay fine, I guess we can try it your way.”
The heroes are incredibly confused about what’s going on, because it seems like the league of villains suddenly shifted goals, competency levels, general moral codes, and nobody knows why.
Hawks, is having a fucking time, because he’s morally torn on a number of levels. Some of the ‘corrupt government officials’ being targeted included people who were involved in his own raising, and people who assigned him to this mission. Dabi has been slowly cuing him in on how fucked up his situation is, but Hawks still feels conflicted on the people who made him a hero. Not only that, but now that he’s dating Dabi and trying to protect Fuyumi, he has to lie to those same people about some parts of the league to keep them safe.
It doesn’t help that the league is steadily becoming less morally objectionable to him under Fuyumi’s guidance.
Also, it really doesn’t help that during this time, Hawks has started working side by side with Endeavor.
While dating his son, who Endeavor believes is dead.
While Endeavor’s daughter, who Endeavor believes to be a kindergarten teacher, is someone that Hawks sees regularly during fucking league of villains meetings.
Hawks avoids Shouto like the plague because he’s terrified of what will happen if another Todoroki child gets wrapped up in this.
Also at some point there’s a hero conference to discuss the changes happening within the LOV/PLF and Endeavor is leading it, while Hawks has to sit right next to him for several hours and not say shit while everyone around him speculates wildly.
Hawks is having about 3 mental breakdowns at once and the only reason he makes it through that meeting alive is because Miruko keeps jumping in to bail him out and pull attention away from him.
Actually, Miruko has been just amazing recently, buying his excuses without a second thought, offering him alibis, and defending his weird behavior. It’s weird though, she’s been acting a bit funny too. Maybe she’s seeing someone? Hawks thinks that must be what’s putting her in such a good mood.
Miruko is also dying inside, although a lot less than Hawks is because she still has no idea that she’s currently dating Endeavor’s daughter, who she helped infiltrate the league of villains. All she knows is her girlfriend is amazing and is single handedly saving thousands of lives, and Miruko has only been dating her for like two months but she may or may not be already trying to guess her ring size.
Dabi is just trying so hard to come up with excuses to not be around Fuyumi, all while trying to also keep her safe, get her to give up on searching for him/being a villain, keep Hawks’ cover from being blown, and then everything else going on his life.
Shigaraki by this point has 100% figured out that Hawks is/was a double agent, but doesn’t actually care because he makes Dabi happy. That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to pretend to be suspicious anyways, because fucking with Dabi and Hawks is fun and honestly he doesn’t much else going on his life.
Alright, that’s not entirely true, he actually does have the whole ‘being a villain’ thing going on, and also Fuyumi and Toga have been encouraging him to put a bit more effort into his appearance, so he’s been learning how to dress nicely and do hair. When he’s all cleaned up, he hardly even looks like the same person. But besides that he doesn’t have a lot going on in his life.
Or at least, he doesn’t until one day Fuyumi’s younger brother, a very dashing young man by the name of Natsuo shows up looking to check in on his sister. He has no idea who Tomura is, but is very polite and friendly, and even a bit flirty because unlike his brothers, Natsuo is a functional gay and can ask a guy out without needing to pine and dance around him for 4-8 business weeks.
Tomura may or may not have panicked and introduced himself as ‘Tenko’. He also may or may not have panicked and said yes when the guy asked him out. Agreeing to a second, third and fourth date were all conscious choices, just bad ones.
Fuck.
#dabihawks#Miruyumi#fuyumi todoroki#dabi is touya#natshig#natsuo todoroki#tomura shigaraki#bnha crack#mha crack#dabi#touya todoroki#bnha hawks#hawks#takami keigo#miruko#rumi usagiyama#the league of villains#the paranormal liberation front#Paranormal Liberation Front#bnha#mha#sif speaks#fake quarantine dating au#family dinner is gonna be fun#my headcanons#the lov
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Goodbye Paris: The Class's View
This is set for after Marinette graduates early, and right after Hawkmoth's defeat.
When Marinette left the class for good many were happy that another 'bully' was gone. They celebrated even more when Hawkmoth was defeated though they made sure to comfort a despondent Adrien. In fact the class didn't think about her much until Bustier asked how their funding for the end of the year trip was going.
Everyone was just confused asking her what she meant. Bustier mentioned that they should have been raising money for their trip. Since Marinette was gone it fell on the rest of the class. Lila spinned a story claiming that Marinette purposely dropped out half way through the year to screw up their trip. Bustier tries to mention that Marinette hadn't dropped out but the class is already on its tyrant of Marinette being terrible. She simply sighs and drafts up an email explaining to Damocles that her class will not be going on the trip.
The class is terribly upset as they scramble trying to make up enough money to at least do something together as a class. Adrien pulls out some of the money he has from selling his father's company and helps pay for them to go to Disney Paris.
As crime begins to rise Adrien reveals himself as Chat Noir, hoping that with the help of Paris he'll convince Ladybug to give his Miraculous back. He is happy that Paris rallies around him, however it backfires on him when Ladybug announces she is leaving Paris for good.
When the class confronted Lila about her best friend, Lila burst into tears. Leaning against Adrien forcing him to fake comfort her. She spins a tail that Ladybug, 'real name Megra' went off on her a while back for getting akumatized. She claims that 'Megra' insulted her telling her that she was done being friends with a 'disabled' person. Everyone but Adrien believes her, this causes Alya to start tearing apart Ladybug on her blog.
Soon all of Paris is looking for this 'Megra'. When the trip comes up everyone is sad that they aren't leaving the country like other classes. Once they get back Lila starts crying saying that this was all Marinette's fault. This causes the class to get angry. And Alya decides to head over to Tom and Sabine's and give Marinette a piece of their mind.
When they arrive they notice a limo out front this causes them to stop and stare. They watch as Jagged Stone gets out greeting Marinette with a tight hug as the driver takes her bag. She then gets into the limo with him leaving before the class can make it over. When Lila sees Sabine and Tom she quickly asks what is going on, playing the worried classmate card. Sabine tells them that Marinette has moved out to an apartment close to her college.
