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e-dubbc11 · 2 years ago

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I’ll See You Again

Two of the pictures aren’t mine, they are courtesy of Pinterest/Google. The other two are pics of my dog.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: This is just SAD. Matt being supportive and caring and all the things that he does to comfort you. Euthanasia, seizure disorder mention

Word Count: 2749-ish

Summary: You’ve had your sweet little boy dog for 15 years, his quality of life has deteriorated and you’ve made the decision to have him put down.

A/N: So I wrote this as a kind of a way to process my grief. Some of you might know that I had to put my dog down last week and I cried a bunch of times trying to write this but I felt like I needed to do it. If I tagged you and you don’t feel like reading it because of the subject matter, I totally understand. And I’m sorry if this is bad, and written poorly, it really isn’t my best work. I just needed to get it out so maybe I could start to feel a little better.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments are welcome and encouraged. 💕💕💕

“How old is he, sweetheart?” Matt asked you as he tilted his head and outstretched his arm to find the little ball of tri-color fur sleeping a couple feet from him on the couch. He managed to find one of Zeke’s floppy ears and commented on how soft it was.

You smiled as he did so, his thick calloused fingers gently scratched at your little guy’s ear while he picked his sleepy head off of the couch cushion and sniffed Matt’s hand. Zeke didn’t see or hear very well anymore so he relied heavily on his beagle nose more than ever now.

“He turned 15 this year. Remember his birthday was in February, Matty?” He smirked a little and nodded his head like you had jogged his memory when you mentioned February.

Matt had been in your life for the past two years which meant he had been in Zeke’s life for that long also.

The breed was prone to seizures which you didn’t find out about until after you got him. When Zeke was around 18 months old, he had his first seizure, you had no idea what was going on, the panting, the drooling, his eyes rolling back into his head, and it all scared you to death.

Since then, he’s been on a couple different medications to keep his seizures under control, just recently the vet had added two more meds to his daily routine, and it was just getting to be too much for you.

Zeke had been by your side when you first met Matt. You were waiting for the light to change to “walk.” Staring straight ahead, you felt his tail brush back and forth over your shoe and you looked down to see why he was wagging his tail so quickly.

He was a very friendly dog but he was shy and normally not too fond of men, although you didn’t know why, so you were very surprised to see him wagging his tail and looking up at this handsome stranger wearing dark red glasses, a nice suit, and carrying a white cane.

“Funny, he usually doesn’t like men very much. Zeke, no! Don’t paw at his pants like that! I’m sorry, he usually doesn’t do things like that. He must like you. Would you like a guide to help you cross?” You asked him.

That would be the first time Matt smirked at you, the attraction to him was amplified at the sight of his dimple. “Well I like the sound of his owner’s voice. And yes, a guide would be great, thank you.” You traded places with Zeke so he was on your left and Matt took your arm as the light changed to “walk.”

As the small crowd of people dispersed, they left you and Matt standing at the other side of the street alone with Zeke in between the two of you. “Thank you again for being my guide, uh I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” He smiled again.

Oh he knew exactly what he was doing. “My name?” His smile and handsome face were such a distraction. “Oh it’s y/n. It’s nice to meet youuuuu?”

Matt held out his other hand that wasn’t holding his cane to shake yours. “Matt…Matt Murdock.”

And that was how you and Zeke met Matt Murdock.

Zeke was also with you when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen scared off a mugger who attempted to take your purse one night. He came up behind you and tried to take it off of your shoulder, Zeke started to bark, and you tried as hard as you could to hold on to your bag.

And suddenly there he was, a figure dressed in all black with a mask over his eyes, pulled the mugger off of you as your purse fell to the ground. After the thief took off running, the Devil asked “Are you alright?” His voice was low and gravelly.

“Yes, I’m alright. Thank you.” Your little four legged companion started to wag his tail, whine profusely, and tried to walk towards the man who rescued you but he ran out of leash. “What is it, buddy?” Zeke knew who the Devil actually was but before you could question who saved you from the mugger, he was gone.

Matt might have been able to hide things from you but he couldn’t hide them from Zeke who followed his beagle nose to Matt’s bedroom and brought you his black mask while you were sitting with Matt on his couch one night. He dropped the mask at your feet, wagging his tail and he looked like he was smiling. It was almost as if he was proud of himself, like “look mom, look what I found!”

“Matty, what is this? Why do you have—oh my god. You’re—you’re Daredevil and Zeke knew it was you! The guy that tried to take my purse—YOU rescued me. That’s why he was wagging his tail at you!” You exclaimed.

Matt extended his arm, rubbed Zeke’s velvety ear, and took his mask back. “You know what they say about snitches, Zeke.” Your lovable pup sniffed Matt and licked the tip of his nose while wagging his tail excitedly.

There were also quite a few pictures on your phone of Matt napping with Zeke. “I think you’re trying to take my dog away from me, Murdock.” The corners of your mouth turned up and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“He’s like a little weighted blanket, sweetheart. He really does help me sleep.” He seemed surprised.

“Zeke’s good for that. Some of the best sleep I’ve ever had is when he falls asleep on top of me.” Normally, Matt wasn’t a huge fan of dogs but he really loved yours. Zeke was friendly, he loved to cuddle and he hardly ever barked so Matt didn’t have to worry about it being too noisy for him.

The decline had happened rapidly, one minute Zeke was acting like a puppy and the next he needed help going up and down the stairs to the apartment, he was less and less interested in eating, and he had lost some weight. He had to visit the vet more and more and you felt his quality of life was decreasing by the day.

Because Matt’s senses were heightened, he knew Zeke wasn’t well and he didn’t know how to bring it up without you getting upset but he wanted to support you. He came with you to every vet appointment, took time away from work to be with you even though you told him he didn’t have to. “I know how much you love him sweetheart and I love you so I’m going to be there for you whatever you want to do.”

Matt knew he couldn’t make that decision for you, he wished he could take away all your pain and sadness but he did his best. He was there to hold you whenever you needed it, he was there to give you extra hugs, extra kisses, extra “I love you’s”, whatever you needed from him, he gave you.

At every appointment, the vet would listen to Zeke’s heart, Matt didn’t need a stethoscope to know the dog’s heartbeat was slow, almost non-existent. On a particular visit, the vet had said that it would be nice if pets just went quietly in their sleep but most of the time, that doesn’t happen and it had taken you a couple more months and a handful of more vet visits to make the decision to finally put him down.

Matt tried to reassure you that you were doing the right thing, that you gave him a good life for 15 years and he won’t be in pain anymore. “I know it doesn’t make it hurt any less, angel. But his little heart is out of gas but what little he has left, he saves for you. I can hear it, he tries hard every day just for you.”

The tears streamed down your cheeks, you tried to catch them before they fell but there were just too many, Matt was right. Your poor little man was just old and tired, it was time.

Matt made the phone call to the vet for you because you wouldn’t be able to make it through that phone call without sobbing. “Sweetheart, they want to know if you want ashes or not.”

The tears stung the back of your eyes. “Oh, uh yes please. Matty tell them I want his ashes.”

He took his hand away from his phone. “Yes, she would like his ashes please. Thank you, I’ll let her know.” He ended the call and sat down on the couch where you were sitting with Zeke asleep on your lap. “Ok, his appointment is next Wednesday at 4.”

The words were difficult to get out. “Only a week?”

“I guess so, angel. Come here.” He opened his arms to welcome you into his embrace and held you tighter than he probably ever has, kissing your forehead, and trying to reassure you that it’s going to be alright. “I will be there to help you through this, you don’t have to do this alone. I love you.”

What have you done to deserve such a sweet man? He didn’t have to do any of that. He didn’t have to make the phone call to the vet, he didn’t have to agree to come with you to any of Zeke’s appointments and he certainly didn’t have to be there with you when they put him to sleep.

“I love you too, Matty. Thank you…for everything.”

The next seven days were filled with extra everything for Zeke. He got extra walks, extra treats, extra cuddles and kisses until the day you had dreaded finally arrived. His last day, he had bacon for breakfast, he had a nice long walk that he almost didn’t make it all the way through because he was so tired at the end, and Matt made him a tuna steak for his last meal.

It reminded you of the time Matt made himself a tuna steak, you were out on an errand and left him and Zeke alone together. He briefly walked away from his tuna steak to retrieve a fork but it was too late, he could hear Zeke licking the plate clean.

“Well, maybe next time don’t leave your tuna unattended.” You told Matt as he sat sulking on the couch.

So Matt made a tuna steak, just for Zeke.

The ride to the vet’s office was quiet and you probably set a new record for quick glances to the back seat to check on him. Zeke tried to get comfortable but it was difficult, and it had been difficult for some time. He’d keep you awake at night, pacing around because he just couldn’t get in a comfortable position to lay down. Matt reached over to put his hand on your leg to offer a little comfort, to let you know he was there for you.

You let Zeke linger a little longer outside so he could take in all the scents he picked up along the way, because it would be the last time he would smell the grass around the trees, or the flowers in the pots, or all the other animals that walked into the office that day.

“He’s happy, sweetheart. His little heart is weak but I can tell he is very happy, he loves you.” Matt squeezed your other hand that wasn’t holding the leash as you lead Zeke inside and into the exam room where there was a soft looking blanket on the floor.

As you sat in the exam room, listening to the vet explain the procedure, Matt did what he could to ease your pain even if it was just a little bit. He took your hand in his and held it tightly while you watched through tears as your sweet little boy dog was first given a sedative to make him sleepy.

Once that took effect, the tech made him comfortable on the makeshift bed on the floor as you waited for the vet to come in to give him his final doses.

Crouched on the floor, you and Matt took turns stroking Zeke’s soft ears and talking to him even though he couldn’t hear very well anymore, telling him “it’s ok” and “I love you.” After taking a few more minutes to say goodbye, you were ready for the vet to give him his final doses.

Matt could tell when Zeke’s heart stopped, you knew it to by the way his breath hitched but you could tell he was trying to be strong for you.

“Take as much time as you need to, we’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready.” The vet said as they closed the door and left you and Matt alone to say goodbye.

“He’s gone, Matty. He’s gone.” You said through sobs while peppering little kisses all over Zeke’s face and nose. You couldn’t believe he was gone and Matt quietly held you and stroked your hair as you cried into his shoulder.

After a few minutes of silence aside from your crying, Matt finally spoke. “We don’t have to go until you’re ready to. They can wait.”

Giving him one last kiss goodbye, you were finally ready to leave. The vet said they would call in a couple of weeks when his ashes were ready to be picked up and you and Matt drove home.

Everything of Zeke’s was still around your apartment, his food and water dishes, the little bed that he liked to take naps in while you put your makeup on in the morning, he always had to be in the same room you were, you even hung up his leash and collar because you didn’t know what else to do with it.

“Can I do anything for you, sweetheart? Anything at all?” Matt asked warmly.

You just stared at the spot on the couch that Zeke loved to sleep on, it also happened to be Matt’s spot on the couch. “I just want you to hold me, Matty. Please?”

“I can do that.” Matt walked over to the couch and just out of habit, reached down to rub his spot on the couch as if Zeke might be there for him to move away but he wasn’t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just a habit. He loved this spot.” Matt had taken off his glasses and set them down on the coffee table, you could see his eyes were wet with tears. “That’s going to be a tough habit to break, I always had to check to see if he was there before I sat down.”

You smiled a little. “He did love your spot. Thank you for everything, Matt. I don’t think I could have done this alone.”

Matt leaned in close to kiss you on the forehead. “I’ll always be here for you, y/n. And I’ll always be grateful to Zeke for scratching at my pant leg that day.”

You started to tear up again. “Maybe he was looking out for me.”

Matt knew that you needed comfort because for the past 15 years, Zeke was the one thing that gave you comfort and unconditional love any time you needed it but he was gone now.

“Maybe he was, sweetheart. Maybe he was.” He said with a slight smile.

Matt quietly held you and let you cry, his voice was so calm and soothing, he listened as you recalled some stories about Zeke that you thought Matt would like or ones he hadn’t heard before and even if you had mentioned them before, he didn’t say so because through the tears, they still made you smile.

After you fell asleep in his arms, Matt continued to stroke your hair, and draw circles on your soft skin. He didn’t have the heart to move you or wake you so he gently laid you across the couch, and covered you with a blanket, while he moved over to a chair close by.

Before Matt drifted off to sleep, you thought you faintly heard him whisper “It will be a little better tomorrow, angel. Goodnight.”

The Devil slowly closed his eyes and tuned out all of the commotion of Hell’s Kitchen. His city will have to do without him for one night, the most important person that needed his protection was asleep next to him. Matt wanted to be there to pick up the pieces, to make sure you know that there is someone else in your life that will comfort you and show you unconditional love, until the day he dies. He hasn’t told you his plan yet…but he will. He will.

