keep it one hundred

During Jack and Bitty’s 2nd summer together...

So Jack is in Georgia for a couple of days, right, and he comes back from a morning run to find both Bittle parents in the kitchen eating breakfast (Bitty slowly dragging is ass out of bed, he can hear the bathroom upstairs). 

Suzanne greets him with a smile, Coach with a nod, Jack sits down to eat. Usually, there’s a fair amount of chatter- even without Bitty- because Jack is comfortable with both parents, but now they’re eating in silence. Throwing furtive glances at Jack. At each other. At Jack again.

Jack’s stars feeling the tingle in his fingers that announces his anxiety. He counts the seconds until Bitty leaves the bathroom- no, that was the sound of the shower. Alright then.

Suzanne places her mug back on the table.

- Jack, sweetheart, we need to talk to you.

Coach takes a sip of coffee and sits back straight.

- …Alright? says Jack.

- We’ve seen the way you look at Junior, says Coach in a matter-of-fact voice.


(more under the cut)

Keep reading

You can dislike her, hate her, feel whatever you feel about Paige but let’s be real for a second, ya’ll. Let’s keep it one hundred. Paige had many, many paths she could have chosen to walk down with this Addison vs Emily allegation. When approached with sexual harassment claims against Emily and even pictures with Alison, Paige immediately questioned it and didn’t jump onto the “I hate Alison/Emison” train to distort her way of thinking. She took this incredibly dangerous situation, dug deeper, and diffused this situation herself to not only clean Emily’s name, stop any rumors to start against Alison, AND got Addison disciplined by the principle and her parents. And to top it all off, she saved Emily from seriously chewing this girl’s neck to the point where she could have really gotten reprimanded if anyone else saw.

She might not be a likable character for whatever reason you pick but she damn sure earned some respect from me tonight, as an emison shipper, I’ll tell you that because she could have been REALLY PETTY if she wanted to. Paige came through tonight.

imagine the damage andrew minyard could have done at the beginning of tfc with a vile of veritaserum

Start your novel (easy process)

So, in this post I’ll help you through coming up with a story idea, outlining and writing the first chapter. Not only that, we’ll also take an easy approach to every step. If you are stuck for months (or years), today is the day you start! 

Originally posted by letsdiscussaboutsherlock

Let’s divide this process into three steps: Story idea (first step), outline (second step) and first chapter (third step). This is, pretty much, all we need right now. 

Story ideas

With your favorite genre and subgenre in mind, create storylines for the following types of plots. You can either choose one plot at random, or try out many of them until you find a good one. This is just a brainstorm, so be open to craziness. Here are 50 simple plots.

1. Hunting monsters

2. Becoming a monster

3. Going on a journey

4. Poor becomes rich

5. Rich becomes poor

6. Good person becomes bad

7. Bad person becomes good

8. Revenge

9. Rescuing something/someone

10. Story of reincarnation

11. Hunted by group/government

12. Attacking a group/government

13. Free persons becomes prisoner

14. Prisoner becomes free

15. Escaping from enslavement/imprisonment

16. Learning a craft

17. Winning a competition 

18. Overcoming a disease

19. Training

20. Group surviving together

21. Becoming famous

22. Investigation of a mystery

23. Escaping from police/justice

24. Survival games

25. Trials

26. Unrequited love

27. Starcrossed lovers

28. Partners in crime

29. Redemption

30. Becoming a family

31. Growing up

32. Generations of a family

33. Surviving wild/apocalypse/disaster

34. Love turns hate

35. Hate turns love

36. Rivals turning friends

37. Friends turning rivals

38. Love triangle

39. Developing superpower/mutation

40. Groups/rivals at war

41. Finding/going home

42. Becoming human

43. Completing a mission

44. Going undercover 

45. Happiness to tragedy

46. Tragedy to happiness

47. Outcasted

48. Creating an ideology/religion 

49. Opening a business

50. Understanding life

After testing the plots above, choose your favorite storyline.

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

Outline

You’ve managed to pick a plot and a storyline. You already have the hardest part sorted out. Choosing is the hardest part. Now we are developing your story idea. The tip #1 of outlining is…. keep it simple. Don’t try to fit one hundred scenes, and arcs, and fillers to make your story complex. Instead, answer the following topics:  

- How should my story begin?

- How should my story end?

- Define five basic scenes that must happen for my story to go from beginning to ending.

You can either freewrite the answers, or speak to yourself in front of a mirror, or meditate about it. Find your best approach. Once you have the main structure done, you can fill the blanks as you write.

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

First chapter:

Wow!!! Congratulations. You are awesome. You’ve made through the hardest part. Really. I promise. Because writing is fun. So, here comes the fun part. Starting the first chapter is always a challenge, especially for the perfectionists. So, instead of going straight to the beginning you defined in the previous step, try something different: Start your book before the beginning. One or a few scenes before.

By the time you reach the official first scene, you are already in the flow, you’ll have a certain intimacy with characters, you’ll know them better, not only characters, but also the fictional world and the plot. So, start before the beginning. When editing time comes, you can either delete or keep it.

Originally posted by dailyhappylife

So, are you ready to start??

Trans/genderqueer musicians

Against Me!
Angel Haze
Antony and the Johnsons
Ashby and the Oceanns
Ashley Etcetera
Aye Nako
Ben Wallace
Black Cracker
Ezra Furman
For Everest
Genesis P-Orridge
Geo Wyeth
Gerard Way
G.L.O.S.S.
Imaginary Hockey League
Jake Edwards
Jayne County
Joe Stevens
Joshua Klipp
Justin Vivian Bond
Katastrophe
Kieran Strange
Le Tigre
Little Waist
Mal Blum
Mya Byrne
Namoli Brennet
One Hundred Year Ocean
Rae Spoon
Ryan Cassata
Schmekel 
Skylar Kergil
Splash-T
Spectacular Spectacular 
The Cliks
Told Slant
Tunfe Olaniran
Vaginal Creme Davis
Wendy Carlos

** I included your suggestions and it’s hopefully more complete now @ryancassata​, @insert–sarcasm–here​, @anotherindiequeer​, @for-everest​, @chazmoe​, @ashleyetcetera​ **

I hope the list keeps growing!

I’m so upset right now, I don’t know what to do.

Yesterday my five year old (read that again, I said five… it’s important) and I were in the car and learning about directions. North, South, East, West. My rear view mirror has an indicator in it and every time we turned we talked about which way we were headed. She seemed like she was struggling to remember even after getting it right several times. She’s been doing this more frequently with a lot of topics she knows backwards and forwards and it’s frustrating but I try not to let her know I’m frustrated. We turned again and the indicator changed to SW and she immediately shouts out “South West!!” I get super excited and congratulate her because YaY she gets it but then I hear a muffled “Oh No.” from the back seat and look to see her covering her mouth with her hand like she said a bad word.

After a lot of questioning about what the heck just happened, she finally admits.

“I didn’t mean to be smart. Girls aren’t supposed to be smart.”

Y'all. I almost broke down into tears right then and there. I asked her what she meant by that, girls are smart! Mommy is smart right? My FIVE year old was getting so upset because she had let it slip she knew things and I didn’t seem to be able to make any difference. Eventually, we got to the kicker….

“But boys don’t like girls who are smart.” She tells me, clearly distraught.

“Fuck boys.”

This, at least, gets the little light of my life to laugh again. She knows mommy has said a bad word and it always makes her giggle. I’m seething in rage that she has been taught to hide her intelligence already, but at least I’m not keeping her mood down in the dumps… I guess.

I’m not one hundred percent sure where to go from here. Honestly, I’m not even ten percent sure. I let the topic drop yesterday because I was too upset to make rational decisions and we went home and played Snipper Clippers… a game that requires you to think… and worked on the puzzle she got for Easter.