Lila frowns starring after the limo hiding her anger. Before saying that Marinette must have tricked poor Jagged in some way and then stating that Marinette couldn't get into college because she dropped out of school.
The class comforts Tom and Sabine, both of whom tell them they are sad that their daughter turned into the woman they just watched leave. Lila smirks before smiling gently at the parents and telling them that she'll be there if they ever need help.
Over the next couple years the only time they hear of Marinette is when Juleka is complaining over her brother still being friends with her.
Lila cons Adrien into dating her after she convinces their former classmates to help push them together. Adrien agrees and starts dating her wanting to keep the peace between his friends. Meanwhile the others all have jobs in the field of their passion but they are extremely low level. Adrien and Lila are still modeling. Nino only djs for kids parties and school dances. Alya is working in journalism but rarely gets to write her own articles, and so on.
When Gotham is destroyed Lila is quick to cry out that she hopes the Wayne family is okay. Claiming that she's known them all since she was young. In fact she drops out of contact for six months only to come back claiming she found a way into Gotham. She tells them she was helping the poor Wayne family and Gotham rebuild.
The former classmates gather together excited to watch Bruce's opening speech. Lila and Adrien couldn't make it. The class is shocked when they see Marinette standing behind Bruce. Her head resting on the youngest Wayne's shoulder with her right arm around his waist and her left hand placed on the center of his chest, with his left arm wrapped around her waist. The class blows up when instead of mentioning Lila, Bruce thanks Marinette for all she did helping rebuild Gotham. No one knows what to think, Marinette was there with them on tv. She was live proof that she had been in Gotham the entire time. Meanwhile Lila had no proof, the former class was in shock.
Everyone attempts to reach Marinette to talk to her but they all fail. No one can get through to her, Tom and Sabine have no contact. Chloe wont even acknowledge them and when Juleka tried to guilt her brother it ended with him cutting off all contact with her. Telling her he was ashamed of how she'd been acting and that even now she won't take no for an answer.
Soon after they begin to separate themselves from both Lila and Adrien spending less and less time with the two. Until they didn't even text anymore, Adrien is isolated with only Lila causing her to gain more control over him. A few months later they become Lila and Adrien Agreste, he hates it but she makes the best out of the grave he dug himself.
Neither of them know about Marinette marrying Damian Wayne. They don't hear about her until a few years later. Both of them are in America for a photoshoot and a fellow model manages to get them both tickets to the Wayne family's gala.
When they arrive Lila is upset that only a few photographers want pictures of them. She is struggling not to glare as they enter the ballroom at Wayne Manor. The two mingle with other models, Adrien enjoys talking to other people. While Lila keeps a death grip on his arm, talking and giggling with other models.
They are both surprised when they hear Marinette call out to Selina. The two watch her enter the ballroom escorted by Damian, walking behind them were two twins that's only difference was their gender. Both of them are shocked when one of the model exclaims excitedly about her boss Mrs. Wayne finally arrives with her darling twins no less. The small families outfits are elegant and beautiful, each one screaming one of a kind.
The two spend the entire night attempting to get closer to the couple. Both fail spectacularly, someone always coming between them.
Halfway through the night Bruce calls attention to him and Selina, before telling everyone that the Wayne family had a few announcements. He announces that he is handing Wayne Enterprises over to Tim and Damian completely, and that he is signing Wayne Manor over to Marinette and Damian. Richard steps up with Commissioner Gordon and Barbara by his side and the Commissioner announces that he is officially stepping down and naming Dick the next Commissioner. The ballroom bursts into whispers when Marinette and Damian and Damian stand up, causing the others to give them confused looks. They share a loving look before Marinette announces to everyone their own news.
Marinette- First I want to say congratulations to my oldest brother Richard. I have no doubt you'll make a fine Commissioner. I wanted this to be a surprise so only Damian, twins and I know this, but we have an announcement of our own. Come late December the Wayne family will have two more additions, our daughters Gina Gray and Byrce Catherine Wayne!
This causes the room to burst into cheers everyone quick to congratulate the family on their newest additions. It isn't till the end of the night that Adrien manages to talk to Marinette. Before he can say anything though he notices the familiar ring on Marinette's hand. He mutters out My Lady, something he hasn't said in years. Marinette sighs, shaking her head looking at him sadly.
Marinette- You could've been so much more Chaton. So much more, now if you'll excuse me. I don't want to talk with you. My goodbye to Paris was final. There are only six people from Paris that I still want to see, you're not one of them.
Marinette turns to walk away but Adrien quickly grabs her wrist holding on tightly. He tells her that they need to talk and that she owes that to him. He is surprised when not just Damian comes to her defense but all his siblings. He looks past them trying to get Marinette to listen to reason but she isn't even acknowledging him. She is comforting her twins who are hugging her tightly glaring at Adrien through tears.
That's the last time Adrien saw her in person after he got thrown out with Lila. Both banned from any Wayne galas or functions.
@chocolateherringtacofan
#marinette dupen chang#miraculous marinette#maribat#damian al ghul#damian wayne#damimari#daminette#batfamily#batman#ml ladybug#mlb x dc#ml x dc#ml salt fic#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#miraculous fandom#miraculous au
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Losing a loved one is one of the major trials of life many of us will encounter. Grief from that loss is a natural reaction that takes a different trajectory for different people. Some people describe grief as a dark fog that is difficult to shake, others speak of the suffocating regret and anxiety that often accompany those feelings, still others speak about grief as waves that rise up and subside at different points.