Tag List: @freshabogados @skvatnavle @phoebe-danvers @moonlarking @shedaresthedevil @mindidjarin @matt-erialgirl @nelson-et-murdock @elgrandeavocados @carters-things @myguiltypleasures21 @saintmurd0ck @munsonownsmyass

Others that might enjoy: @1800-fight-me @sobachka-korol @mattmurdockspainkink @wint3r-h3art @mattmurdocksscars @itwasthereaminuteago @hellskitchenswhore

Please please tell me if you’d like to be added or removed from either list and thank you again for reading! 💕

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #charlie cox

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onebizarrekai · 4 years ago

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v3′s art is comically terrible for a professionally distributed game in a series: a compilation

in this not-essay I will list all of the mistakes and problems I have spotted in v3′s art. don’t worry, it’s entirely for fun and I’m doing this on a whim, so please feel free to not take this seriously but also it’s hilarious and embarrassing how ridiculous this is like what happened did they speedrun the whole production or what

see, there are some things you can take as meta like “they made it bad on purpose to allude to the downfall of tv shows that have been on air for much too long” but I have a very strong feeling this is not the case due to the nature of some of these errors

disclaimer, the more I study this art, the more I fear that the artists were underpaid and underslept, so if this is in fact the case, I am so sorry to all of them but also I’m going to make fun of the art anyway

anyway let’s get started!

if you study this image for longer than 5 seconds, you will see that kaede is the only one fully shaded and keebo is literally just his normal sprite pasted into the image. every other character is just an ordinary ref, hence most of them facing the exact same direction with neutral expressions on their faces. it looks like a bad edit, and is probably one of the worst pieces of art in the game. it kind of gets better from here on, but my roasting will not.

with that out of the way, here’s the problem that officially bothers me the most and clarifies my viewpoint of “this is not meta and an actual lack of company communication”

this freaking cg, which seems normal at a glance, but some wiseass was like “oh, kaede is a girl, so obviously she’s going to be shorter than the Male Protagonist™” ah, that’s funny. because if you look at the character bios, kaede is, in fact, one inch taller than shuichi and not like 6 inches shorter as she is shown here.

also shuichi’s shoulder is disproportionate and horrendous and he looks vaguely like a jojo character, but I wasn’t even thinking about that until right now.

thanks guys, 50% of the fandom who has never bothered to check these bios thinks that kaede is like 5′3 (did the developers really put so little thought into her to the point where drawing her correctly in the game didn’t even matter??)

also I would like to point out that, even though this isn’t related to the art itself, yes, a character kaede’s size being only 117 lbs is unfeasible, but this applies to literally every character in danganronpa ever and it’s not new news that it’s unrealistic

update: someone in the tags informed me that in versions of the game that use centimeters, like the japanese version, kaede is actually shorter than shuichi, which just adds another thing to the list of weird decisions the localization team made for no reason. that said, after confirming this, kaede is 167 cm in the original, while shuichi is 171 cm, which are approximately 5′6 and 5′7 respectively, but one inch is still nowhere near as drastic as it is depicted above. (in spite of this, I would rather depict kaede as slightly taller, so I’m probably going to keep doing that.)

the journey continues!

bro if you want kaede to have shoulder length hair then stick to it to begin with

you can pretend this is at an angle all you want but they definitely committed the shorter kaede sin a second time

wait a goddamn second.

DO YOU SEE THIS

no………… it wasn’t kaede who shrank. it was shuichi who got taller

speaking of which, can we talk about how shady the perspective is in this elevator pic? look at shuichi and kokichi in comparison to kaede. kokichi, who is canonically 7 inches (edit: or 5, if you’re loyal to the original) shorter than kaede, looks taller than kaede. he’s growing too. what steroids are these gays taking

running into the room, electric boogaloo: I don’t think tsumugi is supposed to be the same height as kokichi

gonta… gonta you’re lookin a bit like a jojo character there

I love how kaito’s head looks kind of like it was pasted onto his body. why is he the same size as shuichi? shouldn’t he be high school bully size or something? his torso is teensy

ah yes, white angie.

I love this cg but why is shuichi’s right hand so much bigger than his left hand

I also love how this cg looks like they literally took pictures of trees and pasted them into the background, especially on the left. the shadows are so weird, especially closer to the ceiling, it’s difficult for me to believe they didn’t do exactly that.

return of Enlarged shuichi

puberty update: kokichi is now taller than shuichi in spite of shuichi never missing leg day. what crimes will he commit

I have to mention it, guys. this has to be one of the worst danganronpa cgs. kokichi’s facial proportions look atrocious. look at the way his face sticks out like his jaw is in the wrong place. his scarf is a pasted texture. that’s it. this moment was so iconic but the cg just looks so… so… off. like something is terribly wrong, but you can’t put your finger on it.

you know what? let’s get into that ‘pasted texture’ thing.

let’s imagine you’re an artist working on a professional game. you’re assigned to draw cgs of kokichi ouma, who has a checkered scarf from hell. sure, it will be terrible to draw, but you only have to draw it once at a time! plus, perspective is pretty important, right? can you be bothered? nah, actually. let’s just copy paste a checkered pattern into the cg, because I’m sure nobody will notice. it’ll blend right in with the other cgs that someone actually put effort into drawing his scarf in, right?

no. the answer is no and I very much noticed. this genuinely looks terrible and I would understand taking a shortcut like that in fanart or even an indie game but this is a full price pc and console distributed game

(an addition: look at kokichi’s TINY HANDS in that last one)

meanwhile, they straight up forgot to color in kokichi’s scarf in this cg.

dude. I forgot about whatever the hell this cg was. anyway look at keebo please just look at him

lovin kaito’s baby arms

real talk, maybe you could argue that he’s missing muscle because he’s deathly sick, but most of his cgs don’t line up with this, and his arms just look disproportionate to his torso size (granted this is a consistent problem across all danganronpa games and a lot of characters have this weird problem, like hajime, but also kaito is bigger than hajime so I kind of have higher expectations of him) maybe it’s his stupid goatee and the way he reminds me of yasuhiro?? it creates this illusion that he’s older than he is and so I keep expecting him to look more like an adult

oh, also rantaro is missing some of his accessories in that video he made–you know the one–but I don’t wanna go back and screenshot it

also you may have noticed that I’m skipping all of the monokub cgs because I literally do not care about them and I’m not even bothering to check and see if they have artistic mistakes in them

JIMMY NEUTRON???

hey um uh kaito you seem to be missing your neck

hey guys do you like my pregame fanart

so, that done, the sprites are also pretty terrible at times. they’re not as interesting to go through, however, and downloading the full sprite sets for every character and studying every single one of them will drive me insane, so I’ll just sum some of the ones I noticed up. I made things for kaede and shuichi before deciding I wasn’t going to get into it, so here are these.

that said, other mistakes include kokichi missing his purple highlights in all of the sprites encompassing a specific pose, stray pixels all over the place on everyone, and everyone also has heavily inconsistent shading, but literally all I think about is how pregame shuichi is unshaded and two of kaede’s pregame sprites have glaring outfit change mistakes in them

anyway, thank you for taking the time to read my ridiculous ramble. in all seriousness, there’s this looming presence of some lack of communication in the development team, like with all the art and design inconsistencies, pieces and sprites that look rushed, stray pixels, and missing basic proportional stuff. these are the kinds of things that you supposedly have to pretty much have in the bag in order to get jobs in professional businesses, so it’s really weird to me that this game suffers from so many of these problems. it’s like they tried to make the art so much more crisp than the other games, but it fell on its face as they realized it was going to take longer to draw everything and they started to rush. it’s weird, because the coloring itself looks normal–it’s just sloppily drawn, and the proportions are a mess once put into the context of perspective. many of the cgs look like they were drawn by different people, and I’m still not over the fact that half of kokichi’s cgs have his scarf pasted in as a texture.

the moral of the story is that if you’re selling a game at full price that also happens to be in a series that has had 3 very good games in it already the stakes should probably be higher than this. v3 has been out for more than 3 years and it’s still $40 (did it cost more than that before? I sure hope not), and the overarching quality of the game is just not as high as the other games. I’m not saying that the other games don’t have any problems with their art at all, they’re just not as glaringly obvious and every artistic choice in those games feels intentional.

regardless, I had a blast roasting the art at 2am, so maybe you got a kick out of all this chaos.

#god I keep telling myself I'm gonna stop rambling about v3 #v3 spoilers #drv3 spoilers #ndrv3 #random stuff #but making this… it sounded so fun #danganronpa

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prettyboy-asmo · 4 years ago

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Obey me! boys with trans masc MC

Some headcanons about the brothers + Solomon and Diavolo with Trans Masc MC. it’s pretty self-indulgent. Obviously not everyone shares the same experiences with their identity. I took from my own experiences and feelings about things to write these.

TW: Mentions of transphobia (not detailed and not from any of the main characters)

Lucifer

It doesn’t actually come up for some time, not until you realize that you two are definitely getting closer to being intimate.

One night things start to get steamy and when you realize you have to force yourself to not run away. You’re still up and halfway across the room faster than Lucifer thought a human could move. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and you have to make yourself look Lucifer in the eyes.

He’s quick to apologize, thinking he made you uncomfortable- he’s honestly worried he’d hurt you or crossed your boundaries. You assure him that it’s nothing like that. You just need to explain something before things go further.

If you are nervous about telling him, he’ll wait patiently for you to say what you need to say. Reassures you that it changes nothing about how he feels about you. He only cares that you’re happy and comfortable.

“I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me. I know humans can hold some troubling views on the subject.” He’s never really understood a lot of the human hang ups on things like this, but he knows it’s a big deal for some to share the knowledge with others, it takes trust.

What he doesn’t say is how happy he is that you trust him that much (how proud he is,)

Will ask if there’s anything specific you need him to do/not do or anything that you might not have that you want or need. (ie: new binder if you haven’t had top surgery, do you want top surgery? He can make it happen.)

If you’re having a particularly bad time with dysphoria, he’ll straight up ask if there’s anything he can do to help.

He’ll also be sure to call you by your name, or specifically masculine terms

Someone misgenders you on purpose? He doesn’t hesitate to set them straight. No one’s foolish enough to do it again.

Mammon:

He finds out on accident. You’re changing when he barges in your room, saying something about being late for breakfast in his usual loud manner.

He freezes when he finally looks at you, Sees your binder or your scars but honestly it doesn’t really register bc holy shit his human is half dressed and standing in front of him and-poor boy is blushing so hard and is silent because he’s certain he’ll make a fool of himself.

It hadn’t occurred to you until he went quiet that he didn’t know already.

You finish getting dressed and his silence is worrying you at this point. You quietly ask him if he’d like for you to stop hanging around him

That manages to snap him out of his daze and he looks utterly confused. “Why would ya think that?” You try to explain that you’ve had people that have stopped speaking to you because you’re trans, or have even tried to tell you it’s wrong.

“They obviously don’t know anything,” He says, “You’re stuck with the Great Mammon, ya hear? I’m your first guy and you’re my man!” It’s not the first time he’s referred to you as his, but it’s the first time he’s used man instead of human. After that though, he starts doing it more and each time it makes you smile.

“That’s right, That’s my man!” “What took ya so long, man?”

If you’re having bad dysphoria he’s very vocal about calling you his man, reassuring you, and asking what you want in that moment. Stay in and just lay around? Sure. find a distraction? He can think of plenty.

He offers you some of his shirts and jackets. “They suit ya,” he insists, even if they’re big on you, “Gotta make sure my man is staying stylish!” (He won’t admit how happy it makes him to see you wearing his clothes, but you can tell anyways.)

Someone misgenders you to upset you? “What’d you just say to my man?” He’s angry and he’s not about to be quiet about it.

Leviathan:

You mention it off-handedly while discussing your favorite anime and manga.

You’d started talking about one that actually had pretty decent Trans rep, lamenting that it wasn’t more popular because of how much it meant to see someone like you-

Levi catches it immediately, but he doesn’t say anything about- It doesn’t change anything he feels anyway.

He does, however, take time to look for movies, tv shows, games, or anything you might both enjoy that has good Representation.

When you realize what he’s doing you can’t help but hug him tightly and kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush.”I’m glad you’re happy.”

Bad Dysphoria? He’ll drag you to his room to binge anime, play games, and watch movies. He knows the distraction helps.

You’re his Henry, and he’s gonna go the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable, however he can.

If you use a binder and find you need a new one, he’s on top of it- He’ll offer to make one for you so he knows it’ll be the right size and it will be good quality.

Someone misgenders you after being corrected? He checks on you first and asks if you want him to do something about it. If he finds out they did it Maliciously? He’s going to do something about that- reminding everyone in the process that he’s the third eldest (and third most powerful) for a reason.

Satan:

It comes up when you start spending more time with him- studying or getting book recommendations to pass your free time, You can tell when your interactions shift to something more.

He nods when you tell him, “And your pronouns are He/him, correct?”

Asks if there’s anything he should avoid doing, anything you don’t like to be called, He wants to know your boundaries then and there so he doesn’t overstep them.

He spends some time researching. He wants to make sure he understands as much as he can about you, including this- he doesn’t want to ask you directly what your experience in the human realm was, in case it brings up any unpleasant memories.

You notice the change in his reading list eventually and it makes you feel warm knowing that he’s doing it for you. You tell him if he does have any questions he can ask you.

He does ask you if you use a binder and if you’re binding safely.