And then I read her a story about a bunch of puppies trying to feed themselves while their owner is sick because she is FIVE and can’t read on her own yet. She can’t read, but she knows boys don’t like girls who are smart.

We try so hard, to teach her to think, to problem solve. We encourage her when she’s interested in ‘brainy’ things like the set of gears she loves to tinker with. But I can’t control every aspect of her life. I work. My husband works. In a few months she will be in kindergarten and around even more people and children of various ages than she is now at day care.

And I can’t help but think about this child, who KNOWS boys don’t like girls who are smart…

What else does she know?

Dear Diary - Smut

Originally posted by madyvh91

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Words: 3,202
Requested by Anon:  Do you think you can write something where DOB and the reader have been together for a while and Dylan finds the readers journal that has all her “extreme kinky fantasies in bed” and Dylan finds it. It also just so happens to be the reader's birthday?! 
AN: I love you guys, okay? Don’t ever forget that. Also, I think I have a mild Ewok obsession? lmao. Also I edited this quickly so there may be some mistakes. Sorry aboot that.



Dylan sighed happily when he finally arrived home, dropping his suitcase and his pillow next to the door and swinging it shut behind him.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called, rounding the corner into the living room and through to the kitchen. It was empty, save for the note left on the counter.

“Dyl,
I had to run a million errands today, I’m so sorry! I’m picking up stuff to make you your favorite for dinner and I have to stop and pay the electric and the jeep needs an oil change. I promised I’ll be home soon, I figured you’d need time to unpack anyway. Call me if you need anything. Love you and I’m so glad you’re home.”

He smiled to himself as he read, leave it to you to leave everything for the last minute. He sighed, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a beer, sipping from the bottle as he leaned on the center island. He’d been gone filming for about 3 months, and he’d only seen you once since then, when he had been able to leave for a weekend for his cousins wedding and you had met him there.

Keep reading

The Darkness

gif is not mine

Title: The Darkness

Characters: Sam, Lucifer ( or Casifer if you want to be technical), Dean x Reader, Amara, Gabriel x Reader (you’ll see)

Word Count: 1,627

Warnings: angst, slight fluff

A/N: I wrote this a while ago, maybe a month or two ago, and I decided to post it finally. I hope you all like this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much! <3

Ever since Dean removed the mark of Cain, there had been this unspoken tension between the two of you.  You loved Dean, and he loved you, but there was one huge problem; the darkness, or Amara as she called herself.  Dean was your boyfriend, but Amara acted as if you didn’t exist.  You didn’t take her affection for Dean lightly.

When you finally came face to face with Amara, she was not pleased with you.  She made sure to note that Dean and her were bonded.  You chose not to give a shit about what she said.  You weren’t willing to lose Dean, especially to Amara.  By the time Amara was done with you, you were beaten and bloody.  Lucifer was the one to heal you.  If it wasn’t for him, you probably would have died of internal bleeding.

“[Y/N] please,” Dean pleaded.  “Amara will kill you.”  Dean’s eyes looked over the blood that still stained your skin and your clothes.

Keep reading

  • Nicky: Half of me is worried about Ovechkin. Forty percent of me is worried about Holtby. Five percent of me is relieved that somebody finally understands what I’ve been through.
  • Oshie: You know that’s not one hundred percent?
  • Nicky: I know. I always keep part of me empty. For emergencies.
Safe and Sound

Title: Safe and Sound
Word Count: 2k words
Pairing: Sam Maekjong/Reader
Genre: Romance


‘Just breathe, okay? Just take a deep breath, hold for four, and breathe out…’

Reminding yourself to stay calm, you tried to recollect your thoughts and center yourself. Thankfully, it was just before dawn, so there was no one else outside on this side of the river to witness the array of emotions you were currently getting into. On the other hand though, it left you more vulnerable to your thoughts, as the silence always put you on the edge. Gazing off over the barely visible tops of the trees, you found yourself reminiscing on your past.

Although your parents were servants in the palace, you still had some semblance to a normal childhood. You did all the chores you were expected to do, and every once in a while, you were given a break and would play with all the other servant children. It was a fun childhood full of excitement, but nothing could have prepared you for that fateful night.

You could remember the exact moment all your problems had begun, or at least when your life took a whole different spin. Only four years old, you had just learned how to cook rice and steep tea. Apparently that was enough for the Queen, seeing as she had one of her ladies-in-waiting come over to your small house to fetch you. Being abruptly woken up from sleep, you had no idea what all the fuss between the woman and your parents was, only aware of the fact you were suddenly holding a bundle of clothes to your chest and running towards the back gate of the palace.

From that day on, you had never seen your parents again. You had gained a new “family”- the crown prince-turned-king Jinheung and the man appointed to guard him, Paoh. You weren’t really sure why you had been brought along, but you had been raised to follow and not question, so you always kept your thoughts to yourself.

The king never talked much in the early years. He stayed quiet, only speaking when he was spoken to. It would have been extremely awkward and uncomfortable if it weren’t for Paoh, a man who had become an uncle to you in every sense but in blood. He had basically raised you both, albeit with different standards, with the same amount of compassion and you were grateful to have someone like him in your life.

As you got older, you realized just why it was you were brought along for the ride. Although you weren’t treated like a palace servant, there were still certain expectations that you had to meet. It was your job to have food ready at the appropriate times and make sure the laundry was always washed in a timely fashion. Even though the list of tasks to be completed each day was a long one, you took it all in stride for the people you were with made the work more than bearable.

The second time your life took a spin was when King Jinheung decided he was going back to the capital. You had been having doubts over the past few months, but the reaction you had to hearing the words “I’m going- whether you join me or not is up to you,” confirmed the feeling in your heart that you had grown accustomed to. Most simply put, you were in love.

Being that the man you were in love with was the king of the nation, you decided to keep your feelings to yourself. You made sure to never act on them, scared that he’d either distance himself because of how you were acting, or that Paoh would have no choice but to send you away. Day in and day out, you continued on with your duties as you always had, afraid of how the erratic beating in your heart would affect you. If it meant that you got to stay with the two men you had spent more than half of your life with, you would suppress acting on those feelings.

Although you made sure not to act on your new found revelation, there were times when you just couldn’t keep it one hundred percent hidden. Upon entering the capital, you were scared that someone was there waiting at the gates to slaughter to king. When he refused to live in the palace, you just about had a heartattack when the hired assassin came rushing in through the door. And when he decided that he was going to join the Queen’s Hwarang…

Momentarily forgetting all the hierarchical rules in the society, you completely disregarded the king and his idea, turning instead to Paoh to demand him to do something about the situation. There was no way you were going to let him into that snake pit! Sure it would suck being left behind by the one that you loved, but how much more would it hurt to know you willingly allowed him to walk towards his death? You may have gone along with all his other activities in the past, but this was where you were going to draw the line for yourself.

As thankful as you were that Paoh had echoed your sentiments towards the dangerous idea, the two of you were not enough to convince the king of otherwise. He had his mind set on joining the Hwarang, and with a sinking feeling in your stomach, you knew that there was nothing that could be done to stop him.

The shock of the revelation dying down, you excused yourself with the excuse of making dinner. You were never the type to easily cry, but you were just so frustrated and scared that you felt even one more second in the king’s presence would send you uncontrollably bawling. Willing the tears away, you lifted up your long skirt and hurried off towards the kitchens.

Not knowing what to do, you stubbornly held onto the hope he wouldn’t be chosen, but you also had enough sense to know that he was going to be a Hwarang even if you despised it. Unable to help yourself, you started crying, the poorly chopped vegetables a reflection of your despair.

“I knew you weren’t that smart, but I didn’t know you were an idiot.”

Hearing the king’s voice come out of nowhere startled you, causing your hand to slip and resulting in a shallow cut. It was a relief that you hadn’t been hacking at the innocent vegetables, for if you had, you were sure to have chopped off a finger.