“And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient, Who, when disaster strikes them, say, “Indeed we belong to Allah , and indeed to Him we will return.” Those are the ones upon whom are blessings from their Lord and mercy. And it is those who are the guided.” [Quran; 2:155-157]
Sometimes people are expect to follow a particular timeline of grief, but the reality is that the journey of grief is different for everyone. Counsellors and bereavement supporters often speak about the five stages of grief that were popularized in the famous book On Death and Dying by psychiatrist Elizabeth Kubler-Ross namely: denial (as you begin to come to terms with the reality of the situation, denial begins to fade and difficult feelings may begin to surface), anger/anxiety (anger is the body’s natural reaction to threat and, oftentimes, there is no greater threat than the loss of someone you love or the loss of the way you envisioned life would be. Anger can also feel powerful during times when we feel powerless. You may experience nervousness, heart palpitations, restlessness, irritability, and/or difficulty breathing), bargaining (this stage often includes “If only…” statements due to the feelings of regret that come up with loss. This stage is characterized by an overwhelming desire for life to return to the way it was), depression (you might feel down and cry more often than you usually do. It may also feel like you have less motivation and find less enjoyment in activities you used to love. This stage can feel as though it’ll stretch on forever) and acceptance (it involves accepting the reality that this person is physically gone and that this new reality is the permanent reality. Acceptance does not mean that you’re “ok” with what happened. The loss of someone you love will likely never feel ok. The goal in this stage is to learn how to live with this loss and create a new normal despite the huge piece that is missing). However, recent research and understanding has concluded that grief can be an individualized and unpredictable experience and no two people’s experiences will be the same.
Let us look at some advice in the Quran and Sunnah to help us cope with grief and the loss of a loved one:
Shed tears as much as you want, but don’t let the tongue say what may displease Allah
Our Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) experienced grief at many points of his life, often at the loss of loved ones. During these experiences he taught us that grief is a natural emotion and that Allah does not hold us accountable for expressing sadness and pain in a permissible manner. Sadness does not negate the acceptance of Allah’s decree which is the very center of a believer’s journey in grief.
Narrated Anas bin Malik: We went with Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) (p.b.u.h) to the blacksmith Abu Saif, and he was the husband of the wet-nurse of Ibrahim (the son of the Prophet). Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) took Ibrahim and kissed him and smelled him and later we entered Abu Saif’s house and at that time Ibrahim was in his last breaths, and the eyes of Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) (p.b.u.h) started shedding tears. `Abdur Rahman bin `Auf said, “O Allah’s Apostle, even you are weeping!” He said, “O Ibn `Auf, this is mercy.” Then he wept more and said, “The eyes are shedding tears and the heart is grieved, and we will not say except what pleases our Lord, O Ibrahim ! Indeed we are grieved by your separation.” [Hadith; Sahih al-Bukhari 1303]
We see the intensity of these emotions in the Prophet Yaʿqub عليه السلام when he was separated from his son Yusuf عليه السلام and he grieved so deeply that his eyes turned white (it’s said that he lost his sight) due to the extent to which he cried. His intense grief is expressed in the Qur’an (after all those years of losing his son) yet he was called to have beautiful patience (sabrun jameel):
And he turned away from them and said, “Oh, my sorrow over Joseph,” and his eyes became white from grief, for he was a suppressor. [Quran; 12:84]
Accept that all of us belong to Allah and all of us will return to Him
As we see from the hadith above where the Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) was coping with grief, patience in Islam does not mean that we do not cry and that we do not express our emotions. What is forbidden is wailing and slapping one’s cheeks which was the culture at that time (the Arabs – women in particular – used to scream and wail during funerals or at someone’s death). As the Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said the eyes shed tears and the heart is grieved but the tongue only says what is acceptable to Allah.
Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “The example of a believer is that of a fresh tender plant; from whatever direction the wind comes, it bends it, but when the wind becomes quiet, it becomes straight again. Similarly, a believer is afflicted with calamities (but he remains patient till Allah removes his difficulties.) And an impious wicked person is like a pine tree which keeps hard and straight till Allah cuts (breaks) it down when He wishes.” [Hadith; Sahih al-Bukhari 5644]
Make dua for yourself
As human beings, we attempt to cope with negative emotions in different ways. We often attempt to push away difficult emotions because they make us feel uncomfortable as it’s a painful process to sit with these feelings. We may try to distract ourselves or put on a fake smile. Some may even self-medicate through the use of drugs or alcohol to alleviate the pain they are feeling. When we are unable to grieve fully and an experience becomes a source of trauma, we are thrust into survival mode, which shuts down the executive functioning part of our brain and prevents us from thinking clearly. This is why we may react to situations in unhealthy ways or do things during times of stress that we would not have done during times of ease. This is one reason why some people struggle to worship Allah during times of extreme stress. When the “danger activation center” part of our brain is dominant, there is a decrease in self-awareness, our capacity to self-evaluate, and our ability to establish goals. All of these require advanced thought processes, which are very difficult to sustain during times of extreme stress. In order for any activity to help, our brain needs to register it. Research has shown an association between prayer and the ability to re-engage the “thinking” part of our brains.
Umm Salama, the wife of the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ), reported Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) as saying:If any servant (of Allah) who suffers a calamity says:” We belong to Allah and to Him shall we return; O Allah, reward me for my affliction and give me something better than it in exchange for it,” ‘ Allah will give him reward for affliction, and would give him something better than it in exchange. She (Umm Salama) said: When Abu Salama died. I uttered (these very words) as I was commanded (to do) by the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ). So Allah gave me better in exchange than him. i. e. (I was taken as the wife of) the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ). [Hadith; Sahih Muslim 918 b]
When I lost my baby son Hamza, I remember one of my close friends messaged me this dua and reminded me to keep reciting it. I had not really known that dua at that time but I am so grateful for friends who guided me to the right words to say at such a confusing and overwhelming time when I almost lost my faith as a revert.
Stay among people who love you and would support you through this difficult journey
It is quite common to be engulfed by grief with the death of a loved one. However, one must not dwell in it much heaven knows i did but i soon realised this sends an invitation to Shaytan to become your company. Let the death of a loved be a lesson of detaching from Dunya and to hold Allah (glorified and exalted be he) in your heart above all others.