He also asks if Dysphoria is something you struggle with. If you tell him it is, his line of questioning shifts to things he can possibly do to help you deal with it.

If it’s a really rough day and you admit you don’t want to really do anything, he’ll pick a book to read to you, just so you know he’s there for anything you need, even if it’s just quiet company.

He also becomes a little more vocal, calls you things like dashing or handsome.

If someone misgenders you with ill intent? He’s going to deal with it, and it’s not going to be pretty.

Asmodeus:

He invites you to his room to show you the new outfits he bought. He does it pretty much every time he goes shopping.

This time the first outfit he walks out includes a skirt. You already know Asmo doesn’t believe in gendered clothing, or adhering to any sort of ‘norm’ but it’s the first time you’ve seen it so obviously in person when it comes to his clothes.

“I wish I could wear something like that,” the words are out your mouth before you register them, and you flush even while Asmo giggles. He offers his closet to you and tells you to try something on.

Your hesitance must show, because he frowns a little, looking concerned. “I used to,” you admit, “But people kept telling me that I didn’t need to transition if I liked all that stuff anyways.”

He’s next to you in a second, hand tilting your chin to look at him, “Fuck those people,” he says seriously, “It’s a shame for a man to hide such a delightful body. It’s even worse for him to deny himself things he likes because of ignorant commentary.”

He ends up making suggestions on what to try on, starting with a simple skirt and shirt combo.

You stare at the mirror for a long time, turning occasionally to watch the way the skirt flares up slightly when you do. You catch Asmo smiling behind you in the reflection.

“Do you like it?” You catch his eyes in the reflection, nodding, “I missed the feeling. Thank you, Asmo.”

“Anything for someone as handsome as you,”

If you’re feeling really dysphoric he’ll try to pamper you- want him to brush your hair? Face masks? A relaxing bath? An entire spa day? New clothes? He wants you to feel good about yourself and he knows self care is the first step.

He loves to pick out clothes for you to wear, but he always explicitly asks what style you want, because he wants you to feel as good as you look in anything he picks for you.

If someone misgenders you maliciously or more than once, he’ll have plenty of words with them.

In fact, as it turns out many of his fans will also have words if they catch wind- Asmo loves posting pics with you on Devilgram and taking you to the Fall, so you’ve also become part of many of his fans' lives too.

Beelzebub:

You feel a little self-conscious surrounded by attractive demons- But Beel is a whole other level. He’s tall and solid muscle, and you're envious of it.

You know you could never keep up with his workouts, but you ask if you could join him anyways, and if he could give you some pointers on good workouts for specific goals. He agrees right away, more than happy to help.

It becomes a routine and you look forward to your shared workouts, even if it’s just you both doing your own thing, or Beel giving you pointers on your form or him asking you to record him so he can see how his own form looks.

You’re so comfortable around Beel, that during one of your afternoon workouts you pull your shirt over your head as you stop to take a break and even out your breathing.

“It’s not good to wear a binder while exercising for so long.” Beel’s concerned comment takes you off guard for a moment and you flush, unsure of what to say because he sounds so casual about it, and you aren’t really used to it.

You settle for “Sorry,” and quickly go to tug your shirt back on, but he shakes his head. “You don’t have to. Just rest while I finish up.”

“You’re doing this for you, right? No matter what, You’re a great guy, so don’t push yourself because other people expect it.” You’re surprised when he joins you after he’s done and it’s the first thing he says. You tell him it does help you feel better about yourself and you enjoy spending the time with him, doing something you both enjoy. And the smile he gives you is blinding.

If you’re having a bad time with Dysphoria he’ll ask what you want to do. Workout? Movie and Snacks? Do you need a distraction or do you want to just...be?

He’s well aware of the toxic masculinity that can be present in places like gyms and such. He’s never tolerated it, but there’s a new edge to him if he hears anyone saying something disrespectful or hateful.

If someone misgenders you, he makes his displeasure known but he focuses on making sure you aren’t upset. (Not many would dare risk making him angry anyways, as quiet as he is he’s still intimidating when he needs to be.)

Belphegor:

You don’t actually tell him. with how often you end up napping with him he just knows. He doesn’t even say anything about it- he doesn’t see the need to and neither do you.

He does say something the one time he catches you falling asleep in a binder. “You can’t sleep in that!” he wakes you up and makes you change- he tells you it’s important to have proper sleepwear, a lecture that might even rival one Lucifer's, as he himself begins to doze off.

After that he makes a point to check to make sure you aren’t wearing a binder before he cuddles up for a nap or for the night (Not that he admits it to you)

He likes to tease you, but he’s always hyper aware of his words. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally say something that might actually hurt you

He doesn’t tend to use overly gendered language with you in the first place, “You’re my nap buddy,” “You make a really nice pillow,” “I like it when you look flustered like that,”

But if he notices/ you tell him you’re struggling with dysphoria more than usual he’ll make the effort to use specifically masculine terms

He’s not the greatest with being open about his feelings but he’ll reassure you if that’s what you need

He doesn’t like seeing you struggling so he asks the best ways to help you feel better, even if he still teases you he’s doing his best to cheer you up or make you more comfortable.

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s making sure you’re okay. He’ll be even more clingy than usual, glare at anyone he thinks looks at you wrong or he’ll simply drag you back home to laze around and cuddle (He tells you he’s tired and just wants to nap, but he really just wants to keep an eye on you in case it upset you more than you showed.)

He’ll have a discussion with whoever upset you later, anyways.

Solomon:

When you realize he’s way older than he looks you’re concerned that he’s gonna have some very archaic views about things.

Even as you grow closer to him, the thought nags at the back of your mind and it keeps you stuck at a distance despite his obvious flirting.

He notices, of course. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can stop if you’d like,” It's a stark contrast to his usual teasing and mystic demeanor, and the serious expression on his face draws some courage from you.

You manage to tell him without stuttering, and then you flush when you tell him you weren’t sure he’d be okay with that. Saying it out loud makes you feel a little silly- all things considered.

He hums and tells you he understands, but that he doesn’t care in the sense that if you’re happy and true to yourself that’s what matters most. (It sounds suspiciously like something Asmo would say, but there’s sincerity in his voice and eyes.)

His flirting continues- when he passes you at RAD, when he invites you to study with him, even his messages, simple compliments like “You look rather handsome today,” or teasing “I’m so lucky to sit with the cutest boy in class,” but now that you aren’t worrying about other things, you can finally return his teasing.

If you’re having a hard time with dysphoria, he’ll ask if he can help. He’ll show up with snacks, movies, books, anything you want to do. He’ll even offer to ask Asmo for the needed supplies for a spa day, if he thinks that might help.

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s gonna set them straight. He’s the most powerful sorcerer and he’s not going to let someone disrespect you like that

Diavolo:

When you arrive in the Devildom, you actually laugh. A few of the people (demons!) standing around you look concerned.

“I mean, plenty of people told me I’d go to hell but I don’t think this is what they meant.” There’s some surprised looks but no one mentions it past that, really.

But it does come up in one of your regular meetings with Diavolo, what had started out as short meetings to discuss how things were progressing during your stay had suddenly turned into hours of visiting over tea and Barbatos cooking.

He asks you what you meant when you’d said that. It wasn’t the first ‘personal’ question he asked you, and you didn’t see a reason not to explain. So you tell him all about your run ins with the wannabe preachers and ‘concerned’ Sunday school moms and the like and how you managed to offend them.

He looks curious and you tell him to feel free to ask you if he has a question. He has a few, mostly about if there’s anything making you uncomfortable he might not be aware of, or if there’s anything you need that you can’t get in the Devildom.

He’s genuinely concerned about not having thought about things like this when it comes to the exchange students, and asks if you’d help him make sure the program was improved and friendly towards all.

It warms your heart to see him so passionate and ready to learn in order to make others comfortable, so you agree without hesitation

Your visits with Diavolo grow in number after that though some of them remain just friendly visits, some are focused on the exchange program and some of them are far more intimate.

If you tell him you’re having a rough time with feeling dysphoric, he’ll Invite you over to visit and make sure you’re alright- and if you don’t feel like going out? He’ll come to you, a box of sweets from Barbatos and determined to find out if there’s anything he can do to help.

He’s all about reassurance, “You’re perfect, and I don’t lie, remember?”

Someone misgenders you intentionally or is just being transphobic in general? He’s quick to shut that down. He makes it known that he won’t tolerate any sort of hate speech or such behavior, and especially not towards you. No one is going to test Lord Diavolo on that, either.

#swd obey me #obey me #Trans masc MC #trans mc #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #om solomon #om diavolo #Tw mention of transphobia #Obey me trans masc MC #obey me hc #headcanon #kinda self indulgent im just starving for content i can relate to

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lightsinthedistancee · 4 years ago

Text

Darkness : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Excerpt: “Darkness is a time of peace for you. A time to crawl into soft sheets, to curl up against your pilot. Some nights, to feel him lazily press a soft kiss to your forehead before his breath levels out in sleep. Others, to feel his hands roaming your body, feel him inside you.”

Summary: A short talk to Poe is always enough to cure a case of loneliness.

Warnings: Some sexual references

A/N: This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday. I actually originally meant for this to be a perhaps 500 word-ish Drabble but it ended up way longer obviously. But I’m really proud of it and love the concept of Writer Wednesday, so hope you guys enjoy! (Also, we’re just gonna pretend that phones and phone booths exist in the Star Wars universe...).

You’ve always found something lovely in darkness.

It’s simple, quiet, a constant that never changes, that rolls around at roughly the same time each night. Settles over cities and towns and every being in the galaxy in a thin blanket. Darkens faces into comforting anonymity, conceals the activities of lovers, provides peace in slumber for the weary.

There is a saying: One should not be afraid of the dark, but of what lies in it.

And after years of life, years of travel, years of experiencing the galaxy, you know that nothing sinister hides beneath darkness. No monsters, no demons, no ghosts. It is something that simply exists with no ulterior motive, something that is debatably hard to come by these days.

Darkness is a time of peace for you. A time to crawl into soft sheets, to curl up against your pilot. Some nights, to feel him lazily press a soft kiss to your forehead before his breath levels out in sleep. Others, to feel his hands roaming your body, feel him inside you.

In those times, darkness is there, still a constant. Hiding his features, hiding those eyes you adore during the daytime, allowing you to become entirely tactile, to simply feel him to the fullest, void of the distraction one’s most used method of perception, sight, provides.

Yet tonight is a rare night. Your feet hit pavement as you walk quickly, hands in your coat, head bent towards the ground. You’ve been on this Outer Rim planet for nearly two months, gathering intelligence undercover, maintaining little to no contact with the Resistance, and therefore, Poe.

The darkness seems stronger than ever tonight. It slithers up and down the sides of buildings, seems to wrap around you in strings. In this moment, it is not simply a cover—it is suffocating.

The loneliness had been getting to you. Too many days going by a name that is not your own, too many days living in constant fear, too many days away from the touch of someone that’s always able to take your mind off of everything.

And that’s exactly what you need right now. A distraction. A brief moment to bind you back to everything you know, something you are slowly, imperceptibly slipping away from in your mind. The buildings seem to tower over you, to dwarf you. It’s an intimidation act, and you feel it’s working.

It feels as if you can sink into the asphalt, become one with the soil that had been so cruelly compressed by man-made rock. As if you can sink beneath and become one with the dead, the figurative and the literal that had most likely been so barbarously worked to death to build this historic city in the dark days of the galaxy.

You round a bend, turning onto the main street, and your eyes, adjusted to the dark, flare painfully as light hits you. You snap them shut on instinct, flinching. However, the object of your discomfort is not an unknown. This route had been walked by you every day the last two months, and the light is the same phone booth you’d been using to transmit information back to the Resistance due to the anonymous, unmonitored, and therefore, rare quality of it.

It is hardly used anymore, for everyone has their own personal holos, and this one is particularly beat up. It’s translucent walls are cloudy, it’s metal backing dented. Nowadays, it is probable that is it only frequented by drunks and Spice addicts and, well…you.

There is something ironic about the fact that this small, dilapidated booth is your only connection back to D’Qar.

But not ironically, perhaps in a poetically symbolic manner, it also shines bright in the darkness, eradicates the very thing that had been suffocating you moments earlier. It is almost a physical embodiment of hope.

It is also a universal rule that hope births more hope, and an unwise desire comes over you. One that could put the whole operation at risk. But resisting the temptation, it hurts. It’s agonizing, and you want to give in to it. You want to hear one voice. One voice that can wrap you in softness, encourage your imagination to conjure up the sensation of his touch.

And before you know it, you’re in the booth, dialing a long string of numbers you’ve memorized by now. A voice of a communications officer sounds.

You state your name.

“Security code?” the officer asks.

“Six nine eight oh seven three.”

Your eyes nervously glance around. Despite having done this a few times, the experience still makes your heart race. You can only hope that any observer would see only an ordinary lone figure, silhouetted in the light, making an emergency call to a friend because she drank too much or got her wallet stolen.

“You got information?”