“You really aren’t smart.”

“Shut up, this was all your fault anyway.”

Although you realized that sure words could theoretically get your head sliced off, at the present moment you didn’t care. You were still upset about him joining Hwarang, and the fact that you were bleeding did nothing to soothe your mood.

Surprisingly, King Jinheung stepped forward with a slight chuckle, taking your hand in his and easing over the sink. In stunned silence, you allowed him to attend to the small wound. The more rational side of you screamed to pull away and apologize for inconveniencing the king, but the more romantic side momentarily pushed it aside to take over and swooned at the fact that he had his full attention on solely you.

“Why are you like this… Is it because of my decision to join the snake pit that is my mother’s Hwarang?”

Hiding the small mirth at the fact he also thought of Hwarang as a snake pit, you nodded bitterly at the fact he was teasing you for feeling fear. Side-eyeing the king, you pull your hand away slowly, bowing down and muttering that you were sorry for bothering him and that you were going to continue to make dinner.

“Ah, so now you’re running away from your feelings, are you?”

Instantaneously, you were frozen in your spot. He knew? Since when? You were always careful to hide it though? How’d he find out? Mentally berating yourself for your carelessness, you slowly turned back around in his direction, head bowed down to hide the embarrassed blush hot on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I have failed as your servant for holding onto these feelings for so long instead of dispelling them as soon as they arose…”

Although it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest from the confession, you couldn’t help but be nervous about just how he would react. He must have sensed it a while ago, just now deciding to address the matter. Daring to look up, you noticed the confused expression on his face, and you realized that you messed up.

“What kind of feelings are you talking about? Don’t lie.”

Cursing yourself for slipping up, you reluctantly confessed the truth. Softly you started to explain, and he listened on, intently staring at you with the same leveled look, his unchanging expression worrying you. At the end of your explanation, he seemed puzzled, an emotion that wasn’t what you expecting.

“You…’fell in love with the king’?”

Hearing your own words coming out of the king’s mouth only caused the tips of your ears to redden in shame. It wasn’t that you regretted what you felt, but more like you felt like you had failed him for feeling in such a way. Not trusting yourself to speak just yet, you kept quiet.

“How could you fall in love with the faceless coward that is the king?!”

Shocked at his choice of words, you found yourself in tears once more. How could he possibly think such a thing? Knowing the king as you did, you slowly realized that he must have been harboring these sentiments in secret, internally beating himself up for something that wasn’t even his fault.

Slowly you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your forehead against his chest. You knew that this sort of gesture was highly inappropriate given the difference in rank that you two held, but at the moment you paid it absolutely no heed. All you wanted to do was comfort him, and you had chosen to do so with a hug.

Scared to break the moment, you started to whisper your fears about being left behind, as well as everything he meant to you. It was comfortable until you had told him that you were scared he was going to get himself hurt, which caused him to be irritated with you. Hurt at the response, you pulled back and started to walk away, but you hadn’t even taken two steps before you felt his arms surrounding you. He had apologized even though you were in the wrong for bringing it up, and silently the two of you continued to just stand in each other’s comfort. You closed your eyes, willing the moment to never end, but alas, it was not what reality had in store for you. The sound of Paoh’s footsteps met your ears, and the spell was broken.

As much as you wanted to say that the moment had changed the relationship between the two of you, it really hadn’t. Everything was exactly the same to the point where you were almost convinced that it had never even happened in the first place. Seeing as he basically dropped the whole matter, you did so as well.

Seeing the hues of yellow painting their way throughout the sky, you decided that it was about time for you to go home. Today was the first day of King Jinheung’s life as a Hwarang, and as much as you worried for him, you found comfort in the small symbol on your wrist. Right before leaving, he had asked you to fetch the special ink from the west, and to your surprise, he had taken a paintbrush and marked you.

“Whenever you feel down just take a look at this symbol and know that it is my promise to you that I shall return safe and sound.”


Please feel free to send feedback or requests! -Admin Rose 

You’re Beautiful

Originally posted by jeonbase

A/N: So, this may just become a thing. I’ve been saying that in my tags when I posted the last POC scenario and imagine, and now, because I am putting in the time and effort; I think it’d be best to start adding in these types of stories. Representation is definitely important, and if I can help make more stories relatable for people like myself, why not? :)

P.S. If by any chance, at some points within the story it doesnt make since, something doesn’t fit, or seems too corny, I apologize. >.< Im trying 

Genre: Fluffy like a yorkie, but with a pinch of angst.

Pairing: Y/N x Suga

Word Count: 7726 (Oh so long! XD)


“This is too stressful,” you huff and plant another chip in your mouth, “like, he’s making me sweat.” As you aimlessly search for shows on Netflix to watch, you slump further into the bag of chips you’ve deemed as your safe place, and whimper. “Like, who told him to be that hot and be casually nice, and smell good,” you scoff. “And I don’t even pine for guys like that! Not that it’s an issue of race, but just in general—the whole male population as a whole.“ 

 "Uh-huh,” your best friend agrees nonchalantly. 

“No, like I can totally feel your overboard support through my phone,” you smirk, but smile because even you know that you’re being silly. You’ve almost forgotten how it feels to have a crush, and the giddiness makes you excited and smiley for no reason. You fall back onto your bed with an ‘oof,’ and spread out from your previous sitting position. 

 "What? I’m listening,“ she replies, and you can hear her flip through pages—of what you guess—a magazine. “I’ve been here for almost an hour listening to you talk about your crush diligently, and haven’t said a word." 

"My point exactly,” you respond and sigh. 

“So, what do I do?” You press another chip to your tongue, and at this point, you feel like you could almost inhale the bag. 

“How about you just talk to him and see where that goes?" 

"Like start out slow and act friendly, and then maybe ease into a dating?” you ask, and you form a small frown. “I don’t think I can though, like what do we talk about? He probably doesn’t even know I exist." 

"That’s why you have to break the ice and just start off slow. If he can get a chance to know about you, then maybe something’ll happen,” your friend sounds hopeful. “Yeah, but it’s almost like we’re a worlds apart,” you whine. “We’re so different." 

"And?” your friend challenges. “Different isn’t bad, and you better figure this out soon before someone else snags him." 

"Wow, how encouraging,” you mutter, but you know she’s right. Like always. This doesn’t have to be difficult, but something’s just holding you back. Whether it’s the difference of cultural backgrounds, or the more outwardly-obvious reasons; taking a step towards this guy just seems…like, what’s the use? “I get what you’re saying though, because I’ve seen other women look at him likes a piece of meat." 

"Well, I have to keep it one hundred with you. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you think that you have forever, or by a miracle he’ll just fall in love with you at love at first sight,” she replies. “But before we hang up, because I have to meet my man for dinner; if by chance this does develop into something, he’d be one lucky dude. You’re a catch, don’t worry." 

"Awe, thank you,” you reply, and your frown literally start reversing itself. “Goodnight." 

"Night, honey,” she responds. When the phone beeps to signal that the call ends, you toss your phone onto your bed and wipe your hands on a nearby napkin. 

You’re standing up from your prolonged sitting position and your joints and muscles pop, as you stretch. Walking to your walk in closet, before you enter, you flick on the light switch. A faux crystal chandelier glimmers above your head, and brightens up your wardrobe selection. You have clothing pieces for each season, varying in different colors, and shoes and accessories to match. Needless to say, you’re proud of your collection. It’s not too much, but it’s more than enough to enjoy yourself. Nothing in your closet is too overly priced, except for maybe some shoes and a couple handbags or clutches. But you always try to purchase soberly, and not splurge on something you’ll only wear once. So as you stand in front of your clothes, you’re surprised when you feel like you have nothing to wear. In front of him. 