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) visited Sa’d bin ‘Ubadah during his illness. He was accompanied by ‘Abdur-Rahman bin ‘Auf, Sa’d bin Abu Waqqas and ‘Abdullah bin Mas’ud (May Allah be pleased with them). The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) began to weep. When his Companions saw this, their tears also started flowing. He (ﷺ) said, “Do you not hear, Allah does not punish for the shedding of tears or the grief of the heart, but punishes or bestows mercy for the utterances of this (and he pointed to his tongue).” [Hadith; Riyad as-Salihin 925]
Remember that your patience is being rewarded more than you can imagine
These are words you should say even when you feel sad at the memory of a loss you faced in the past or when you miss your loved one or the life you had planned with them.
Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “Allah says, ‘I have nothing to give but Paradise as a reward to my believer slave, who, if I cause his dear friend (or relative) to die, remains patient (and hopes for Allah’s Reward). [Hadith; Sahih al-Bukhari 6424]
Stay away from questioning Qadr of Allah (asking: why me? or if only!)
Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: ‘A slave (of Allah) shall not believe until he believes in Al-Qadar, its good and its bad, such that he knows that what struck him would not have missed him, and that what missed him would not have struck him.” [Hadith; Tirmidhi 2144]
Often one of the ways, Shaitan attacks us at times of calamity or a loss is to overwhelm us with questions of what if and why me? How did this happen? Would it have been prevented if I had just done this or that or gone to the hospital earlier or taken this or that medical intervention?? I blamed myself for my sons death so much over the last year (he passed away 25/07/2020) but after reading the following in last few weeks I've become to realise there was nothing I could do to prevent it as it was Allah's will.
“The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: ‘The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, although both are good. Strive for that which will benefit you, seek the help of Allah, and do not feel helpless. If anything befalls you, do not say, “if only I had done such and such” rather say “Qaddara Allahu wa ma sha’a fa’ala (Allah has decreed and whatever he wills, He does).” For (saying) ‘If’ opens (the door) to the deeds of Satan.'” [Hadith; Ibn Majah 79]
These are some of the words my midwife told me to say when I heard the news of my baby passing away in my womb after 25weeks of pregnancy I am forever grateful to her for reminding me this at that trying time. Reminding ourselves we all have a path and a time to meet Allah and it is not the time be battling with the what if questions you are bombarded yourself with. I am grateful to Allah (swt) for giving me people in my life who were able to remind me of the right words to say and the right approach at such a difficult time. Remind yourself: whatever happened was decreed by Allah and nothing you or someone else did or did not do could have changed it. Focusing on the factors within your control, rather than on regrets and a desire to return to the less painful past, can help you to get through this stage.
But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah Knows, while you know not. [Quran; 2:216]
Turning back to our deen and our belief in Qadr is what helped us accept the death as something Allah had decreed at this exact time and this exact situation and there is nothing we could have done to have changed that. Changing the past is not feasible so channeling our energy into something unchangeable is a recipe for intense pain. Instead of “What if…” Focus on “What is…”: The one thing we consistently have within our control is what we choose to do with the present moment. Shifting our focus away from regrets of the past and worries about the future allows us to take advantage of the present moment. Allah (swt) talks about this attitude of remorse in the Quran:
O you who have believed, do not be like those who disbelieved and said about their brothers when they traveled through the land or went out to fight, “If they had been with us, they would not have died or have been killed,” so Allah makes that a regret within their hearts. And it is Allah who gives life and causes death, and Allah is Seeing of what you do. [Quran; 3:156]
Instead, turn to Allah and open your heart to Him
Death can serve as a reminder to those left behind about the temporariness of this life and the importance of working for our next lives. It forces us to reflect on what is meaningful and what is important. Turn to Allah and pour your heart out to Him, talk to Him about your pain, cry out to Him and ask Him to calm your heart and heal your pain. Ask Him to reunite you with your loved one in Jannah. Ask Him to give you strength and peace. When Prophet Yaqub (عَلَيْهِ السَّلَام) cried so much that he lost his eyesight after all those years of losing his son, his elder sons said:
They said, “By Allah , you will not cease remembering Joseph until you become fatally ill or become of those who perish.” He said, “I only complain of my suffering and my grief to Allah , and I know from Allah that which you do not know. O my sons, go and find out about Joseph and his brother and despair not of relief from Allah . Indeed, no one despairs of relief from Allah except the disbelieving people.” [Quran: 12:85-87]
Turn to Allah in sincere dua. No one else can heal your pain and give peace to your heart.
اللَّهُمَّ مُصَرِّفَ الْقُلُوبِ صَرِّفْ قُلُوبَنَا عَلَى طَاعَتِكَ
Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said: “Verily, the hearts of all the sons of Adam are between the two fingers out of the fingers of the Compassionate Lord as one heart. He turns that to any (direction) He likes. Then Allahs Messenger (ﷺ) said: 0 Allah, the Turner of the hearts, turn our hearts to Thine obedience.” [Hadith; Sahih Muslim 265]
Journal to face and deal with your emotions so you don’t become hopeless
Writing to process your feelings is another helpful technique to help deal with your emotions and your grief ive found this out this week from advice from a sister who lost her father recently. She said that Writing out your thoughts and confusions will help sort them out, journals about your feelings from day to day, use gratitude journalings to focus on the blessings even at such difficult times, write letters to your loved one as if you are talking to them. All of this helps deal with the emotions and grief just as talking or counselling does as well.
“And that to your Lord is the finality. And that it is He who makes laugh and weep.” [Quran; 53:42-43]
Find meaning / gratitude in your life again and create the required changes
Grief expert, David Kessler says, “meaning comes through finding a way to sustain your love for the person after their death while you’re moving forward with your life. Loss is simply what happens to you in life. Meaning is what you make happen.”