“No,” you respond, letting out a soft breath and lying through your teeth. “I need you to transfer me to Commander Dameron. I have a hunch regarding something naval, and I need his opinion.”

You silently chide yourself at your quickness to over explain.

But luckily, the communication officer says nothing. “Transferring now,” he says.

You thank him, leaning against the inner wall of the booth, hovering the phone directly next to your ear. Moments of silence pass before a voice breaks it.

“Hello?” says Poe.

Every point of tension in you seemed to relax in a moment as your eyes slowly close. The timbre of his voice washes over you, through you. “Hey,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds confused. Above all, tired.

“Did I wake you?” you ask, feeling bad all of a sudden. The high that had been coursing through your veins moments earlier plunges back to the ground. The intensity with which you feel it is irrational, yet nothing in you mind is steady.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” he replies, a slight urgency to his voice. “Is something wrong?”

You picture him in your shared bed back on D’Qar, shirt off like usual. Propped up on one elbow, sheets falling to his waist, holo to his ear, concern on his features. Concern at his love calling him in the middle of the night, her voice shaking.

“Nothing’s wrong…I just…I….” Your voice trails off, and a silence a bit too long elapses.

“Baby?” he asks.

Your breath trembles slightly as you let it out. “This was a mistake,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, just—“

He interjects at the tone of finality in your voice. “Hey…don’t go, sweetheart.” You hear him shift, perhaps sitting up. “Just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I miss you,” you blurt out. You’d meant to say it more eloquently, less directly, but that’s not something you have the energy for right now. “I miss everyone back on D’Qar. This assignment…it’s the most least contact with base I’ve ever had, and—why am I even telling you that? You know that.” You let out a frustrated breath, gathering your thoughts. He patiently waits, something you’re grateful for. “I’m just…having a hard time. That’s all.”

His energy transmits well through the phone. He’s thinking, the gears in his mind turning. You can feel the helplessness, for there is undeniably little he can do. “I miss you, too,” he finally says. “It’s a few more weeks, baby. I know you’ve got it in you…”

It’s a simple sentence, yet nearly reinvigorating in a way. Nothing that immediately lifts your mood, but perhaps something that briefly abates the hollow feeling within you.

“I’ll be there the moment you’re back.” His tone is soft, a little raspy with tiredness, slightly reminiscent of the way he tells you how much he loves and how amazing you are in a post-sex haze of exhaustion. It’s an odd relation, but the sense of peace that both tones hold is something you always cling to. “I’ll be there to kiss you. To hold you.” He pauses. “To take you to bed….”

The way his voice, on the last statement, walks the line between humorous and genuinely seductive makes you laugh quietly. It’s neither a common nor desirable combination.

“There’s that beautiful laugh,” he says softly, letting out a breath, returning to his previous demeanor. “I’ll be there, baby. I know you know that.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. Air brushes past your lips as your eyes flutter shut. “I know.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist (for everything): @dark-academics-and-florals @theultimateslashgirl

Taglist (for Poe): @synical-paradox @spider-starry @paper-n-ashes

If you wish to be tagged on any of my future works, just let me know or do the form on my Masterlist if that’s easier!

Based on this Writer Wednesday pic:

#Writer Wednesday #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction

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myneighbortmnt · 4 years ago

Photo

Here’s a progress clip in the form of a terrible quality GIF because I’m absolutely horrible with computers and this is the best I could figure out lol.

On the bright side I just learned how to put the little read more function in on Tumblr so I have a couple better quality individual pics below the cut along with what’s basically the first draft of my autobiography bcos damn do I ramble.

Warning for an infodump sorry guys this is practically a novel. I keep remembering stories that happened while I was drawing.

Here’s this bad boy I sketched in my org chem class bcos drawing helps me alleviate the incredible strain of having to sit still and pay attention for an entire hour. I was like haha wow! This looks cool! I should totally finish this!!

That was in March.

I started coloring this in when I went on a trip with friends to a cabin on a lake. I had to color it in with my fingers because I’m constantly losing my art pen or forgetting to put in new batteries. Since we’re all dumb teenagers there was booze every night. I’m not a huge fan of the taste of alcohol and already have terrible impulse control so I’d chill and draw instead of drinking. One of our friends is Muslim tho so at least I had a sober buddy. :P

It still absolutely sucked tho drunk people are annoying and they smell terrible and they throw up they’re like giant children but like not cute. I ended up locking myself up in my room to keep out the smell, putting on some music, and reading The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks just to cope. Good book by the way. It’s basically the world building he did to make World War Z.

Little skip ahead and a color change. Still using precious little references because I only get super motivated to draw when I don’t have internet. I seem to have accidentally earned the respect of my 11 yr old cousin, as he says this picture is “okay” but sits down next to me to watch every time I draw. I showed him the Mystic Library episode, and then eventually got him to watch a pretty big chunk of the series with me. He says he likes the show but that the intro theme is kinda cringey and seems too much like a kids cartoon.

....it IS a kids cartoon??? Also bro ur like eleven you ARE a kid.

I am super proud of the detail I put into this book when I finally hunted down a reference. I cannot even tell you how much time I have spent just flicking between the progress pics so I made yall a gif because I just learned how.

85% of the shadows in this piece I made by airbrushing and then erasing bits. Gotta say I freaking love drawing shadows like this 10/10 can and will do again.

I’m like “hey! this is starting to look sorta finished! I think I can post it soon!

But then I decide to draw the bookcases by hand.

Why? I don’t know. Well I mean I do know the old ones sucked but STILL.

...I couldn’t get myself to do it and dropped the whole piece for two months.

Three color changes and ten trillion little tweaks later I’m finally done. By the time I’m finished I’ve spent so much time on this that my family members are almost begging me to just post the damn thing instead of complaining about drawing details asdfdasf

Also if you made it to the end of this and somehow aren’t bored yet:

1) Congratulations!

2) DM me if you have any questions about technique or just wanna chat! Just be warned that I will probably gush and/or ramble--!

#rottmnt #long post

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eutaerpe · 4 years ago

Text

the escapades (m)

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings— smut (oral, fingering, orgasm denial) & college!au, fratboy!jimin, brief e2l, brief ewb, acr universe

summary — the one where there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension, until there isn’t.

notes — 8.3k words of the happiness before the storm i couldn’t write. i realised halfway through this there’s a slight plotwise change in comparison to what i wrote in acr so. yeah. sorry. kudos to you if you find it lol

The first time it happens, you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.

You’re sitting near the end of the table, crossing your legs and playing with the hem of your dress, your lips twisted into a frown. The real reason lying behind the simple decision of having a single, almost infinite table of guests doesn’t, in the slightest, cross your mind; why your idiotic brother would see this as a delightful idea really is above you, but you suppose the valuable genes in the family runs all in your DNA.

You’re playing with the table decorations while waiting for the guests to come, and it’s so fucking boring you regret telling Seulgi no, babe, what the fuck - you even shook your head and decided to sound extra mad at the idea - I won’t sneak in weed.

Too bad for you, she had answered, a cute pout on her lips, I’ll give you an hour before you’re bored out of your mind.

The truth hangs above your head, with a sheepish grin: you just needed ten minutes to be absolutely, drastically bored.

In hindsight, sneaking in weed wouldn’t have been the worst idea: your mother is talking to the in laws, gesticulating excitedly at the idea of kids right after marriage. What the fuck, you text Seulgi, at home trying to get out of bed, my brother has been married for an hour and there’s already baby talk going on at the table.

Seulgi

[12.49]

With the baby talk comes the dick talk

You

[12.49]

Oh no the dick talk

Seulgi

[12.50]

man how can you survive your relatives talking about nonexistent boyfriends without my weed, damn???

You

[12.50]

option a: I’ll tell them I’m dating you

Seulgi

[12.50]

we kissed ONE time

You

[12.50]

option b: I’ll tell them I’m in a relationship with Jeon jungkook

Seulgi

[12.50]

bitch we both know you’re not in a relationship with the hottest guy on campus. he has dimples and long hair and piercings. my sources can even confirm he has a big dick. what do U Have

You

[12.51]

i was talking about my vibrator but go off lmao

anyway I’ve had that D ;)

Seulgi

[12.51]

you’re officially cancelled

when did this happen? I can’t believe you’re telling me over text!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.51]

last semester!!!!! why do you think I’ve named my vib after him!!!!!!

Seulgi

[12.52]

because you’re lusting after him like the rest of us mortals!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.52]

I’ve upgraded since then. I’ve leveled up. I’ve seen things People Can’t Even Imagine

Seulgi

[12.52]

just say he got u off and go

You

[12.52]

anyway option c: I scare them away by saying controversial things. Id est: I don’t believe in love. I am choosing my partner solely judging their abilities to finger me under a table when people are around. I am secretly lusting after my brother’s wife. I am trying to get impregnated like in The Sims 2 aka I am waiting for that alien dick.

Seulgi

[12.52]

hate to break it to you babe but that’s literally who you are

You

[12.52]

I literally compliment joohyun’s boobs once and this is the treatment I get

Seulgi

[12.52]

are we not gonna talk about your alien dick kink

You

[12.52]

no kink shaming in this house lady

option d: I listen to their complaints and run

Seulgi

[12.53]

option dick

man sorry I meant option d

You

[12.53]

you didn’t

Seulgi

[12.54]

ur right I didn’t

Option e, also known as I’ll entertain the other guests so I don’t have to talk to you, presents itself in the form of one very hot, very ripped young man sporting the most expensive shirt in the room. You’re only human when you admit to yourself, mental sigh, that he ticked all the let’s get y/n horny requirements in less than fifteen seconds.

You can’t believe Joohyun has kept him hidden for so long from you. Such betrayal ends when your brother, Kim fucking Seokjin, hugs him tight and brushes with utter affection the nape of his neck, gracing him with a warm smile and a heartfelt laugh.

You can’t believe Seokjin has kept him hidden for so long from you.

Well. Scratch that. You can.

Suddenly, the ticked requirements disappear and a giant neon sentence with a very cheap background music impose themselves in your head. WHAT A TURN OFF! they read, the neon red words mocking you; you steal a glance at your brother’s acquaintance one more time - one last time - before slipping your phone in your hands and dedicating yourself one more time at your Instagram feed, scrolling through the most recent pics.

(You stumble upon an extremely rare Jungkook selfie, and you hate to admit you spend the following thirty seconds admiring him before tapping twice on the quality content you’ve signed up for when you joined the social)

You suppose that, even though your brother’s friends with fuckboy tendencies are signed off your let’s get to know each other better ;) list, it doesn’t mean the same goes for them.

So, when the dark-haired young man with a jawline sharper than Seulgi’s retorts after her third beer sits next to you, you reckon you shouldn’t be that surprised.

He acts all casual, you notice while discreetly looking at him; he’s busy taking off his jacket and flexing his muscles, all of this while pretending not to notice you, and you find it immensely cute.

Ah, fuckboys.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips twisted in a crooked smile, “I didn’t think it would be this hot today.”

“Yeah, sorry, the heat is on me.”

He chuckles in disbelief at your words, eyes turning into crescents.

“Right, there’s always the girl stealing the bride’s spotlight at weddings.”

“Oh! That’s me,” you nod enthusiastically, “That’s one hundred percent me.”

“Groom or bride?” He asks, pointing at the couple with his chin.

“What do you think?”

He looks at you funny, pressing his back on the seat, pondering in silence. Cute.

“Bride. One of Bae’s sorority sisters, maybe? You seem too young to be her age, though.”

“Damn,” you exhale, crossing your arms under your chest, “I can’t believe you got it all wrong. The expectations were low, but I’m still disappointed.”

He ducks his head, still smiling. “Then it’s the groom. How do you know Seokjin?”

Your eyes twinkle with excitement at your next words, but honestly, who can blame you? You’re having fun with this lost, cute chick.

“What’s your take, officer?”

He erupts into a laugh, and you drink in his handsome features; fuck you, Seokjin, for being friends with fuckboys only.

“Alright,” he punches the bridge of his nose, scanning the room, which is slowly filling with other guests. “I’m his friend, and I know all of his friends, which can only mean one thing: option a, you’re one of his ex-girlfriends; option b, you’re one of his secret hook-ups; option c, you’re an old friend from high school.”

“Oooh,” you beam, unrealistically intrigued, “You really suck at guessing, don’t you?”

He laughs, passing a hand through his dark locks, messing his perfectly styled hair. “Ok, fair. Which one was the closest, then?”

“Option d, of course.” You nod, relaxing your features into a sheepish grin, “I’m his much more beautiful and smarter sister.”

You exam his face, now twisting into some sort of what the fuck, such betrayal look, and you take in, for the last time – really the last, this time – his attractive, sculptured face, his full lips, the smoothness of his skin. It’s awful and unfair knowing you two won’t cross paths ever again in your lives, but at least you had some fun messing with him before things could worsen.

“I’ll be sitting in the middle of the table, with my family, if you want to avoid me.”

You wink at him for good measure, and you swear to god he blushes.

Half a wine bottle and two flutes of prosecco down, you realise you underestimated your resident fuckboy.