As you mull over outfits and possible scenarios of how you’d guys meet, you wonder when you’d make time for a relationship in general. You have a job, and school itself is almost relentless. You cannot and will not let your grades drop, bc that’s your ticket to an overseas schooling program that you need. The opportunity to travel and learn in regards to your career at the same time, it’s exciting and it could be an eye opening experience. At this, your frown starts making a comeback. 

… 

“Am I stupid?” you ask yourself. “Come on, before he gets away,” you whisper to yourself. Sitting on a bench, off to the side of the park next to your local basketball court, you watch Yoongi playing basketball, and you feel shady. You wonder if this could count as stalker tendencies. You don’t watch like this all the time, but on rare occasions that you can just sit and watch him shoot three-pointers all day—because he is just that good—you get mesmerized and admire secretly. You sigh. The breeze smooths past your skin lazily, and though the sun is bright and out, the temperature outside says otherwise. Which is why you bundled in a decently padded coat, a scarf, and beanie. You have no gloves, and you almost regret it, because your pockets aren’t doing enough.

“Still watching from afar, I see,” your friend observes. She sits beside you and hands you a red to-go Starbucks cup. 

You sigh dramatically and take the offering with a wide smile, “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad that you did. And, yes. I’m still admiring. I mean, look at him.”

“He’s good,” she agrees. Noticing off to the corner of your eye, you see she almost scoots forward, and she chuckles, “Did he change his hair color? That hair used to be black.”

“Looks good doesn’t he? It’s different, and I just want to run my fingers through it. Maybe give him a nice scalp massage while I’m at it.”

“Whipped.”

“Like the cream,” you agree and laugh heartily. You’re not joking, because you’d really do it too. Not paying attention, because you were laughing too much at your own joke, you look back up to the basketball court and pause when you notice Yoongi’s gaze directed towards you. This makes you laughter halt immediately and you just stare back. After a small moment, when your friend nudges you to do something, you just bashfully look down at your hands and muster up the courage to at least wave. Nothing much, just a wave and as much a friendly smile as you can muster. Your hopeful when you notice he starts waving back, because that means you weren’t just imagining things. However, your face starts to morph into confusion when you notice some girl grabbing a hold of his attention. 

“Did she just vajay-block you?” your friend asks. Any other time you would’ve just laughed and maybe snort, but it only just brings forth a small quirk of the mouth. 

“Block what? We were just waving at each other,” you brush off. Deep down though, you feel a pang at disappointment, though you don’t expect him ignore others just because you guys have a small moment. You’re sure that your face shows this, because your friend just rubs you on the back.

“Hey, you’re going to do fine,” she says softly. 

“How? I can barely wave at him without being shy about it, and she just flat out, practically sprinted towards him,” you counter, and you want to slump in your spot. You can’t help but to take mental notice of her appearance too. She’s petite, with long soft wavy hair, that’s gray with subtle lavender highlights, olive skin, hazel eyes, and just overall beautiful. You abruptly stand up, get you book bag, and exit stage left with your friend right behind you.

Sipping on your third cup of coffee for the day, you’re seated in front your homework for the week, and reading your textbook diligently. You’re at a Starbucks a block away from your university and letting the breeze hit you outside, because the inside is too crowded. You pay no mind to the strangers passing you by and trekking up the steps to get inside the warm building. All you want to do is eat your favorite chips, sip coffee, finish some work for the day, and get on with your life. However, you’re confused when someone stops by your table.

Taking the chance to look up, your eyes grow wide when you see Yoongi smiling down at you. His platinum blond hair is covered in a black beanie, and he’s sporting a white Nike sweatshirt with matching bottoms, and the sleeves pushed up his forearms. The look compliments his athletic habits, and your heart almost skips a beat, and you want to look away before you body doesn’t want to.  At some point, the silence is moving sluggishly, and you start to feel subconscious. Your mind begins to nit-pick everything you feel like are flaws. You hair hasn’t been the most cooperative today, so as time went along, you just wrapped your hair into a cute donut bun, though it’s—to you—noticeably wanting to gain friz. You think you may be slightly bloated, and somewhere around lunch, you’re sure that your matte lipstick has started to dry and is cracking, though you’ve haven’t noticed any real damage done. 

You’re not sure what to say, and almost go back to reading when neither of you say anything. As you start to brush him off, you notice the confusion in his eyes, and Yoongi steps closer to your table and knocks on the wood. “Hi, I think I saw you at my—the basketball game at the park earlier,” he says, looking hopeful. His smile is brought back, and you almost get the lost in the charm of his eyes before you respond. 

“Yeah, hi,” you reply and stand, while holding out your hand to shake his, “My name’s—”

“Y/N, I know. We have a few classes together,” he grins and latches onto your hand, and you notice a small blush form on his alabaster skin. You just nod, but no words come out, and you’re both left in silence again. With his hand still in yours, and you notice how his long fingers caress your hand softly. He gives your hand a small squeeze, “Well, I noticed that you’re studying and don’t want to be in the way, so I’ll just go get coffee and then leave.” You smile and just nod again. 

“See you around,” you say hopefully, and he gives you a bright smile and says that he hopes so. As he leaves, like clockwork, the giddiness returns and you wonder where your firm stance to stop crushing on him went. Nonetheless, though you fight the smile trying to take control of your face, you also want to squeal a little. 

Low and behold, you guys do meet again the next day. Only a few hours after dawn, of all the days you try to sleep in, you accidentally start your day late and in a frenzy. You have to speed through the halls of your campus building to not miss your test. The moment you turn a corner and feel yourself bump into another person, you brace yourself to apologize profusely and possibly crash onto the floor. However, on impact, someone catches you in their arms and helps you to regain your balance and not fall. “Woah,” Yoongi chuckles, and you feel like the day couldn’t start off any better, “somewhere to be?” 

“My first class this morning starts with a test I’ve been cramming for, and I can’t afford to miss it,” you reply, and try not to wheeze all over him. You want to hide your face and just be swallowed into a hole. You wanted to sprint to him, but not run him over. That, and he still hasn’t let go. You have to shake your mind out of the fog, when you start to notice how good it feels to be his arms and how it’d be to cuddle with him for real. 

He gives exceptional hugs, you feel. 

“Which class?” he investigates.  

“(Major of choice),” you reply, and try looking everywhere but his face. 

“Let me escort you, this way you don’t run into anyone else,” he suggests, and again has this hopeful look about him as he stares at you. 

The close proximity hasn’t gone missed between you two, and you feel like he notices too. He draws the features of your face into in his mind, as you do his and the tension is getting suffocating. You urge yourself to just say something, or better yet just get him to let go. Politely separating yourself from his arms, and you catch a draft after doing so, you smile your usual polite smile and say yes. 

Just as you both begin walking in the direction of your class, you remember the time or the lack thereof you have, and start speeding up with him right behind you. Coming up on the door, you barely turn around to thank him and enter the silence of the classroom. You quickly find your way to your desk, and thankfully, though you’re only a minutes late, your professor into present yet, so you can breathe peacefully. Yet, you’re heart picks up pace again when you see Yoongi peeking through the classroom door looking for you, and when your eyes meet, he gives you a thumbs up and waves bye. 

"Aw, you guys are so cute,” your friend squeals. “So when’s baby daddy gonna put a ring on it?”

“You’re something else,” you laugh, but aren’t mad at the thought.

“You know I’m just teasing, girl,” she reassures and smiles, “but on the real though, I’m happy for you.”

“Nothing’s happened yet.”

“Can we get something happening then? Maybe a study date? Movies? Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Oh, I know. A date a the skating rink,” she suggests, and brushes her shoulders off, proud of herself. “It’s perfect. Nothing too secluded, you get a chance to talk, and you can bond at the same time.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that yet,” you counter, but wonder what you’re waiting for.