It was narrated that Ibn ‘Abbas said: “When a young daughter of the Messenger of Allah was dying, the Messenger of Allah picked her up and held her to his chest, then he put his hand on her, and she died in front of the Messenger of Allah. Umm Ayman wept and the Messenger of Allah said ‘Oh Umm Ayman, do you weep while the Messenger of Allah is with you?’ She said: ‘Why shouldn’t I weep when the Messenger of Allah is weeping.” So the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said “Verily, I am not weeping. Rather it is compassion.’ Then the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said: ‘The believer is fine whatever the situation; even when his soul is being pulled from his body and he praises Allah, the Mighty and Sublime”‘ [Hadith; Sunan an-Nasa’i 1843]
Finding meaning cannot erase your grief; pain is a natural reaction to intense loss. However, it can help you move forward. The loss of someone or something dear to you can often lead to reevaluating your priorities in life. Allowing this loss to push you toward positive changes in your life is one of the most profound ways of creating meaning. Gratitude is one of the qualities of a believer. Gratitude is tied closely to the concept of patience. The Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said:
Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said: Strange are the ways of a believer for there is good in every affair of his and this is not the case with anyone else except in the case of a believer for if he has an occasion to feel delight, he thanks (God), thus there is a good for him in it, and if he gets into trouble and shows resignation (and endures it patiently), there is a good for him in it. [Hadith; Sahih Muslim 2999]
Gratitude is also an attitude during adversity. Although difficult to see, there are always blessings that accompany a difficult time. Look for the blessings and ease that Allah has brought with this difficulty. May be things were easier than they could have been, may be there were eases in other areas of your life, may be this test drew you closer to Allah (swt), may be it allowed you to reflect on the reality of your life and allowed you to give more in charity, may be it became a means of wiping away your sins and earning you reward.
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “When a man’s child dies, Allah, the Exalted, asks His angels, ‘Have you taken out the life of the child of My slave?’ and they reply in the affirmative. He (SWT) then asks, ‘Have you taken the fruit of his heart?’ and they reply in the affirmative. Thereupon He asks, ‘What did my slave say?’ They say: ‘He praised You and said: Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un (We belong to Allah and to Him we shall return).’ Allah says: ‘Build a house for my slave in Jannah and name it Baitul-Hamd (the House of Praise).”‘ [Hadith; Riyad as-Salihin 922]
Know that sadness doesn’t last forever even if the memories do
“For indeed, with hardship ease. Indeed, with hardship ease.” [Quran; 94:6]
Remember this promise of Allah. Remember that every moment of sadness and pain, no matter how overwhelming, is a part of the process of healing. Instead of focusing on the stretch of days ahead of you with this loss feeling like a looming storm cloud over your future, focus on the one step you can take today to get through the day. When experiencing feelings of depression, putting one foot in front of the other can make a huge difference. Get adequate sleep and eat healthy. Your body and well-being are an amānah from Allah that you need to take care of. Find time to decompress, however that might work for you. For some people this may include praying, making dua, reading, art, working out, or engaging in a hobby.
It was narrated that Ibn ‘Umar said: “I was with the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) and a man from among the Ansar came to him and greeted the Prophet (ﷺ) with Salam. Then he said: ‘O Messenger of Allah, which of the believers is best?’ He said: ‘He who has the best manners among them.’ He said: ‘Which of them is wisest?’ He said: ‘The one who remembers death the most and is best in preparing for it. Those are the wisest.’” [Hadith; Ibn Majah 160]
Go through happy memories you experienced with them and remember your loved one in good words
Narrated Abu Al-Aswad: I came to Medina when an epidemic had broken out. While I was sitting with `Umar bin Al-Khattab a funeral procession passed by and the people praised the deceased. `Umar said, “It has been affirmed to him.” And another funeral procession passed by and the people praised the deceased. `Umar said, “It has been affirmed to him.” A third (funeral procession) passed by and the people spoke badly of the deceased. He said, “It has been affirmed to him.” I (Abu Al-Aswad) asked, “O chief of the believers! What has been affirmed?” He replied, “I said the same as the Prophet (ﷺ) had said, that is: if four persons testify the piety of a Muslim, Allah will grant him Paradise.” We asked, “If three persons testify his piety?” He (the Prophet) replied, “Even three.” Then we asked, “If two?” He replied, “Even two.” [Hadith; Sahih al-Bukhari 1368]
Remembering the happy times you had with your deceased loved ones can be a bittersweet experience. Many will talk about how this can have a healing effect, others mention how it rekindles the pain in their heart. Sometimes different reactions may also depend on where you are on your grief journey. Remembering the good times you had with your loved one can help you in dealing with the grief and with slowly learning to remember them without always feeling the pain of separation. Reminding yourself that you still have hope of reuniting with them in the hereafter is another way to help you process the pain you are feeling.
It was narrated that ‘Aishah said: “Something bad was said in the presence of the Prophet about a person who had died. He said: ‘Do not say anything but good about your dead.”‘ [Hadith; Sunan an-Nasa’i 1935]
Make dua for your loved one and give charity on their behalf
Messenger of Allah(ﷺ) said: “A man will be raised in status in Paradise and will say: ‘Where did this come from?’ And it will be said: ‘From your son’s praying for forgiveness for you.'” [Hadith; Sunan Ibn Majah 3660]
Channel your grief in a productive way and think about what you can do for your loved one now. One of the ways we can benefit our deceased loved ones is by making sincere dua for them. We can also benefit our deceased loved ones by giving charity on their behalf.
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “When a man dies, his deeds come to an end except for three things: Sadaqah Jariyah (ceaseless charity); a knowledge which is beneficial, or a virtuous descendant who prays for him (for the deceased).” [Hadith; Riyad as-Salihin 1383]
Seek help and support others
Seek social support, go to counselling and therapy, talk to friends about how you feel. Attend a bereavement group if you can so you can see how others in your situation are coping. Check Children of Jannah or Eternal Gardens for bereavement support. One major indicator that someone needs professional help is if they demonstrate an impaired ability to function in their day-to-day life with their family, at work, socially, emotionally, and sometimes spiritually. Again, this doesn’t mean that the person is mentally ill, but that they would likely benefit from talking to someone with expertise in the field of mental health.
Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “A Muslim is a brother of another Muslim, so he should not oppress him, nor should he hand him over to an oppressor. Whoever fulfilled the needs of his brother, Allah will fulfill his needs; whoever brought his (Muslim) brother out of a discomfort, Allah will bring him out of the discomforts of the Day of Resurrection, and whoever screened a Muslim, Allah will screen him on the Day of Resurrection.” [Hadith; Sahih al-Bukhari 2442]
The aim of ta’ziyah is to strengthen the broken-hearted and give them hope at a time when their hope may be waning; it is to lighten the load of the bereaved. After the intense sadness of losing someone you care for deeply, you have the unique ability to empathize with the struggles others face in similar circumstances. Here are some things you can do for grieving families: Spend time with them without imposing yourself as a guest and expecting them to host you with food and drink. Offer to help by buying groceries, doing household chores, or watching their children.
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: Prepare food for the family of Ja’far for there came upon them an incident which has engaged them. [Hadith; Sunan Abi Dawud 3132]
Do what helps you through your journey of grief. Remember no two journeys are the same, so listen to your heart and give it what it needs. Sometimes you may need time to be alone, sometimes you may need to be around others you love. Sometimes you may need to talk about them, sometimes you may just need to sit quietly with your own thoughts. May Allah heal your pain, calm your heart and reunite you with your loved one in the hereafter.
I hope this helps who ever needs it see this right now...
Rest in peace my beautiful son Hamza until we meet again in jannah 🤲🤲
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Here’s a super sweet Echo/Crosshair fic req from an Anon!
( i couldn’t decide between Cross and Tech, but Cross flowed better for some reason, so i went with him :D) I hope you enjoy ☺️ (slight TW for vomiting and sum self-destructive thoughts<3) Fic under cut ⬇️
Word count: 3339
"That should be all." Nala Se spoke slowly, turning away from the arc trooper and dropping the bacta shot into a waste bin.
Echo nodded and hopped off of the examination table as the Kaminoan turned to put a data pad away.
He glanced down at his legs as he tugged his sleeve back over his flesh arm.
Nala Se had given him another anesthetic—the second one this week—after he had stepped funny on one of his prosthetics during a course down in the simulator facilities. He'd taken a pretty un-graceful fall and accidentally tripped Hunter, sending the two of them tumbling down a ramp. Hunter was fine, but Echo's leg had been sore the entire day.
In fact, Crosshair had to catch him in the dinner-line when he'd almost toppled over from standing on his leg in a certain position for too long.
The sniper had given him a look and told him to go to the med-bay—no exceptions.
So here he was, in the med-bay, again, with his second painkiller of the week.
It was starting to become... troublesome.
He began to put his armor back on before deciding that he would just carry it back to the barracks since the batch would be going to sleep soon anyways. Well, Hunter, Crosshair, and Echo would be going to sleep. Tech and Wrecker usually stayed up to do their own thing for a bit before actually heading to bed.
Sighing, he scooped up the plastoid in his arms and began to make his way out of the med-bay.
The bright hallways of Tipoca City seemed to burn through his eyes and into his newly peaking headache, causing him to squint as he turned a corner. He knew his way around the city, it was sealed into his brain after getting lost many times in the previous years, before he joined the bad batch. Before the thing happened.
The thing.
The thing that was becoming harder to keep up with day after day, becoming harder and harder to push aside. Harder to ignore. Harder to hide.
It was getting harder and more exhausting to fake being fine around the bad batch, to ignore the constant headaches and bothersome pains where his limbs were supposed to be. There had been so many times where Echo had skipped meals because he could barely stand, telling the rest of the batch that he was just worn out—which wasn't exactly a lie. Sleeping was becoming more difficult as well.
His nights were turning into readjustments, shifting around, blanket-no blanket madness. He'd stare up at the ceiling in the barracks, and pray to the maker that he'd be able to fall asleep for hours on end. Sometimes he'd sit up in his bed and scroll through a data-pad, looking at old rules and regulations to see if he could still recite them like he used to. It was all so different now, but all so similar at the same time.
The Batch was so understanding. They understood Echo. They helped him when he needed it, and they welcomed him as one of their own.
But he wasn't one of them.
He was more machine than man.
That was nothing like them.
The regs knew, the batch knew, and Echo knew. It was obvious. They knew what they were getting into when they accepted him into their squad.
Echo's stomach lurched as he turned a corner, and another wave of pain flowed through his temples.
He was becoming the exact thing he told himself he wouldn't.
A liability.
A burden if you will.
All Echo did was slow the squad down, and mess up their flow. He couldn't do anything right without getting himself or one of the batch hurt. It was like a curse, that he literally couldn't function without. Without his prosthetics, he'd be of zero use or need to the squad, and would most likely be cast away to work in the medical facilities, or decommissioned.
So really, The bad batch was the only reason he was being kept alive.
And he just kept screwing it up.
They always told him, that he wasn't a problem, that he wasn't slowing them down, or burdening their team. But what if they were lying? Echo wouldn't be surprised if that was the situation. Tripping Hunter during the simulation wasn't the first time something like that had happened, it it most certainly wouldn't be the last.
So why did they keep him?
A weight began to settle in Echo's stomach as he turned down the hallway that the batch's barracks were in.
He exhaled, and almost put his lunch on the floor.
He froze, and dropped a few pieces of armor as he slapped his hand up to his mouth. The sound of the plastoid clattering to the floor sounded in his ears much louder then they should've, knocking another pulse of discomfort through his skull. He turned away from the noise and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ground himself as a bitter taste filled his mouth and bile bubbled in the back of his throat.
Echo's mind began to race as he stood as still as possible for a minute.