It happens when you’re grabbing your napkin and channelling your dreamy, happy looks towards the newlyweds, dancing in the middle of the room, their eyes gravitating only towards the love of their lives.

You sigh, pouting for the smallest of fractions, when you feel someone sitting at your side.

“You know,” Fuckboy begins, and you picture him licking his lips as he pauses, “Now I get why he never told us anything more than: I’m not an only child.”

“I know,” you exhale, turning to face him, “Seokwon is the real catch of our family. We’re really protective of him.”

“He’s married. With kids.”

“I was there when the twins opened their eyes, thank you.”

“We thought you were either a small kid or a forty years old woman.”

“Wait,” you tilt your head, “How did you know about us then? And who’s we?”

“We dug into his stuff and he caved in, admitting he had a brother and a sister.” Fuckboy looks at you, eyes dark but reflecting the dim lights of the function room, “Us. The frat guys.”

“Right, the fuckboys.”

He looks taken aback by your statement, bewildered, and you take advantage of his reaction to stand up and head away from him. It’s his words that stop you from doing so, though.

“You don’t know us—”

“—except I do know your pledges and your brothers.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “I prefer to steer away from my brother’s friends, though.”

“Right,” he says, tightening his lips in a hard line, almost hurt, “So, who am I to interfere with your judgmental thinking?” He clicks his tongue, then, a resolute exhale slipping past his lips, smothered by his own tingling despair.

The words hurt.

You don’t know what exactly pinched your senses hard, if the tone or the wallowing sadness swimming in his expression, but, as he stands up and leaves, you’re left facing the cold, hard truth.

The words hurt, you hurt, and you feel guilty.

You say nothing, glancing in the direction of the first alcoholic beverage around, and you fill yourself a glass.

Had it been someone else – had it been another sentence, another less sickening scenario, you would’ve felt proud, righteous. You’re, instead, on the other side of the feelings spectrum, all filled with crippling guilt and a nauseous, pervasive feeling you can’t quite name and pin down.

The guests are dancing around you, moving hand in hand to the rhythm of the pop love song now playing; the ballroom is packed when you let your impulsive side make a choice, eyes following the guy’s composed figure. You can drastically feel the sweat, and the heat the people are radiating, when you stand up and move towards him, the only smiling boy passing his glass from a hand to the other.

You’re close enough to tap his wrist and brush your fingers, which you do; it elicits a gasp from him, all soft, not scathing around the edges yet able to bite you, anyway. It’s the guilt, you remind yourself, looking for a sign of some sort of inclination to accept your apologies between the crease of his brows and tight jaw, and everywhere in between.

It’s sickening—this boy didn’t exist four fucking hours ago. It didn’t even cross your wildest dreams, someone like him. His shape – his silhouette – has left a print in your mind, and no matter how hard you try focusing on something else, someone else, your mind keeps going back to the shape itself.

But you’re a coward, so, while he lets you intertwine your fingers, you admit, voice loud: “I wanna dance.”

He handles you properly, kindly, before pushing you in the crowd and brushing your hips with his hands, all rings and jewellery adorning them.

He blinks twice, biting the insides of his mouth, but he manages,

“Who says I wanna dance?”

Which is a bit stupid, or hypocritic if you might, because he’s swaying you to the rhythm of a ballad the pop love song turned into. You break into the smallest of smiles.

“I want to apologize.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know you,” he says, funnily enough, “But that seems almost unlikely, coming from you.”

“Yeah, you got me there, officer. I was, uhm,” you stare blatantly at his neck, and you suppress the desire to stroke your fingers’ pads on his soft skin, “I was out of line. I’m sorry. You were right, I don’t know you. I do know your frat brothers, my own brother, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

He hums, moving for a small fraction of instants his thumbs on your hips and it’s enough for your breath to catch into your own throat. He nods, which could mean anything, from I accept your apology to go fuck yourself, this is bullshit. You prefer the former option, if you’re being honest, which is the answer you settle for in your head, hazed and absolutely hazed and madly hazed because of his small physical contact.

To put this into the simplest terms, Seulgi’s words, you don’t like this.

“I like dancing,” his eyes tower you and gaze at the other people dancing; you wonder if he’s thinking about them, who they are to you, what role they played in Seokjin’s life, if they’ll show up to your wedding, too. These thoughts popped into your mind unannounced, before, at the table, before the not-really-fuckboy sat next to you and made you feel guilty. Such absurdity; yet here you are, in his arms. Oh god, what would Seulgi think of you if she saw you?

“Good to know, I’m awful at shoulder-hips coordination.”

“Shoulder-hips coordination?” he inquiries, lips parted.

“Uh, body rolls?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I see, you mean classy grinding.”

“I don’t do classy grinding, sorry,” you retort, head tilted to a side.

His smile his amused. “Too bad, shoulder-hips coordination is a nice trait to exhibit sometimes.”

“I prefer hips coordination. Well, hips rotation.”

“Hips rotation?”

“Riding? Is the term somehow unfamiliar to you?”

He flushes, biting back a grin and fixing his gaze somewhere in the crowd. How cute.

“Not at all, it’s nice to meet a hips rotation enthusiast here, though.”

“Statistics say at least a member in each family is a riding enthusiast, did you know?”

“Shit, talk dirty to me,” he licks his lips, pointing at Jin with his chin, “Didn’t peg him for a rider, though. Not at all.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a STEM major, are you? You’re lacking basic intuition, my friend.”

“Is this your attempt of discovering my major?” – he eyes you, a flick of amusement burning in his orbs – “You’re not very smooth, you know?”

“I have my moments.”

He snorts, placing both hands on the small of your back. You’re at height level with the base of his neck, and it’s fun how your mind betrays you in such moments, providing mental images of your nose brushing against his skin, and you nuzzling in the crook of his neck. Such taunting, invasive pictures. Fuck off, you reprimand your own mind, fuck off.

“I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin,” you taste the name on your tongue, hitting the back of your front teeth. “Jin never talked about you. I’m Y/N.”

“Jin never talked about you either.”

“Of course he never did, I’m prettier than he is.”

His little dimples make an appearance. “You know, you could really steal the bride’s spotlight.”

“That was my ultimate goal all along, even though I prefer the dark side.”

“I,” he licks his lips, and you don’t know why you’re following the gesture, “I meant to say you’re beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, eyebrows raising, “Are you a charmer?”

“I mean,” he begins, sheepish smile on display, “I never kiss and tell.”

“Touching.” He smirks. “How sweet of you.”

“You know what else is sweet?”

“Please,” you beg, meeting his eyes, “Don’t say my pussy.”

“Please,” he repeats, same mocking tone, “The possibilities are endless. Your mouth,” he scoots closer, words whispered on the shell of your ear, “Your mouth around my dick,” he almost nibbles your ear, “Your mouth screaming my name.”

“My pussy,” you add, trying not to lose your mind.

“I would never call sweet something I’ve not tasted.”

He raises a brow.

“Are you offering? You’re not very smooth, you know?”

He ignores the last question, tightening his grip. “In the middle of your brother’s wedding? Seokjin’s wedding? I’m not a dick, even though you sitting on my face would be a sight to see.”

“Right?” your voice doesn’t falter for a second, “That’s what I always say”

“Nice to see how we’ve got much in common. But I was thinking of something else, actually—” His face is once again inches away from yours, ear to mouth, hot breath fanning over you bare neck. “I wanna finger you.”

Oh.

“Under the table. Right behind you. Wanna make you whimper.”

It’s almost like being tongue-tied, fumbling for words, body flushing, but you gather somewhere the strength to form an actual sentence, which makes him smirk devilishly.

“I can be very quiet.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Bet you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut.”

“When I win,” you say, lying your words on an unrealistically high vote of confidence, even for yourself, “What do I get?”

He licks his lips, slow, savouring the moment. “You get to ride my face.”

“Not your dick?”

“I’m not a fuckboy, baby.”

A comeback of some kind is already on your tongue, but – there’s a kiss somewhere in the following seconds, all wet and tingling and perhaps filled with too many lip bites, but he can’t really blame you when you’ve been brushing your thighs together for the past minute, heat pooling down your belly. It’s enough for you to silently pledge for more, and for him to tease, because he takes a step back, smirk in place and lips reddened, and guides you towards his seat at the end of the table with a hand on the small of your back.

Downhill begins as soon as you sit down, legs barely parted, a minimum space not fitting for his plans, apparently, because the crease between Jimin’s eyebrows grows when he nudges them apart with his hand, the cold metal of his rings cooling down your flushed state. You want to gasp at the sudden intrusion, but the sound is swallowed entirely by his hot mouth on yours, distracting once again, incredibly soft and alluring. This kiss is slow, this time, like he’s taking his time tasting you and learning about the hums he draws out of you, the shyness of your previously biting tongue, and how fast you get lost in the kiss itself. You press a chaste kiss on his mouth, before creaking a space between you.

“I’m starting to think you’re all bark and no bite”

He doesn’t answer, but stares into your eyes with his hooded gaze, and he manages to sneak a hand furtively under your dress not breaking the contact. His skin is warm, but you’re warmer, and his destination is even hotter. He cocks his head, fingers brushing against the soaked, sticking material you used to call panties up until fifteen minutes ago, and he must notice—his eyes grow wider, his jaw tightens and his hand gains courage.

Fuck. This should be embarrassing, getting worked up over dirty innuendos and a kiss or two, but you’re instead feeling flushed and more. More sensitive. More open to the idea of him ruining you, even though that’s not what he’s offering. Or— is he?

The question lies unanswered when his digits rub with a sparkled intensity over both your clothed sex and your inner thighs. It’s a continuous, mellifluous melody, his fingers dancing between the two until he settles on your panties only, and that’s when you almost let out a soft moan; you don’t, he raises his brow, challenging, but you don’t, and instead glance around to notice if someone has his eyes on the both of you, sitting in the furthest region of the fucking smart, endless table.

He raises the stake, flushed: Jimin pushes your panties on one side, petting with his index your exposed self, and you suck in a breath. He continues to do so, face still, closing the distance between you two.

You don’t question the sudden kiss, instead you angle your face and close your eyes and let him press his lips on you. This feels like being drunk, or high, stretching underneath a sky dripping with stars. You cup his face with your hands, his lips so terribly soft and inviting, the smallest of smiles meeting your own chapped and curved upwards lips.

It’s when you’re merely inches away from him that he thumbs at your clit, sensitive and tingling, circling with utmost peace and no speed whatsoever. You pout at little, you realize, which makes him melt either cause of your cute frown -oh, how the tables have turned- or simply because he’s the devil himself, pressing a finger against your entrance and delving it into your heat.

“Cute,” he purrs, kissing you, “Is this okay?”

The crude, hot, nerve-wracking fingering has begun, which makes you, quickly enough, putty in his hands and ablaze with ardour for this man whose rasping voice could kill you.

“Yeah,” you breathe on his mouth, eyelids drooping closed, “Yeah, all good.”

You hum to yourself as he starts pressing kisses on your jaw and your neck, a trail of treacherous flames lighting up your skin, and you have the audacity to sigh under his ministrations, a tiny, strained sound not quite a mewl.

If he hears, he doesn’t show it. You’re biting your own lip when he enters a second finger, filling your searing emptiness.

“Want three?” he asks, voice husky and as desperate as you are under his touch. He adds it when you nod, the squelch louder than before, and you moan, rocking your hips against his fingers.

“Shh, baby,” he coos, placing his other hand on your hips, slowing your movements, “Be a good girl.”

He fucks you deep, fast, fingers clashing against the silky dress you’re wearing and sweat sparkling on his forehead. He swallows another moans of yours, sucking your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You’re close. You’re so close, and it’s only been a couple minutes. You can’t hear anything that isn’t your wet pussy clenching around his fingers, his rhythm ruthless and burning.

“Too bad you’re not coming on my fingers, today,” he says before kissing your neck and emptying your dripping pussy, then proceeding to taste and lick his own fingers in his mouth. He lets them out with a small pop, and it’s the most terrifying sight you’ve ever had in front of your almost watering eyes. “I’m sorry I won the bet, though, your pussy is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

That’s the high and dry story of how you first met Jimin.

The second time it happens, it’s under completely different circumstances, and, substantially, against your every predictions, it really happens. It takes place, like a once in a lifetime event: there’s an orgasm involved, not due to the very charming and never disappointing Jeon jungkook the robotic version, and instead it involves a rather attractive asshole with a persistent smirk plastered on his face.

Except it’s a lot more complicated than what it sounds, and most of it is Seulgi’s fault.

Your roommate had pouted all evening, because that’s what semi adults do when they’re denied a companion for the night.

“I just wanna get wasted. It’s been one hell of a month, and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I can suggest you a vibrator and a bottle of vodka. Do you settle for that, your honor?”

“The more you talk like this,” all self-absorbed and assertive and cautiously, like when talking to a kid, she begins, hands in her long, mahogany hair, “the more I just wanna push you up against the wall.”

“Sounds to me you just wanna get laid.”

“Maybe I do,” she huffs, hands on her hips, the light of your abat-jour highlighting her golden skin. “Maybe I don’t. What I know is that I wanna get wasted. Come with me, pretty please?”