“No one holds somebody for that long, or even better, escorts them to class, if they aren’t interested,” she reinforces.

“I don’t know,” you reply, and play with your food. Today, you and f/n decided to eat lunch in the cafeteria, just to have a change of scenery. That, and once f/n revealed to you that a source of hers mentioned that Yoongi eats here every once and while, you thought to yourself, ‘why not?’ Unfortunately though, you haven’t seen Yoongi yet or since this morning, so you start to lose hope.

"You don’t know what? If you don’t mind me asking,” Yoongi adds himself in your conversation, and you’re startled enough to jump when you weren’t expecting him. He sits himself between you two and starts digging into his own. From his sweaty appearance and the sweat towel around his neck, you assume he just finished playing basketball. His muscles outline slightly from the sweat on his white t-shirt, he has on basketball shorts, and this time a snap back as well. He’s very skinny, but still lean and in shape. You just look towards f/n and she smiles cutely.

“Yoongi, how are you? I’m y/n’s friend, f/n. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she introduces herself.

“To finally meet me? Has y/n mentioned me to you a few times?” he quizzes and you catch the peeking he does through his lashes towards you.

“Only just several times,” she confirms, and you almost throw something at her. You can tell she’s feeling cheeky, and you’ll have to watch her.

“Not that often, and really just about your crazy basketball skills,” you reassure, and suddenly your lunch looks a lot more interesting.

“How are your skills off the court? Care to show my friend? I think she’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

If you weren’t such a nice person, you had been snatched her by her edges. You just laugh it off, “You’re doing too much, stop talking. I promise we’re not that weird,” you say to Yoongi. He chuckles at whole spectacle, and you almost want trap his laugh and save it for rainy days.

“Nah, just thirsty,” she retorts. At this he tilts his head and you can see he confusion in his face. You hope with everything you are that he doesn’t understand. His first language isn’t English, so if you’re lucky, that term could’ve just flown over his head.

You almost choke on your food, and decide to toss her your half empty water bottle, “I’ll give you the ocean, if you just shut up.”

“Well, then you’re in luck. I have to leave to go do a thing.”

“What thing? You don’t have a thing,” you say, and produce the saddest puppy dog eyes you can, so as to stop her from leaving.

“Silly y/n, if I want to have a thing, then I’ll have a thing,” she playfully scolds you. “My life doesn’t revolve around you, honey. Now, when we can have a double date, then we’ll talk,” she pushes in the last part quickly and then jogs out of your reach. Watching her hair sway as she leaves, you want to drag her back to the table, because you’re not sure how to act around Yoongi.

“Why don’t we have a thing?” he inquires and looks at you directly, and you witness a smirk form on his lips.

“We? Uh,” you respond, but barely. “Like, what do you mean?” You gulp discreetly.

“Anything we want, really. I don’t mind, as long as I can spend that thing with you,” he smiles and stares at you endearingly. At that, you could almost fall into his lap without clear reasoning, aside from the fact that you like him that much. You wonder how he does it.

“How about we go to the skating rink downtown? Have a thing?” you suggest. Your mouth stretches into its own smile.

“I don’t skate, but for you, why not?” he agrees and wipes his hands on his shorts. “Well, I have to go do an actual thing that involves studying, but give me your phone and we can make plans.”

“I look forward to it,” you reply and hand him your phone with the contact info form open.

“Feelings mutual,” he says and gets up for the table. Throwing his gym bag over bag over his shoulder, he walks backwards and grins his charming smile at you again, “See you around.” You wave to him this time.

After spending 2 hours with f/n trying to pick out a cute, but casual outfit for your date, you’re giddy during the whole drive from your home. You fortunately find a parking space not too far from the building, and walking around the block to get to the front entrance, you’re surprised when you see Yoongi already standing outside the venue. His hands are fiddling with his phone and he doesn’t see you walking up to him. However, you see him nice and clearly and your stomach does flips. He isn’t in anything that you haven’t seen him wear before, or that’s different from his laid back style, yet every time you see him, you can’t help but to feel excited and butterflies churn. “Did I come late?” you inquire, seemingly startle him.

He chuckles, and shakes his head, as his signature smirk shows through. “Nope, my friends just dropped me off early because they had something else to do,” he replies. “Ready to have fun?”

“I thought you didn’t consider this as fun,” you remind him, and lead the way inside. He treads beside you.

“It isn’t, but someone may as well have fun laughing at me, as I fall on my butt.”

“It won’t be that bad,” you try to encourage him.

“Just wait.”

After paying for the shoes you guys are going to rent for the occasion, you notice that after he laces them on and then tries to stand, but continues to fall back into his seat, that he’ll have some issues.  You, yourself though, have no problems standing and you grab both of his forearms to help him up as well. He’s wobbly on both feet and can’t stop looking at the ground to make sure he doesn’t fall. “You’ll do fine. However, I think we should take it slow.” You look in to his eyes, and he stares back and then nods. “First let’s just walk over to the ice, and just try standing on it.”

From then on, it was a hit or miss of a lesson. When he walked out on to the ice, he couldn’t stop using the wall as a supporting crutch in order to keep standing. He’d sometimes hold onto your hands, and you’d help him glide over the ice at a snail pace. Once you let go, if he had no momentum, he’d just be at a stand still. No need to try and move forward by himself, because he’d always lose his balance, and it’d be the end after that. Multiple times you’ve watched him fall and get back up. Fall, then get back up. However, as time continued to pass, your muscles in your feet, legs, and including abdomen from laughing so much, began to hurt and you knew Yoongi was already fed up with everything, if not including life. “Ready to leave?” you ask, while checking the time on your phone.

“We’re leaving already?” he responds with a tremble in his throat, as he tries to get back up from falling on the hard surface. Anytime he’d think he’d have a foot secure underneath himself, and then try to stand on the other, it’d slide back and he’d be on all fours.

“Well, it’s been three hours since we’ve arrived,” you reply, and chuckle. “Come on, Bambi,” you coo and grab a hold of his hands. He starts to stand on one foot and then the other, and now he’s at least still and not one the ground.

“See? Told you you’d get a knack out of this,” he rolls his eyes, but his smile never leaves his face. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed.”

“Well, time flies when you ‘re having fun,” you smile and swing his hands in yours. “Shall we go?” Leading him back to the rest are, you’re careful to not pull him too fast and then help him to a nearby seat. You saunter to the counter to pick up your guys’ shoes, and when you get back to Yoongi, he already has his skates off and looking at his feet concerned. “Break something?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “my tail bone and pride,” he jokes.

You hand him his shoes and start to take off your own skates. “Maybe next time we should do something else? I don’t want you to force yourself to come with me here and not really enjoy yourself,” you suggest.

“I’d come here a million times if you asked me,” he says, and laughs at his own corniness, while trying to smooth out your insecurities about bring him.  

You smile a long with him, but are glad that your face is hidden. With the pigment of your skin, no one can really see if you blush, but you’re sure your face would still speak a thousand words if he were to see it then. “While I appreciate the gesture,” you say and stand on your feet in your own shoes, “I’m not trying to destroy your bruised tail bone. How about you choose the next destination?”

“Fine, I like that idea,” he agrees, and looks back down at his feet. “That reminds me. Can you give me a ride back home? My friends are still probably out, and it’d take them too long to pick me up.” That catches you off guard, but you not sure if you mind too much, because then you’d get to spend more time with him. Needless to say, you’re hoping that he feels the same way.  

Surprisingly enough, going to the ice skating rink with Yoongi was more fun than you anticipated.First, he was the perfect gentleman, you guys could always find something to talk about and you were both interested in keeping the conversation going. It wasn’t forced, or too awkward. Anything you could talk about on a first date, you did. There cute moments of whispering nothings into each other ears and just laughing at the gall you both had. There were giggles. There were times when he’d fall into your arms, so <i>he</i> wouldn’t fall, and you trying not stare so blatantly into his eyes. It was perfect, to say the least, yet still odd to think about. 