Clones were not supposed to get sick. He knew that for a fact, and had never met or seen a sick clone in his entire time being alive. It was threaded into them as mere test tubes, and continuously kept up as they grew, and went out to war. Clones were a species with one of the strongest immune systems in the galaxy, so there was really no reason for Echo to be feeling this way.
Well, there was always the thing.
With most of his humanity stripped away, it was possible that some of his genetics and artificial health that the Kaminoans had pumped into him since birth was failing now. He was eating whats in the cafeterias—most of the time—which contained the nutrients and medicines that kept them all healthy and ready for battle at anytime. So why was his stomach betraying him?
He opened an eye and stared at the blank white wall for a second, before looking to the barracks and considering his options.
He could, go back to Nala Se and ask for some stomach relievers, or possibly another bacta shot, or, he could go into the barracks and attempt to fake his way till sleeping time, and hope that he didn't vomit all over Tech's equipment.
Nala Se was most likely already closing everything up and putting all her supplies away, so it was possible that he could catch her before she finished up. Although, she might consider his condition... unreasonable. If he kept coming to her with more problems, it would give her a pretty good reason to send him to the medical squads, where he would be less bothersome to her, or even to the decommissioning facilities.
Shit.
He wasn't even sure he could make it all the way back to the med-bay at this point. His hand was shaking, still over his mouth, and the nausea mixed with his splitting headache was doing nothing for his attempt at grounding himself. If he did go into the barracks, he'd have to make it to the bathroom before any of the squad saw him.
Unless... Was the squad even in there?
Echo tried to remember what day it was through the thick fog that seemed to have settled in his head, and thought about what days the squad went to train in the sparring rooms.
It was... Taungsday? No. It was Centaxday. On Centaxday, the batch went down to the sparring rooms at around twenty-hundred, and trained till twenty-two hundred-thirty. So, if he could just...
Echo glanced down at the pieces of armor he'd dropped.
His bracer and comm were on the ground, and his bracer had a chronometer on it.
Slowly, Echo forced himself to swallow and took a deep breath, straightening himself out and closing his eyes for a moment. He leaned over, and hissed as another piece of armor tumbled out of his arms. He picked them back up and attempted to adjusted them with his prosthetic arm, before clicking the chronometer on.
It read twenty-hundred twenty-nine. Perfect.
Echo swallowed again before taking a step towards the barracks door. He kept his gaze straight ahead as his vision started to swim in front of him while he walked. Desperately, he reached out to the door with his prosthetic, jabbing the button on the panel next to it, dropping more armor at the lack of support.
A disgusting wave a nausea crashed over him as he stumbled into the wide room when the door hissed open.
Crosshair snapped his eyes up to Echo from his bed as he stepped down the stairs un-gracefully, dropping pieces of armor on the way.
He-
Crosshair.
Echo did a double take, whipping around to face the sniper on his bed.
He was the only one in the room. Perhaps he didn't want to spar tonight? Or maybe Echo got the days wrong...
"Echo?" Crosshair spoke from his bed, shifting his rifle to his other side as he cleaned it.
Echo opened his mouth to answer, but instead, dropped his all of his armor completely, and darted into the fresher to vomit.
His stomach tensed, pushing up everything he'd eaten in the last few hours right into the toilet. He crouched down, taking a quick breath before throwing up more. His throat burned, and tears sprang into his eyes as he gripped the edge of the toilet.
He repeated that, two or three more times, before sitting back on his heels and sagging into the wall next to him.
He breathed heavily, holding his flesh hand over his still aching stomach as he let out a cough. A gross taste burned in his mouth and he grimaced, swallowing down another urge to vomit before letting his head tilt back to rest against the wall.
Why the fuck was Crosshair in the barracks.
"What are you doing." The man in concern said flatly, suddenly standing at the door of the small fresher.
Echo groaned, before leaning over to heave into the toilet once again.
Pain pulsed through his head as the muscles in his stomach squeezed and cramped together, making everything about the situation ten times worse then it needed to be. A tear rolled down his cheek as his face heated up, humiliated in front of the experienced sniper.
"Are you okay." Crosshair said from behind him, voice literally emotionless.
Echo shouldn't be this weak. He was an ARC Trooper for kriff's sake. He was supposed to be the strong one. The leader. And here he was, barely able to make it through the day with out getting hurt or sick.
Another tear rolled down his face, and then another, before he was full on crying while emptying his stomach in the small space.
"Echo."
Echo coughed as his stomach stopped for a moment, giving him a second to breathe. He tried to wipe his tears as he heard Cross step into the fresher.
"What." Echo croaked, clearing his burning throat and lowering his head as he leaned away from the toilet.
The sniper suddenly crouched down next to Echo, resting his forearms on his thighs as he turned to look at him.
Echo looked away.
"Are you 0kay?" Crosshair asked again. He was only in the bottom half of his armor, his top half covered by his blacks like Echo was.
Echo looked up to stare at him.
Crosshair blinked.
"I-" Echo tried, his voice watery. "I'm sorry."
He sniffled, wiping his face with his left arm as he leaned back into the wall again.
"For what?" Cross asked, his face completely neutral.
Echo breathed, trying to inhale through his stuffy nose, before looking back up at Crosshair again.
A broken sob escaped his lips, and then all hell broke lose from there.
Echo cried. He cried hard. Weeks of built up emotions, all poured out in front of him like he was some scared cadet all over again. Tears streamed down his face as he cried into his hand trying to cover his weakness, only to cry harder as everything hit him right there. All his unprocessed thoughts, all the lingering emotions that hadn't been dealt with, all of the situations he couldn't prevent because of his condition. He sobbed harder, wishing he could just be normal, with out complications, or ever present headaches that liked to come at the worst times.
And Crosshair got to witness all of it.
At some point, the man had shifted to sit next to Echo against the wall, which only made Echo cry harder. Cross showed no sign of any emotion the entire time, just sat next to him, in his presence. It was kind of reassuring, but it was hard to focus on when a sob racked his body every five seconds.