“Look,” you raise your eyes from the book you’ve been holding, stretching a leg onto the unmade bed of yours, “I just wanna get this fucking paper done. I need,” you grip the phone on the bed table, checking for the white, large numbers on your lock screen, “an hour. An hour and half to edit it and I’m all yours.”

“This paper is due on Thursday, though.”

“Yeah, but I have a reputation to uphold in the family. Have to be the most beautiful and successful.”

“You’re full of shit,” are her last words, muttered with a smile as she grabs her jacket.

“Hey,” you call, stretching your neck towards her, “I don’t care if it’s two am and you’re already wasted. Call me and I’ll come to you with a whole bottle of vodka to make it up to you. Hell, I’ll even kiss you goodnight.”

“I don’t wanna make out with you, you freak.”

“You didn’t say that last time, baby!”

Seulgi

[2.13]

wassup bitch

make out with meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[location shared]

com n get me littl nuggrt

Not Sober Seulgi is probably the worst Seulgi you have ever dealt with. You let out a sigh, eyeing the frat dorm all lit up and vibrating to the trashy trap music the insiders are jamming to.

Of course, when it comes to Not Sober Seulgi, there’s boys involved. Frat boys involved. At first, you don’t pay attention to the details, the signs, surrounding you like blinding traffic lights signalling stop stop stop, all red and striking. The thought doesn’t cross your mind, the dots connecting in some hidden part of your brain not making your insides short circuit—instead you’re knocking on the door, then banging on the very wooden entrance until a face shows up; the dorm is dimly lit, and the face is partially lightened by a soft, hued red and, that, too, Future You pinpoints, should have been a sign.

It’s useless, anyway, because you hear the insider talk and you’re burning instantly, like after touching a steaming, hot cup of coffee, except that bitter coffee is still good coffee. Smug Jimin plus bitter you isn’t really sweet, nor a match made in heaven. It’s chaotic, a caustic explosion, and you both know it, judging from the sharp smile he offers you, after blinking lazily at your figure.

“This is a mixer party only,” his soothing voice welcomes you, “Do you have an invite?”

You press your tongue on your teeth, mouth carefully closed.

“Yeah, from Hell, I’ve come to take a fallen angel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, oh-kind-lady, but we didn’t give any invite to poor, damned souls.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck about your policies, then,” you move towards the small space between the door and Jimin’s body, but he interferes, placing himself right between the two. “Look, I don’t give a single fuck about this party.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

You roll your eyes. “My friend is here. She’s most certainly not sober and I’ve come to pick her up. That’s it. Do you think I want to be here, among these drunk, perverted jocks?”

He turns around, stretching his neck, his eyes darting through the crowd, inhibited by alcohol, smelling like cheap beer and weed. The moment his eyes bore into yours, though, it’s terrifying; it’s a rustled reminder of Seokjin’s wedding Jimin, and you don’t like it. You loathe it. You dread it.

“Maybe only some of us.”

He tips his head, lips curving into a timid, small smile, and you tear your gaze from his lips in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, keep dreaming of it. I just want my friend back.” You point your chin towards the amalgam of drunk party animals, “I’ll leave you to your immensely interesting activities, then.”

“What if,” he begins, “You don’t. Or—even better scenario, you leave with me.”

“Best case scenario, I leave with my friend. You stay here.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario, then?”

You cock a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest. “I leave with my friend, you stay here. Sometime before me leaving, you’re punched. Or kicked. I don’t know. There’s a high chance I’ll throw a drink on you.”

“That implies you’ll be here long enough to grab a drink, doesn’t it? And you don’t have to ruin my shirt to get me naked, babe. Just ask nicely.”

You huff, and you’re mildly tempted to shove him against a wall. Or ruin him. Not in the funny way. More like the high and dry way, the one he knows so well. “I changed my mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Ask nicely?” His teasing tone makes your cheeks flush, and you hope the shitplace with subdued lightening can cover it. His expression shifts into an arrogant one, full smirk and little dimples out, so your cute guess is that he can see. He sees his effect on you, albeit completely unwanted and full of hatred from your side, and he enjoys it. Actually lulls in it, letting out a small laugh which, in turn, makes his eyes turn into crescents, all warm and cute—all things he’s not. All things you know he’s not.

“Ask nicely,” you repeat, rolling the words on your tongue, “Okay, babe. Let’s do this, babe. What do you want from me, babe?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the answer is you?”

“Yes, actually,” you sigh, fingers brushing his neck, face comically close to his perfect, chiselled one, “That’s exactly what I thought when you stopped fingering me.”

“Right,” Jimin has the audacity to smile, craning his neck as if to close the distance between you in order to meet you for a kiss, “I’m a man of word, thought. You should be impressed.”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s impressed is your face under the orgasm denial definition. Google it, babe, I guarantee you the meaning comes with your name and a brilliant review of one star.”

“Unlike you.” He licks his lips, eyes on your pretty pink ones, smeared with venom, “You’re not coming.” He explains, to further ignite your rage.

“And whose fault is that, babe?”

Jimin nuzzles into your neck, cupping your other cheek with his rough palm, and his thumb stills on your throat, right where your breath is stuck. He adds pressure on it, lips fondling your burning skin, his usual smirk plastered on them.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking me,” you spit back, mouth now millimetres away from his, gently inviting you to kiss it, and cherish it, and biting it until you’re satisfied with the hot result.

“I’ll eat you out? Until you come.” He hums. “You’ll come.”

His voice is a mere strangled sound, wanting and dripping with need, and you snap out of it with a small smile.

“Nice offer,” your smile is wicked as you scrape his nape with a feathery touch, the slow movement rousing a flutter in your lower belly. “But get in line, babe.”

His shell-shocked face is the last thing you see before you fulfil the let’s rescue Seulgi! party.

(“Why do you smell like softener?” Seulgi sniffs you, arms looped loosely around your neck, eyes completely shut down. It’s a nice sight, all things considered. You’re no angel, no saint, no perfect person, but you’re a nice friend, and that’s probably the most Seokjin trait you recognize in yourself. It’s your shared apartment, and it’s past 3 am and you’re the one good friend who keeps her promises. “It’s strawberry vodka, you heathen.”)

The line turns out to be a real line, queue line, let’s get this coffee line, which, well. How can one word it, how can one phrase it fully catching the irony of it all, the distinctive je ne sais quoi of life without—

“Nice to see you here.”

It’s the perfect set for a rom-com, you notice, taking in the warm scenery around you. What else can one dream of, right? The campus coffee shop, the campus hot not-really-but-also-kinda fuckboy Jimin, partial jock to give him credit, full time attractive idiot with a tendency for orgasm denial. Really.

“What are the chances?” You exhale, voice devoid of emotions. For the sake of your parents’ integrity, you suppose, because they raised no impolite woman, of course, you turn around to face the angel-like human being, black hair partially covering his forehead, little dimples on full display. That’s—that is lack of integrity, or indecency or au-fucking-dacity. It might as well be a mix of the above-mentioned possibilities, all fitting and nurturing you because he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome. Jimin’s the most attractive human being you’ve ever seen in your life, and it’s not fair.

(Beside the fact that you’ve lived with Kim Seokjin, for fuck’s sake)

He pokes his own cheek, and you bask into the otherworldly scenario that takes place right in front of your caffeine deprived eyes. It’s a sight for sore, soft eyes, and it’s the end of the world as you know it, because it’s morning, too early to properly function like a normal human being, but there he is. There he is, Jimin, channelling his inner boyfriend material aura, oozing off boyfriend smell, nice, fresh, aftershave smell, rocking a stupid sweater and the messiest black mop of hair.

It’s honestly a tragedy, and you won’t stand for it. You will make a move—

“You’re squinting your eyes, like, real tight. Are you alright?”

Just ogling you, your drowsy mind offers, the fucking cheater.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing a lump in your dry throat, “Just need coffee. A latte. Anything.”

You move forward in the queue, and as you blink you realize it’s your turn, until it’s not anymore. Jimin carefully and gently moves you out of the way, brushing with the softest touch your side.

“A latte and an iced americano, please.”

The sweetened order for two turns into a hushed thank you, a tipped smile, a flutter of you heart. It’s drinks still half full, his curious gaze darting on your lips, your defences down. It’s unfair, because in a hot second all this pent-up tension shifts into a light, chaste kiss, your back pressed against the coffee shop’s restroom; your chest heaves under his tantalizing make-out session with your neck, followed by his frantic lips pressing on yours, his tongue licking lazily into your mouth, a gasp easing its way out of your warm and eager mouth. It’s a hot-blooded supercut, each frame announced by a starving moan, a content sigh, and, before you realise it, you’re on your bed, Jimin hovering on top of you.

It’s Saturday morning, you hum to yourself, fingers sliding into his hair, all’s in check. There’s a warm body slumped on yours, his tongue swerving on your lower lip and his hips shyly bucking between your open legs. Your panties are drenched, you can feel his hard on through the jeans and, really, all’s in check.

He nudges your nose with his. “Lemme eat you out.”

The answer lies sitting on the tip of your tongue, right next to an obnoxious remark that you hope will rile him up enough for him to rip your underwear, which you definitely won’t complain about. However, the words don’t come out, they slur in your craving mouth the second he gets up and shoves you toward the end of your unmade bed, spreading your naked legs open with his calloused palms.

“Nice skirt,” he comments, voice a rasp, eyeing the drenched, lilac underwear, skirt at this point gone up to cover your stomach. “I just want…”

He shuffles closer, enough for you to feel his hot breath on your core, and that’s when Jimin pulls the panties on a side, teasing you with little licks to your entrance. You’re responsive, too eager for anything to quench your thirst that you sigh happily at the barest of actions, gripping strands of his hair. Jimin chuckles, engulfing the throbbing clit in his mouth in one go and drawing desperate moans out of your cute, devilish mouth.

“Fuckboy move,” you emit, voice cracking at the pressure of his warm mouth, “Oh, oh. Fuck…”

He replies flattening his tongue on your core, then licking and lapping against your dripping folds. Jimin positively glows at the cries you let out, face slobbering with your arousal while driving you insane, fucking with his tongue like his life depended on it. It’s almost a spiritual experience, a crescendo of wails and sobs, his face drown in your pussy and his tongue paying reverence to your approaching orgasm. He can feel it in the way you writhe, in his hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you still while he eats you religiously, forehead beaded with sweat.

You come with a trembling hand in his hair, the other flicking your bare nipple, back slightly arched and a lewd mewl; Jimin takes in the way your body trembles, your breath all staggered because of him, and the sight alone is enough for him to cum in his pants with a grunt, completely untouched.

The second time it happens is, coincidentally, the first time Jimin knows there’s no turning back from this.

Complicated is a big word when it comes to relationship, you reckon, emitting something akin to a gasp, truly soap operas worthy material, but, for the first time in your life, you decide to name it this way.

Being with Jimin is… complicated, for starters. Especially because you’re not with Jimin, in the strict, relationship-wise meaning. He knows your favourite colour (“Why the fuck you only own purple underwear?” “It’s lilac, dick, watch your mouth.” “Watch your own mouth, babe. You’re the one on your knees.”), your favourite food (“But you like having your mouth stuffed with my cock, honey.” You sigh, blushing. “First of all, I’m talking about real food. That amazing steak kind of food—“

“I’ll show you real meat, babe.”

“Gross. Gross. How can I cancel the last five seconds of my life?”

“Come here, Jared, nineteen,” he half smiles, tilting his head, “I’ll get us fries.”), your favourite movie (“We can’t get each other off every time your ugly paper cap fits—oh,” you suck in a breath, Jimin flicking his tongue on your turgid nipple, “oh, god, don’t stop.”), your best friend’s name (“I condone you dicking her so good she sometimes cries, you know, I just don’t when I’m in the room next to hers and all I can hear is my best friend trying to formulate a single coherent word but failing because you’re pounding her mercilessly into the mattress.” Jimin chuckles, grabbing his jacket before holding the doorknob. “She begged, Seulgi.”)—so what? It’s not like you sat down and decided not to ask each other dumb questions, so that you could find out in the funny, kinky way. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even decide on anything, didn’t even talk about talking, because the relationship related shit didn’t even cross your mind.

It’s even quite fucking hard for it to cross it, because half the time you’re together you’re either both naked – except for the time he pleaded for the tartan mini to stay – or stuffing your mouth with food—because, if there’s something you’ve learned after one too many hook-ups with him is that this kind of sex requires strength. Like, actual, physical strength, if we’re not talking about the this test is draining me please fuck me until I can’t walk sex. Which, yeah, 10/10 would recommend. That was the day Seulgi decided to invest in ear plugs while muttering capitalism, here I come.

You also came.

Funnily enough, guess who also came. Not in the funny, kinky way. Think about the grossest thing, imagine the beyond the bounds of possibility, sprinkle it with Jimin earnestly shoving his dick down your throat, stir it with a poor Taehyung brushing his teeth next to the both of you, a step away from the shower, and serve it on the most expensive plate in the kitchen, a recipe not approved by Kim Seokjin.