Secondly, you both are so different, you weren’t entirely sure how everything would fair. If not for the cultural differences, then for the more obvious, outward reasons. He had the pick of anyone he’d probably want, and here you two were. You still question yourself, ‘why?’ You know you shouldn’t have thoughts like those, but it takes time to reverse that sort of mentality. Every once and while, it can come with dating outside of your race. Sometimes you consciously—or even subconsciously—slip into that frame of mind, when you feel unworthy or not “his type.” Then there are moments when you’re proud to say that you catch yourself, and not let such defeating thoughts bring you down. You’ve found that if you were to ask yourself, if f/n were to ask you if she were worthy enough, and you wouldn’t say those self-defeating thoughts to them, then why do it to yourself? It’s never easy, and knowing your worth takes time, but it can be achieved. 

The drive back to his place is silent, and in your opinion, more awkward between you both than before. As you’re driving past green lights and other cars, you notice he’s less talkative. His body is with you, but you wonder if his mind is somewhere else. Did he not have fun? Did he regret the date? Should you have even gotten your hopes up? What’s wrong? Around 15 minutes later, you pull your around the corner of the apartment building he stays in, because parking in limited. Finally finding a parking spot, you reverse park into the space and turn off the engine, but the radio could still be heard playing in the background. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. He turns to you in the passenger seat and looks at you undauntingly. 

You’re not sure if you want to look back at him because his stare could sometimes be intimidating. Though you know not on purpose, but because…well…that’s just how his face and eyes work. Gathering up the courage, you take a deep inhale and look back him with your own searching eyes. Upon his direct stare, you almost freeze, but talk nonetheless. “For what?”

“Being like this,” he uses his hands to gesture at himself, “Awkward. Even more than I was before. Non-talkative.”

“Um, it’s okay. I mean if you didn’t enjoy yourself, I won’t force you to be all happy go lucky,” you reply, and then look back ahead of yourself. There isn’t much to see, but you’d rather look at the cars parked ahead of you and the street. At least then if your eyes get the slightest bit of glassy, he won’t be able to tell and he won’t have to feel sorry for you. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says immediately after you say your piece. “This is probably one of the best nights I’ve had in a while, but I’m not apologizing because of tonight. I’m saying I’m sorry because I know I’ve just made things unnecessarily weird between us. Back at the rink, I was a lot more open and had more to say, but that’s because my mind didn’t have to work overtime to find something to talk about. Everything flowed a lot nicer when we were just talking about anything and everything at the top of our minds, and when we both had to focus on me not seeming like a total idiot in front of you. Not to say that falling on my butt should be a conversation starter,” and you snort, “but it was just easier. Now that our attention is fully on one another, I can’t seem to think of anything to say that’s cool or funny, and I’m overthinking everything I think I should say.” He takes a deep breath and asks in a low voice, if that even makes since. “I’m nervous. I’m sorry.”

In a way it made since, and yet didn’t at the same time, but you’re at least happy to hear that he truly did enjoy himself. “It’s fine.” You say, and look back him. His eyes appeared to had gotten softer, and the tension you didn’t even notice, also left his shoulders. 

He turns back around slowly, “I guess I should get going then.” Was that it? “I think I should leave now before I make myself seem even more uncool than you probably already think I am,” he chuckles. No one makes any sudden movements, but at the last second, you do. 

Opening the driver’s side door, you step out into the brisk air. Your body is protesting the cold, but your insides are burning. You don’t do something like this often, but you don’t want to let the night end like this. You’re aware of the attraction between you two. You’ve seen it, obviously have experienced, and you want to put it to the test. Right now. Walking around your car you meet Yoongi, who’s already standing outside of the vehicle because you left, on the passenger side of your car. “Anyway, thank you for—“ you halt his words with your delicate kiss. Nothing forceful, but purposeful and straightforward. Your hands are on his biceps, and they glide up his arms and around his neck and head, where one of your hands relish in the softness of his hair. His hands find themselves on your waist, and he leans into the kiss too. Your lips mingle with one another. They feel. They caress. They’re tender to its recipient, and careful to not scare either away. As several seconds pass by, you finally pull away and he follows your warmth an inch, wanting more but he holds himself back. You smile at his eagerness, and see that his eyes are still closed, and your foreheads are touching. “Thank you. You’re really a good kisser,” he admits, and then smiles to himself. “Tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.” 

Your own smile spreads uncontrollably onto your face, and you separate yourself from his grasp. “Have a good rest of your night,” you say and start walking back to the driver’s seat of your car.

“Really? How could you say that, knowing that you’re the best part of it?” he asks, and his famous smirk shows back on his face. “See you around?” 

“You think I’d stay away now?” you ask cheekily, and get into your car. He waves bye as you drive away, and you can’t wait for tomorrow to come.

“Aren’t you guys the cutest ever?” f/n exclaims and dances in her seat. “I’m so happy for you!” You’re both at you guys’ favorite lunch spot, while working your own separate school assignments. School isn’t letting up, and between that and work, you wonder if there’ll be any free time soon. “So, when’s the next date?”

You laugh at her blatancy, “It’s only the next day.”

“And? Didn’t you two already talk about it this morning, when he texted you ‘good morning’ this morning?” she raises her eyebrows teasingly at you, trying to hint at something. But you stopped her in her tracks.

“It wasn’t like that,” you insist, “we haven’t gotten that far and it’d be too soon.”

“Not too soon for a smooch, which by the way, I’m impressed,” she laughs.

“You seem more happy than me.”

“Hardly! Girl, you were practically glowing this morning,” she giggles.

“I wasn’t,” you retort.

“Glowing like the sun so much, I almost regret not bringing my shades today.” You just shake your head at her, but the smile still hasn’t left your face, and you get back to work.

At the moment, it seems like you have too many assignments to start, and not enough time to finish what you’ve been working on for a few weeks, but you get to work anyway, before your next class. At this rate, you wonder if you’ll ever meet Yoongi again anytime soon. Like that, days turned into weeks, and they transitioned into a little over a month. Your encounters never lasted for anything over a few minutes every blue moon, but your texting conversation continued to go strong. Little words here or there were sent throughout your days, and you figured you should at least be happy with that. Neither of you really had time, and even f/n was having a hard time keeping up her life and school.

Sitting in the library, you’re taking notes diligently until you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your timer’s just gone off after two hours, signaling for you stop your research and to move on to another assignment for the night. It’s almost 10 pm right now, and the day’s activities has already been settled into your body. Your hands are feeling cramped, your back hurts from sitting hunched for too long, your feet are feeling sore from getting up and going every place known to man, and your eyes a beginning to feel heavy with sleep. You bring your coffee cup up to your mouth and drink down the lukewarm caffeine. You sigh and lean back into your chair. You think yourself that you only have two things to do before the night ends and then maybe you get to sleep at around 1 AM tonight. You’re groaning.

Sitting forward again, and leaning on your elbows on the table, you start to type again but onto a whole other chart of numbers and statistics that are fusing together. Slowing getting to the flow groove of just working, your phone vibrates in your pocket again. Absentmindedly, you bring it up to line of sight, and you take a quick glance at the front and notice it’s a text from Yoongi. Here goes the cheesy smile again. “What are you doing?” he inquires.

Your frown and look back at your laptop screen. “Studying.

Is it for anything important?

You almost laugh, “I think so. Ive heard rumors of students who didnt complete their assignments and fail the semester miserably.

Sounds important, then.” You nod your head ‘yes’ slightly and begin to look back down at your homework, until you hear a text being sent to you. “Want to ditch?

As tempting as that is, I cant. I have too much to do and at stake,” you reply, disappointedly.

Come on~” he starts. “What can a 20-minute break do to you?