Slowly, Echo's body began to calm down as he tried to take a few deep breaths.
It took a few minutes, but eventually, he got himself to a point where he was just wiping silent tears away from his cheeks as he sniffled. His stomach felt a little better, at least.
The two of them sat like that for a good five minutes before Crosshair spoke again.
"What just happened?" He questioned slowly, turning to face Echo.
Echo gave a shaky sigh before attempting to speak again.
"I'm- Im sorry, for everything," He started, choosing his words carefully. "I'm supposed to be better, I shouldn't keep messing up like this. I know I'm slowing your squad down, I'm becoming more of a burden everyday, and I'm sorry. I keep getting hurt and hurting you guys, I keep getting sick and I can't do anything about it and I'm afraid I'm gonna get culled if this keeps happening and-"
Echo was cut off abruptly cut off by a hand turning him and pulling him into a tight hug.
Crosshair had pulled him into a hug.
Oh.
Even in the uncomfortable position, the hug shot right through Echo's chest and made even more tears spring into his eyes.
He sniffled again, before burying his face into Cross's shoulder and letting out an annoyed whimper.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other like it was the end of the world, and all they had were each other. Cross was usually cold and awkward with physical touch, but in his arms he felt warmer and more comfortable then usual. Echo sighed and relaxed into his arms as the sniper held him tighter.
"You are not a burden."
Echo laughed bitterly into Cross's shoulder.
"I dont-"
"You're not."
Echo looked up from his shoulder, pulling back to look Cross in the eye.
His face was level and relaxed, but his brow was furrowed in seriousness. The tattoo over his right eye was creased like it always was when Crosshair was being genuine, and Echo had to stare for a moment just to make sure.
"But, I-"
"No." Cross said. "You are not a burden, you don't slow us down, we get hurt all the time, and you're doing fine. You don't need to do better."
Echo continued to stare as the sniper spoke with zero hesitation.
"You're fine just the way you are, and you absolutely will not be culled." Cross stated, giving a small nod as confirmation.
Echo blinked and stared at him.
"And you're most likely not sick, it's probably anxiety. Makes Tech sick sometimes too." The sniper said with a small shrug.
He sounded so real, and honest. There was no reason for Echo to not believe his words, but still, something in his head held him back.
Echo grumbled a response as Cross took his flesh hand and gave it a squeeze.
"We'll work on it." Cross said, as if he’d read Echo’s mind.
Echo gave a weak laugh as Cross pulled him close again, cradling the back of his head in his hand. Echo held on to him too, relaxing into Cross's calm and trying to get his legs into a more comfortable position. They were annoying, but he could deal with it if it meant getting to cuddle with Crosshair—which was a very rare thing known to the whole squad.
Crosshair pulled away for a second this time, and Echo looked at him, a flash of worry crossing his face.
The sniper cocked an eyebrow at him before smirking and getting to his feet, pulling Echo up along with him.
"You need sleep." Was all the man said before hitting the button on the toilet an dragging Echo out of the fresher and towards the beds.
"Cross, I'm not gonna be able to." Echo sighed as they closed in on Crosshair's bunk.
Sleepless nights were starting to become normal, and Echo wasn't seeing any hope for them stoping anytime soon.
"Sit." Cross said, gesturing to his bed as they stood next to it together.
He rolled his eyes, and plopped down in the bunk as Cross wandered away to get something. Echo turned to glance at the target posters on the inside, and then to the neatly made sheets, and then the soft pillows. It was cozy, and also the same as Echo's bunk, but... definitely more cozy.
Echo began to remove his prosthetics as Crosshair came back with a cup in his hand.
"Here, drink this." He held the cup out for Echo as he set one of the prosthetics down.
Echo took the cup while Cross sat down next to him and began taking of the rest of his own lower half armor.
He took a sip of the drink as Cross unsnapped his last thigh plate off before setting them aside along with Echo's prosthetics. The liquid was cool, and felt soothing in his stomach after the horrible nausea. His head was still hurting, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it was just ten minutes ago. Now that he had calmed down some, he was starting to understand Cross's suggestion about anxiety.
Echo was fine.
Or, at least he was going to be.
Downing the last of his drink, he leaned to the side to set the cup on the ground, and caught a glimpse of his scattered armor at the door of the barracks. Sighing, he facepalmed and began to turn to ask Cross if they should pick them up, but a pair of arms snaked around his torso before he could finish.
"We'll pick em up in the morning." Cross hummed into his shoulder, pulling him back into him.
Echo chuckled as the two of them fell back into the bunk in a spooning position. Crosshair pulled him close, tightening his arms and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck as he pulled his blanket over them. Relaxing into his arms, Echo felt his nausea begin to trickle away, leaving behind a content and warm feeling in his chest and stomach. Crosshair’s warmth and arms comforted him from their place around him, and he suddenly felt more grounded then he had then entire day.
A relieving sigh made its way out of Echo’s lungs as he listened to the harsh rain against the long window in the barracks.
Slowly, he let his eyes flutter shut. His head still ached, but it wasn’t as prominent, and more easy to ignore. Maybe he’d actually be able to sleep tonight.
The sniper fell asleep quick, almost immediately relaxing and settling into Echo’s back. He rested his left hand on Cross’s hand, and traced circles around the back of his palm until he started to slip into unconsciousness himself. His eyelids began to get heavier as his breathing steadied, and soon, his whole body relaxed—for the first time in a while—as he slept in Crosshair’s arms.
#its like#the perfect amount of sad#and sweet#theyre so cute#cross is so confusing#thats why i love writing him😈#cloneshipping#clonecest#the bad batch#Crosshair x Echo#Echo x Crosshair#Cross/Echo#Echo/Cross#anon#request#tw vomiting#tw self destructive behavior#ITS SO LONG JEEZ#I JUST REALIZED HAHA#❤️❤️❤️
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