Yeah, you mentally roll your eyes, licking your lips clean, at eye-level with your sorta enemy with benefits’ pretty dick: the married brother of yours, former fratboy, taller than your current will to live.

In hindsight, maybe it is Seokjin’s fault. Once you’re married, you’re supposed to be committed to the cause, and sometimes, an angry little crumb in you finds the audacity to speak, the cause is made up of your four walls: ergo home, ergo your married life, miles away from the absurdity that once filled his university days. You’re being hypocritical, you realize, skin wet, body trembling. In the simplest, most hedonistic terms, you’re done with the chaos in this fraternity and just wished that hooking up was easier. It’s more than a stolen orgasm, a random spur of pleasure and free de-stresser; it’s also something not quite like art but just as peculiar. Sex with Jimin is more than nice, more than a fast rummage of clothes on the floor and panties teared, or condoms stuffed in every single pocket of his jacket.

It should also be noticed that it’s been one hell of a stressful week, okay, which means that it’s one of those times you seek for naked intimacy, in its least literal meaning. You’re looking for something sure, something silent, something earnest. Jimin gives you that in the simplest of forms, in the easiest of ways. It’s not fair for your brother to come unannounced and burst into the house with his adorable laugh and love for his own brothers. Way to ruin the moment, bro.

Jimin blinks attentively when Taehyung laughs, clapping his hands all happy and following the elder’s voice outside the bathroom.

“I’m getting you my clothes.”

“Wait, what?”

His lips part just enough for his tongue to wet them, and your eyes follow in silence the gesture.

“I mean,” he starts, grabbing a towel, “You either come out with me from this bathroom or you don’t.”

He’s concise, yet harsh, words uttered with those soft lips yet are just as hot as a slap in your face. He’s telling the truth, but you soon find out you don’t really like it.

There’s something abrupt and severe in those chosen words, so well picked out because they’re not meant to hurt, but at the same time they’re so worrying. So terrible, practically as hard as a punch in your guts.

You either come out of the bathroom with him — you had been blowing minutes before, hadn’t you? Quite the intimacy, huh? — or you don’t. You stay behind. Different rooms, a whole door to separate you while he’s out with the people he cares about.

Seems legit, but. It’s unfair. You know Jimin isn’t choosing for you, but it’s obvious he’s inclined towards an option between the two, and you’re terrified to discover whether it’s his own desire pushing or what he thinks you want.

You, instead, push the thought aside when you nod, taking the towel from his hands and covering your body from this terrific half hook-up.

Because that’s what it is—that’s what you are.

It dawns upon you like a cold breeze hitting your face in full December, suddenly, and that’s when you realize winter is near. In your mind, this hooking up scenario seemed nicer. Sounded softer, a cute bubble moving slowly in the air.

But now—well, now the bubble has burst, and it feels wrong, and this unexpected wrong doesn’t feel right in your chest, and that’s the story of how you leave the house escaping from his window, in his clothes, with vision blurred by hot, stupid, idiotic tears.

Seulgi is the first one to notice, and, obviously, the first one to speak.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she says, head tilted in a way that’s supposed to be emphatic and worried but comes off as stiff and terrified. “Care to share?”

It’s just a wholesome amount of terrifying stuff, isn’t it? First the shower incident, now Seulgi’s ways not working around you anymore. What’s next? Avoiding Jimin for a whole week? Blocking his number? Losing the smart and beautiful title to your obnoxious brother?

You wouldn’t be surprised, really. Shit like this always happens at the same fucking time.

“It’s nothing. A stressful couple days, maybe? Or maybe I’m getting sick. There’s a guy always coughing during Physics. Maybe it’s his fault, who knows.”

Seulgi unlocks her phone, an unreadable gaze studying you. She gives up a second later, though, her weak maybe reaching your ears when you’ve already looked down on your book.

One simply cannot be annoyed because of a half hook up. Christ. You deserve better than that. You have some dignity left, tainted by everything that’s not Jimin and his harsh, stupid words.

So, your mind offers, while you squint your eyes, I suppose there’s nothing else you could do about it.

Nothing else besides acknowledging it and moving on.

Sounds like a plan. A fireproof plan, an escape plan, something detailed and precise. Planned to work out smoothly; planned to be executed without pain or mistakes.

It’s seven sharp when he knocks, takeout in his left hand, eyes bulging because it’s fucking freezing outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, what the fuck.” He says out loud, indeed. What he receives as an answer is the sound of your tongue clicking, the biggest amount of interest you’ve shown towards him the whole week. He would finally exhale, weren’t it for the fact that this is still pretty traumatic, because if there’s something he’s learned while orbiting around you, is that you’re constantly awake and aware of your surroundings. Your body language says that you pay attention to him, or Seulgi, or whoever you’re talking to. You follow the guy with your eyes, and you listen and nod in all the right places during a conversation, and you search for his dark gaze when he’s fucking you in the dimly lit bedroom, the bed creaking under your sweaty sex making. He’s not admitting it, he never will, and he’ll pretty much deny this to everyone who will ask but: there’s something hot about it. Something burning with the way your body reacts to him, when your eyes follow his actions, while your voice falters when he fucks you right, and it somehow pushes him to the edge every time. It’s the equivalent of Jungkook getting a boner in the gym while catching girls and boys drooling at him, except he’s talking about you and your crazy moans, your magic aura.

And yes, okay, fucking blame him, the realization alone made him jerk off in his room like a teen, twice, yesterday. That’s a fact. That’s barely a fact, alright? This is a truth; a statement soon forgot by the knowers. Obviously.

You look spent, he thinks, if he had to choose a word, dared by some arrogant deity to define the current mess you were. He glances at your barely done ponytail, at the tiredness written all over your face. He takes in your baggy sweater, your quiet beauty, knowing this is gonna be one of those nights you take a step back.

He doesn’t say anything though, instead he brushes the hair on your forehead, not even making contact with your skin.

You grab the bag from his hands, shivering instantly and hoping he doesn’t read the signs. They’re—they’re there, you know, you’re collecting them slowly, one after another, grabbing one and looking cautiously for the following one, hoping it’s not there. Hoping it doesn’t exist.

You exhale a sigh, disguising it as cough, a noise, something distracting Jimin from his silent staring, which is, funnily enough, loud and cacophonic.

“Hungry,” you state, the single word weighting more because of the soft pout on your lips. Jimin hates that he knows what it means, that it’s gonna be just the two of you this time, no chill whatsoever, no bodies touching and melting against each-other. He’s not complaining, what the fuck, he’s not an idiot. He’s not even mad, he’s just—accepting, on a level. This is the point of no return, he guesses, following you on the couch and admiring the laptop’s screen reflected on your face.

He doesn’t say anything when you search for Brooklyn 99 on Netflix, because he’d say everything, otherwise. He’d mumble something along the lines of this feels real, we could do this all the time, or, worst of all: I like this. I like you.

So, in order: he tugs at your sleeves and scoots you closer to him, and you say absolutely nothing at the gesture. He’s ecstatic on the inside, partially terrified, mostly delusional. He pretends he’s something more when you lean on him, the slightest pressure of your head on his shoulder. He cares zero fucks about the show when he’s breathing your scent in and feels how warm you are and shuts his eyelids down when he pictures you adoring him. Liking him. Liking him a whole lot more—

He’s fucked, he realises, hours later, when you doze off and he has to carry you to bed, something you claim of loathing, which—what on earth. It’s an unfathomable absurdity, that’s what it is.

“You can stay.”

His voice falters. “What?”

You cough, eyes closed as you speak sinful words: “The night, I mean. It’s fucking freezing outside.”

His lips form a small o, and it’s hot all of a sudden. “Alright,” he manages, staring at you on your bed, hands fidgety and heartbeat accelerated for some reason, “Make space for me. Hey, fucker. I’m serious. Let me in.”

You do.

(to be continued. ily)

#BTS jimin #bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts smut #bts social media au #bts imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin bts #jimin x reader

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bryan360 · 3 years ago

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Here’s my note before I’ll get started….

(DON’T YOU EVER COPY FROM MINE OR MY FRIEND’S WORK, CHARACTERS, AND STUFF IF ONE OF YOU ARE IMPOSTERS WHO HAD HABITS OF PLAGIARISM! I WILL BLOCK YOU FROM MY BLOG IF I SEE YOUR POST WITH MINE OR MY FRIEND’S ORIGINAL WORK BEING EDITED ALL OVER! I’LL EVEN SHARE IT ONTO MY BLOG SO IF EVERYONE WILL SEE THAT YOU TRYING TO COPY MINE OR MY FRIEND’S THINGS FOR NO GOOD REASON WHATSOEVER! That will be all….I mean it.)

My Cystereo Fusion Glare Authentic Hi-Fi Wireless Earbuds - Part 1 (Box Cover/Unboxing)

Hi guys! It’s been a while since I’ve finally revealed my next item device to share back in Nov. 14th, 2021. After from what I getting through my other tasks like doing a 🦃Thanksgiving drawing though, I’m happy to know that my progress was finished with my PicsArts app’s coloring. And for that, I’m hoping I can a take a break by showing off my next post as of continue through this topic review with those earbuds I’ve owned. However, I can do this once for this week because in 3 days left that I’m supposed to be doing Thanksgiving stuff to share; especially watching on parade through television and what not. I’m really sorry if had to make some change plans a bit, but at least I’m trying my best.

Anyways, here’s part one to show through more of my new Cystereo Wireless Earbuds that I’m getting there in box cover and unboxing....at least so far as I can save the main item and other accessories next time. Thankfully I have lots of photos/pics after doing some past tests in few completion to make. It happens back in 🎃October. 2nd, 2021 when I decided to opening up my item device.

From what I can tell through 1st to 2nd pics on top, it looks interesting from seeing the boxart cover that had two wireless earbuds front and center. Although it had details that what’s build for my earbuds like for its “Environmental Noise Cancellation.” Huh? With it, I can listen through songs from my tablet whether YouTube or on my MP3 app without getting into interruption; especially when I’m still at my family house. I did happen to get through it, but I’ll save it through my future posts soon.

Anyways into the 3rd to 4th pics at second half, it shows more details with its trademark that saids “Qualcomm®️ aptX™️” I looked up by visiting their website for example and it was interesting to know what they also produced all tech items like any company. Link Here I’m hoping that was the case, but just asking.😅 Nevertheless, it does show other details like having its Enhanced EDM Quality, Bio-cellulose Diaphragm Drivers, and having to run 8 hours of playback. (Or in other words) using each earbuds until the batteries would eventually run out through 8 hours or less. If that happens, I’ll simple using the other only item that will help me charge two earbuds until completion. Yes, I'm talking about the charging case once I already opening the box through peeling the tape from behind. At the 5th through 9th pics when I took off one tape to open the box; revealing some instruction manual to read, the case itself, (hoping to included two each earbuds inside) and other accessories in a seal black package. Looks like that all of what to included from the box inside after opening, but not bad how I discovered through it during the beginning.

My thoughts:

There are things I could look forward to do by doing some test which I already covered from past days, but first as I unboxing my latest item back in 🎃October 2021 to share is a good start. Nothing too exciting as for now; it was rather nice to check out what's inside the box and getting some details about what my earbuds build for. Personality, I'm more into its noise cancellation, the sound quality to described, and having 8 hours of playtime before if the battery will runs out. Just wondering if it could help me when I'm getting into bed 😪 at 9:00 P.M. while I using my earbuds to listening to calm and relaxing music through YouTube; if my tablet will have longer battery life to get through the night as well.

Hope you'll guys will like this post I've giving ya, but at least just once before I can do again to continuing on. For now though, I'll be doing some Thanksgiving activities to get into and other stuff that I can't wait to share with my main friend this week. It was a promise that I won't break.

The Reveal (November. 14th, 2021) - Link Here #1

#photos #pics #cystereo #wireless #wireless earbuds #earbuds #box #box cover #cover #unboxing #details #instructions #instruction manual #manual #main item #other accessories #accessories #november 2021 #november 22nd 2021

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slothgiirl · 3 years ago

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try and walk on water 6

You change twice, before ending up in the same leopard print shirt you’d meet Alex in. It had become a favorite of yours. You tuck it into a pair of rick owens leather leggings you’d gotten at the sale of a lifetime on a long layover in France before you ended up knocking around India for half a year.

There.

Wait-

“You look good,” Vi says, not moving a muscle from the couch she’d collapsed onto after a long shift at the hospital. You make her a pot of coffee.

“No-I mean, it doesn’t matter,” you tell her. “It’s not a date.”

“Not a crime to look cute when meeting a friend. In fact, I’d be pressed if you didn’t look cute when we go out for brunch. I literally can’t wait to get bottomless mimosas. Why’d I go to med school again?”

You shrug, “because you wanted free donuts from the doctors of tomorrow club and ended up actually liking it. But also your mom kept bringing up med and pharmacy school.”

“Asian parents man,” Vi complains.

Alex picks you up because no car and you hadn’t even mentioned that you were going to grab an uber when he’d offered. Still, you see him and say, “Sorry for making you drive all the way to Torrance.”