Against your better judgement, knowing it’d be longer than twenty minutes that you’d spend with him, you still text him back agreeing, and ask him where to meet. You’re surprised when he tells you to come to the basketball court. Nonetheless, and not caring too much about his request because you want to leave the library, you pack up your stuff.

5 minutes into the stroll and coming closer to the court, you’re surprised when you see him and few other guys playing. You don’t make any sudden movements for him to catch your attention, and just watch silently off by the sidelines. Some of these guys he’s playing with you haven’t seen before, and you’re not sure if they go to your university or not. Another five minutes pass before Yoongi calls for a time out, and jogs over to you. “Enjoying the game?” he asks panting. His hand are placed on his hips and he walks over to his bag to grab the towel that sitting haphazardly on top of it. He wipes off the waterfall sweat that falling into his eyes, and then stands closer to you. “Want to meet my friends?”

“Why not?” you reply, and he starts yelling and waving everyone closer to you both. Understandably, you’re a little nervous. Will you like them? Will they like you?

“They’re weird, but you’ll like them,” he smiles.

“Is this the famous y/n? Do you know he talks about you nonstop?”  the tallest of the guys asks. His hair is a deep brown and he’s more muscly, but about as lean as Yoongi, and with broader shoulders.  

“Hopefully you only hear good things,” you chuckle.

“I don’t talk about her nonstop,” Yoongi retorts.

“Nope, you just have this greasy smile on your face whenever you start texting her,” another man speaks up and, and runs his hand through his light pink hair. Odd color, but whatever floats his boat. “Hi, my name is Jimin.” He smiles and brings forth his hand to shake yours.

You’re polite and introduce yourself back., while shaking his hand “I’m y/n.”

“Don’t forget about me.” Another voice shouts, but is deeper than the rest so far. He jogs up to you and takes your hand in his too. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” You tell him it’s nice to meet him and introduce yourself as well.

Then another male jogs to the group. “I’m Namjoon,” he pants and nods his head to you, with a dimpled smile showing through.

Then another male bumps into him whom is slightly taller. “I’m Jungkook.”

“And I’m Hoseok,” someone else voices, and the crowd has to part slightly for him to come through. “My sister-in-law, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You giggle, and probably look confused. You glance at Yoongi, but he doesn’t notice and he throws Hoseok a ‘Really?’ sort of look. “I will remember this day.” He runs his hands through his hair, and puts his hands on his hips. “Want to play?” he directs his words at you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think it’d the best idea.” You’re not horrible at basketball, but you don’t really play either. If anything you just enjoy the game and actually know how the game works for the most part.

“Nonsense, I’m sure you will be great. Do you want to be on my team?” Taehyung suggests. His English isn’t broken, but it sounds a little garbled. His accent is semi thick, but you can understand him.

“No thank you,” you shake your head again. He looks a little disappointed, but he just nods his head understandably. To you, you’re not in the best position to be playing when you’re not that great at it and your feet ache. That, and you’re dead tired.

“Can we play?” you hear another voice, but that’s feminine. Your line of sight moves around some of the guys heads and you notice that it’s the gray-haired, hazel-eyed beauty, as well as a group of her friends—you’re assuming at least. Everyone turns around to see who the voice belonged to and one of the guys, you think Jungkook, goes to give the girl a side hug.

“You’re here,” he exclaims.

“You thought I wouldn’t come? And miss this game?” she purrs. “You must be out of your mind.” Well this is an unexpected turn of events, and you want to fight to not roll your eyes. You’re not sure where the feelings are coming from, but you’re jealous. She’s pretty, can play basketball—apparently—and probably knows everyone better than you do. As you watch all of Yoongi’s friends greet the ladies that have just arrived, you wonder if you missed your chance at having a decent friendship with them too. It’s a strange thought, but you almost feel out of place.  

“I didn’t know you had invited them,” Yoongi says with a smile. Is he excited to have them here too? Did he forget you that quick? This pricks you in the heart a little bit.

“Yes. I invited them because I thought that since y/n was coming, why not invite more people? This way there could be a girl and boy team,” he replies and shrugs. Jungkook looks towards you. “Y/N, I know that you don’t feel up to it. So, if you don’t want to play, you can just sit this one out and watch on the bench.” Nope. You won’t.

“You know what? I actually have to get back to the library to study, so I’m going to go. Thank you for the offer though,” you smile to everyone, and they look confused by why you’re suddenly leaving. Even the girls that have come look confused. “Have fun.” You look at Yoongi, and he stares back at you with a slight frown. You start walking back to where you’re thinking you should’ve stayed in the first place.

You tell yourself that you don’t need to put yourself in that vulnerable state by staying there, but you also wonder why you didn’t try harder. Fight for him harder. Did she even like him like how you assumed? Why disqualify yourself so early in the game? You laugh at yourself a little. You’re not sure why you’re like this.

After coming back to the library and then studying for an additional hour, you start to pack up your things and decide to finish your work at home. You saunter to your car and get into the drivers side of the vehicle. You sit for a second. You’re tired and you don’t want to move, but you don’t want to stay in the school parking lot either. So you start your car and give it a few minutes to heat up. At the last second before you put the car in drive, someone knocks on the passenger side of car. You jump, and look at who knocked. It’s Yoongi.

He points at the passenger seat of your car, and you oblige. You’re not sure why. He climbs in and looks at you pointedly. “Why’d you leave?” You know he didn’t mean it in a demanding or blaming way, but you already feel guilty for leaving so fast anyway. Of course, you’re sad for going because you didn’t even give yourself a chance, but you didn’t want to stay either.  

“I just wanted to leave, okay? I have to study, and again, I can’t play basketball. So, me being there wouldn’t do anyone good.” You look away and lean back in your seat. You don’t feel like having this conversation right now, and you feel like it shows on your face and in your posture.

He sighs, and looks ahead of himself, taking his eyes off you. “You’re right, you can leave when you want to. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s been a long night. But I really have to go, so,” you say, and leave your sentence hanging in midair.

“It’s not alright,” he insists, and looks back at you. “I didn’t know Jungkook was going to invite those girls.”

You snort. You’re happy that he understands why you left, as well as are a little embarrassed, but you brush it off. “Yoongi, it’s fine. You can play with whomever you want to. It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Unless it’s with a person of the other gender.” You look at him surprised, and his signature smirk shows up.

“I’m not jealous,” you start out, “but I’m glad you understand.” You both laugh and it reminds you of the laughs you both had at the rink.

“So, Hoseok was right.”

“About what?”

“He told me that you had looked a little disappointed when the girls came,” he says and looks at you sadly. He leans back in his seat as well and caresses every detail of your face with his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s the point. I didn’t do anything. I should’ve gone after you, even after the smidgen of a hint that you didn’t like what was happening. How am I going to be your boyfriend if I can’t even figure these little things out?” Your eyes widen significantly and you mouth to him ‘boyfriend?’ He nods haughtily.  

“I just never expected you to say it out loud,” you respond and giggle.  

“Well, I figured I shouldn’t beat around the bush and just say it up front. I like you, a lot, and you don’t have to wonder about it either.”

“So, what does this mean?” you ask, while simultaneously trying to fight the smile off your face.  

“It means, I take you another date fast before I miss my chance with you,” he smiles endearingly.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Everything, but going skating again.” He chuckles, and you almost get lost in his eyes. It happens when you’re around him.

As you’re both having a moment, your back door behind Yoongi’s opens. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need a ride home,” Taehyung pants, and sits down cozily in the back.

“So do I,” another voice pipes up, and you notice that Jungkook is standing beside Taehyung. Taehyung scoots over for Jungkook to get in too, and then Jimin tells Jungkook to scooch over as well.

Jimin climbs into the vehicle, and then looks up at you all smiley and expectant. “I hope you don’t mind.”  

You glance towards Yoongi, and he calmly looks like he wants to murder somebody. “Why not? We weren’t having a moment,” he says tightly.

“Well then, we’ll just make ourselves comfortable,” Jimin laughs.

“Y/N, can you play any music?” Jungkook asks.

“Just let me pick, they always choose what we listen to,” Taehyung complains. That’s how your night with Yoongi starts and ends. With three of his so-called toddlers—his words—bickering and giving you a headache, but also a smile you welcomed.  

The end. 

Tender Loving Care

Pairing: Morgan x Reader

Word count: 1,345

Request: NO

Warnings: a bit smutty sorry not sorry

Summary: Y/N has never had sex before but it’s Derek’s birthday, so she decides she’s ready to let him take her virginity.  The entire time, he is careful not to hurt her and is really gentle and loving.  Features a tender loving Derek Morgan in bed.  Get ready.

Originally posted by imaginesandmoreforfandom

Your phone rings, startling you.  It’s Derek.  

“Hey,” you say after you pick it up.

“Hello, gorgeous.  Hope you’re not too lonely,” he replies through the phone, the sound of his voice making your heart pick up pace.  Since you’re on the phone, though, it’s easy to pretend you aren’t nervous about his birthday surprise.

“Well, actually I was just finishing up wrapping your birthday gift,” you tell him.  You can practically hear him smile.

“Now, I told you that I didn’t need you to get me anything,” he says.  You smile and roll your eyes.

“Hurry up and come home.”

“Yes ma’am.  I’ll be about fifteen minutes,” he says and hangs up.  Your smile slowly fades as you look around the bedroom you’re standing in.  Candles are lit on the bedside table and the dressers, giving the room a slight, sultry glow and you’ve laid rose petals all over the bed.  Once you put the phone down, you pull your robe a bit tighter to your body, wanting to wait to reveal yourself to your boyfriend.

You grab the last bag of rose petals and start forming a path from the bedroom to the front door.  You decide to light a few more candles and set them around the petals, making the path more obvious.  Once you finish with that, you turn off all the lights in the apartment, letting all the tiny flames be the only source of light. 

Nerves begin to take over as the clock ticks closer and closer to 9:45, the time Derek said he would arrive home.  Within that time, you decide to touch up your makeup in the bathroom while waiting for his arrival.

It’s two minutes till 9:45 when you hear the front door open and your name being spoken by your boyfriend, but as soon as he was fully in the door, he shut his mouth.  You quickly turn the bathroom light off and re-enter the bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed, right in front of the door.  You hear Derek set his keys and bag down in the living room and soon, his footsteps are making their way to the open door of the bedroom.

“Y/N?” he asks before he enters.  He’s met with the sight of you in your robe standing, waiting for him.

“Happy birthday,” is all you respond.  You manage to keep your voice calm and try not to show that you’re in any way nervous.

“Damn,” he replies.  He’s looking you up and down, wondering what is underneath that silky fabric.  “You said you had a present for me?” he asks with a smirk.

You smirk back.  “Why don’t you come unwrap it?” you say, gently tugging at the top of the robe to reveal more cleavage.  His sigh of pleasure fills the room as he makes his way over to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you to him for a warm, tender kiss.  In no time, he finds the strings at your front and pulls, revealing the red lacy lingerie you had bought secretly the day before.  Leaning back, he he takes you in, savoring every inch of your perfect body.

“Damn, what did I do to deserve this masterpiece?” he asks, more to himself than to you.  His praise for you makes you blush and look down at your bare feet.  Derek slowly removes the robe from your shoulders, leaving you feeling very exposed.

“I wanted to give you something very special since it’s your birthday,” you tell him, glancing up up at him through your lashes.  Shyness is quickly taking over your body and you can feel the firm and brave front you wore only moments before begin to crumble at your feet.

“Baby girl, you know I can wait for you as long as you want.  I’ve told you, there is no amount of time too long.”  His arms are on your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms.

“I’m ready Derek.  I love you.”  You finally meet his eyes, his dark face barely lit by the glow of the candles.

“I love you, too, y/n.  So much,” he replies, stepping closer so that you back up to the bed.  He grabs your hands and guides them to the hem of his shirt.  Just as you sit down on the edge of the bed, you lift his shirt to reveal his chiseled form and throw aside the dark material.  Your hands make their way to his belt, slowly undoing it.  His hands are at his sides, waiting for you.

After you have his belt undone, you unzip the fly on his jeans and pull them down around his knees, giving you a full, pleasurable view of his arousal inside his tight briefs.  Derek shifts on his feet to take off his boots, allowing you to bring his pants down the rest of the way and pull them off his feet.  You throw them in the same direction you had thrown his shirt.

You finally look back up into his dark eyes and your heart races even faster.  Slowly, Derek steps back a bit before pulling his own underwear down, revealing his ready erection.  You swallow hard and grab his hands, pulling him to you and kissing him as deeply as you know how.  The kiss is soft at first, but in no less than two seconds, Derek deepens it, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.  It’s wet, messy, and incredibly sexy all the at the same time.  

Both of you are breathing hard now.  After laying you both down onto the bed, Derek reaches behind you to unclasp your bra.  As soon as your chest is revealed, he reaches to gently knead at one before using his other hand to keep his body above yours.

“You’re sure?” he asks gently, quietly.

“One hundred percent,” you answer just as softly.  You grab his neck to pull him down to you, kissing him again.

Between kisses and pants, Derek reaches down to the lacy panties, pulling them down your legs in one swift motion.  You’ve only ever been topless in front of him before, so this is the first time you’ve ever truly been fully exposed to him.  Something about it made you giddy, so you giggle unexpectedly, earning a light chuckle from the loving man on top of you as well.  He kisses you passionately one more time before gently rubbing his tip against your entrance.

“Ready baby girl?” he asks.

You nod enthusiastically and before you know it, he’s inside of you, making you moan slightly.  It was an odd feeling at first, and hurt a bit.  He was incredibly still inside of you, and you knew it was to wait for you to adjust to the feeling.  You gently nod when you’re ready for him to move.  He complies instantly, gently rocking his hips into yours.  It’s slow and soft and incredibly affectionate.  Your heart begins to swell at the idea of how much love you have for this man and he for you.  

Despite his pace, he leans up to look you in the eyes.  “You okay?”

You nod at his question.  It felt so good.  You grab his face again and kiss him more and more as you reach your high.  He’s careful to let you come first, and when you do, it’s a feeling you knew would never be able to be described.  Euphoria takes over your entire being as moans and his name escape your tired lips.

“Fuck,” he says before you feel him twitch.  Thank god you’re on the pill, because you can feel his member release while still enveloped inside you.  His spent body suddenly falls to yours and you are nothing but sweat and limbs tangled together, and you knew that was all you ever wanted to be.

“Happy birthday,” you tell him with a smile.  He chuckles and leans up once more to look at you.

“I am the luckiest man alive,” he admits and pulls you into yet another tender, loving kiss.

MEA fic: Impulse

Summary: Leap first, think later? They’re both a little prone to that. In reaching for each other, they forget about the AI passenger for a moment. Oops.

Characters: Ryder, Liam, SAM

Word Count: ~3600

Rating: Mature / Explicit

Author’s Note: Sex that turns into a minor existential crisis and character study. The NSFW part is right up front, just FYI.

Also on AO3!

Zoe Ryder reaches for Liam out of purest impulse. It’s something about the lost look on his face as he stares at that holo of an old car, two million light-years away and drifting toward them, forever; or something about the yawning emptiness that surrounds her, sometimes; or something about the horrors back at that temple that she’s trying to blot out of her mind. Or all three, most likely.

Whatever it is, it only seems natural to reach out, to brush her cheek against his, and when their lips meet, she thinks, for just a second, Oh.

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