“It's no problem,” Alex smiles. “I like getting to hear music and thinking on a long drive.”

“Yeah, but you drove this way and now we’re going back the way you came. I feel bad.”

“Don’t,” he laughs, looking sleek in dark jeans, a vintage t shirt with an interesting logo, and a different leather jacket. “I don’t mind.”

“You’re full of it.” You tell him sliding into his car. “I googled you.”

“Did you now?” Alex arches a brow and you wish he wasn't wearing sunglasses so you could see his chocolate eyes.

“Yeah,” you laugh, “and then got overwhelmed by the results and closed the browser.”

Alex snorts. “That bad?”

“No! I mean its fine, comes along with the whole band thing but yeah its wild to think about,” you pause. “I-forget I said anything.”

“I like the honesty.”

“Bullshit. I freaked you out. Came on too strong?” You were a little worried. Calling him had been a drunk decision you still weren’t sure about. There was China, then some project in LA that needed brochures for investors and maybe something in Seattle that hadn't panned out yet.

But Alex travelled too.

Maybe you could make it work, if things went well.

“Not at all,” Alex grins sheepishly, “I loathe it more when people just stare and sneak pics instead of just asking.”

“I can see how that would be awful.” You hated getting posted on facebook by your parents, or tagged in some terrible image with a bible quote in neon letters.

Traffic is fine until you hit the city.

“See,” you tell him, “this is why I hate driving.”

“Is it worse than China?”

“Eh. No. Not really. There you have to watch out for cars and bicycles. Not to mention the air quality. As bad as the great london smog or LA in the 60s.” You admit. “I guess I just lack the patience for driving.”

“Its a great way to play some tunes.”

“Stuck in traffic?”

“Yeah,” Alex nods with a smile, “some albums were meant to be heard while high, some were meant to be heard while on a road trip. Road to nowhere while on the road to Vegas is a whole other experience.”

“Okay, yeah I can see the point. . .if someone else is driving.”

Alex laughs.

You like hearing him laugh, his eyes crinkling up, looking boyish in a sexy way that sort of made you want to kiss him.

LA parking is a small fortune, but the ramen is worth it. Alex preservers with a leather jacket even as you both have soup on a sunny LA day, which was 95 percent of LA days.

“Okay so it wasn’t insta hype,” you comment, then ask Alex, “unless you absolutely hate it?”

“No. It’s good.” He nods, “though the bowl’s larger than me head.”

“More hotpot than single serving.”

“What’s hot pot,” he asks.

“Like a family serving of soup. It’s a Vietnamese thing. My friend Vi’s family did it for thanksgiving one year. Way better than turkey.”

“I’m intrigued.” Alex leans back.

It's nice and laid back. It’s the middle of the day so you don’t feel pressured to make this super special and you already made a fool of yourself by asking him out at 3 in the morning.

“I didn’t wake you up or anything, when I called,” you cringe.

“No.” He laughs at your embarrassment, “I was recording. Starting to get the music down. Laid down some sexy basslines.”

“Speaking as a white stripes fan,” you clear your throat, “Is there any other kind of bassline?”

“They didn’t use bass but actually used the guitar to create basslines, though it is a type of guitar to begin with so it’s sort of a chicken and egg situation.” Alex goes on, clearly getting into the specs of musical production and writing.

“Okay,” you giggle, “you got me. I’m a fake fan. If you need photoshop or photorespiration, I’m your girl.”

“Hardly love,” he shakes his head, “I’m pretty sure the fans know the words and find more meaning in the music I create than I do after a while.”

“What, you don’t like your old stuff?”

“Not exactly, but it is a time and place and I move on. It’s like looking back on old pictures, you appreciate it, but it's not you anymore.” Alex explains, playing with the remaining noodles in his bowl. He was right, you were stuffed and it was still half full.

It made sense.

You’d seen those viral youtube videos of singers forgetting their own song lyrics.

“When I see an ad I designed I usually take a selfie and annoy my friends,” you admit. “It's still wild to me that something I made gets plastered in a magazine or on a website.”

“That’s adorable.”

You make a face, “ugh, please don’t make me feel like a five year old.”

“No,” Alex leans forward, “I think it’s bloody great that you’re proud of your work. I just, I dunno, get embarrassed by my lyrics or voice, not the music itself.”

“Ah, like robert pattinson who doesn’t watch his own movies.” You laugh, thinking yeah, it would be incredibly egotistical to listen to your own music a lot.

“Exactly like that.”

You pay for the food, “I insist.”

“No-” Alex argues.

“I invited you so-and you drove,” you protest.

“Does that mean you’ll drive next time,” he teases.

You shake your head, “can’t drive here from Xi’an.”

“You’re leaving already?”

You take the momentary distraction to pay. “Yeah. For the month at least. Then maybe LA again unless it falls through. I dunno. The freelance thing means I can really just spin the globe and throw a dart. Never been to Amsterdam before.”

“Never played China before,” Alex tells you. “What’s the country like?”

“European in that there’ll be ancient ruins next to a skyscraper, and ladies with food stands across from Mcdonalds. I definitely got culture shock my first time but each city is so-it’s cool to be there for a month though it's only scratching the surface. Chongqing is a favorite.”

“Can you speak any chinese?”

“Very badly,” you admit, flushing with embarrassment. “No matter where I go I feel like the dumb american that can like, ask for directions but only knows one language.”

“My mums a german teacher and I still only know english.”

“Okay,” you tell him as you cross the street to one of little tokyo’s shopping plazas, “that makes me feel better. I’m just bad with languages. That area of my brain just sucks.”

Alex laughs.

“I keep meaning to learn french since I go over a lot,” he tells you, “for skiing and paris but it’s still oui, s'il vous plaît, and combien.”

“I find pointing and smiling works in every language.”

He looks over at you with a grin that has your skin buzzing, “you do have a very sweet smile.”

“Sweet?”

“Like seeing the moon during the day,” he shrugs, which clarifies nothing but makes my toes scrunch up inside my shoe. Fuck, you could already feel yourself falling for him.

Alex moved with a gravitational pull, enticing you with his warm eyes and easy smiles.

You look away, suddenly wishing this was a much more sexy date that ended with Alex between your thighs but the thought gives you cold feet. If you were serious about him, you didn’t want to go at 1000 miles an hour.

“Oh,” you cry out in delight, spying your favorite form of coke in a shop window, “mexican cokes!” There was a reason they were better, you just never remembered what it was. “I love those!”

“The ones you get from a taqueria,” Alex asks.

“Yes. They’re great. The one true form of coca cola.” You laugh at yourself. “I sound ridic don’t I?”

“No. I can’t judge. I wrote about dandelion and burdock which you can’t find outside the midlands really.”

You raise a brow, puzzled, “is it any good?”

“I’m biased.” Alex runs a hand through his hair, mussing up his hairdo.

You wanted to be the one messing it up. Yeah, your mind was firmly in the gutter today. You couldn't help it. It was Alex. The getup was ridiculous, right out of a grease themed high school dance but his confidence pulled it off and his jawline spoke for itself. It worked. He looked good, and he knew it which only enhanced the effect.

“I got this crazy craving for mexican food,” you ramble as you go into the market, “in belgium I think it was, but I couldn’t find anything decent which was only worse. The tortillas were all spanish ones, not corn. It’s funny what you miss when you’re in another country. Or even another state. In-and-out has to set up shop in New York.”

Alex laughs, “don’t hate me, but it’s not that good.”

“Oh-” you cover your face with a hand, “you do know it's illegal in california to criticism in-and-out?”

“Stop taking the piss,” Alex snorts.

“It’s true. That’s what actually happened to me,” you grin, “got exiled for saying their fries are thin.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Want a coke?”

Alex nods, “but I’m paying.”

“I’m offering you one!”

“None of that,” he wags his finger at you, “I’m paying and that’s that.”

You frown for a moment before bursting out in laughter. “Okay, okay. I won’t offend your masculinity.”

“What does that even mean,” he asks with a twinkle in his eyes. You’ve never seen a shade of brown so full of warmth, like honey stirred into a pot of tea.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “sometimes I don’t even know what I’m saying. Feel free to tell me to shut up.”

“Well,” Alex leans forward, his breath tickling your skin, “now I’m curious to hear what else you come up with?”

He pays for the cokes and like some genetically passed on trait, eels returning to the sargasso sea, he opens the bottles with his keys.

You sit and watch people go by.

“Seriously,” you utter, “is that what they teach boys when they traumatize girls with the period talk in school.”

Alex doubles over laughing.

“I should've gone into stand up,” you muse, “or maybe I was a court jester in a past life?”

“You were the court jester,” Alex muses, “I was the musician with the harp making eyes at you as a bunch of toffs got pissed.”

“We’re onto something,” you agree, “we should pitch this to the BBC. Keira Knightley can play me.” She was too tall, but you had definitely had a thing for her after watching pride and prejudice. Having your soulmate be an asshole would be awful even if it worked out fine for Elizabeth Bennet.

“Cheers,” he clicks his glass against yours.

Your lipstick smears on the rim. You were surprised there was any lipstick left to be smeared. It usually didn’t survive something as messy as soup.

“You got a little something there,” Alex says, before leaning forward and wiping right under your bottom lip.

His hand on your skin feels electric. You meet his gaze and the air between you becomes charged.

“Lipstick,” you utter softly.

“Yeah.” He runs his thumb over the swell of your mouth deliberately, never breaking eye contact.

Feeling a bout of naughtiness, you part your lips, just a bit, enough for your tongue to wet his thumb the slightest amount, an unmistakable action.

Alex glances down at your mouth, the desire to kiss you written plainly on his features.

You pull away, still parsing out his intentions and your feelings.

You didn’t want this to be a one off thing. The magnitisism since you’d first met him: the way you clicked just right was special. You’re old enough to know that its rare to fit this easily with someone. You can count the people in your life you share this understanding with: your cousin Lea, Vi, and now Alex.

“Want to get mochi for the road,” you ask him, “its not a trip to little tokyo if you don’t get something at Fugetsu-Do.”

“Sure,” Alex pulls away, his eyes still raking over you in such a way that makes a shiver run down your back. “Speaking of things you have to do in LA,” he smirks full of mischief and the promise of more of what was building between you both, “you been out to Venice yet?”

“No,” you shake your head, getting up, “there's so much to do that I haven’t go down to the beach, any beach. Venice over Santa monica pier for sure. But Laguna knocks it out of the park.”

“I feel like that was a show.”

“Yeah, on MTV. I love a dumb reality tv show. It's practically modern day shakespeare.”

“Pfft, no way.”

You give him a look. “Shakespeare was low brow in his day. I might have sparknoted all his plays but I did remember that fun fact.”

You make it as far as the parking lot before the pressure implodes and you kiss Alex in his car. The gear stick digs into your side, but you hardly care when Alex has his hand cupping your cheek: his other hand trails down to the small of your back, the flesh there all gooseflesh. It’s been so long since you felt this good kissing someone. It was more than purely physical when Alex sucks on your bottom lip and your breath hitches and you feel his lips curve into a smile against your mouth.

You hardly know him, but you’re already all in.

It's the sound of his laugh and the way Alex rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumb and how he’d found your terrible running commentary funny. He’d spent lunch look at you even when his phone rang.

Fuck.

You clutch the soft leather of his jacket in your fingers as you get drawn further in, practically in his lap. You part your lips and run your tongue along the seam of his mouth, a toe curling throb of pleasure and self satisfaction going straight to your core when his groans into you.

It’s the way the sun is setting and his car is parked with a perfect view of the ocean gone ruby but Alex is too busy looking at your to care about the egg yolk star dipping below the horizon.

“You’d like Xi’an,” you say as an invitation.

“Oh yeah,” Alex utters softly, oriented towards you, his hand lazily stroking the side of your face with the back of his hand.

“Mhm.”

“I think you’re right.”

#Alex Turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #mine #try and walk on water

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jvnghxope · 4 years ago

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love sewn | final

final part;

◦ pairing: Jungkook | reader

◦ genre: boy next door au; fluff, angst

◦ word count: 9k

◦ warnings: angst, mentions of self-hatred, cheating, infidelity

◦ abstract: You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

⇥ prologue | part one | part two | part three | final

◦ a/n: It took me a lot more than anticipated to edit it, but it is finally here! Thank you so much for all your love and support. I hope you have enjoyed this ride as much as I did.

A numb feeling spreads throughout your body as you stare dumbfounded to his cellphone.

You don't know if their conversation continues and you don't care. It's like your mind has shut down. You feel a giant knot inside your throat like you just swallowed a big-ass pill without water. This is awfully like that night two years ago and you feel the breath hitch in your throat.

“Hey," Jungkook says as he appears in the hallway, dressed in jeans and a naked torso as he slides inside a t-shirt. “I was thinking we could go to this park after breakfast. It has a majestic view and you can draw something and I could take some pics– What’s wrong?” He asks the moment he sees your expression and then, his eyes fall to the cellphone.

“You have, hmm, a new text,” you say as calm as you can and hand him his phone.

Maybe it's not a good idea that you stay here. Yes. You need to go. You move past him to walk to his bedroom but he stops you, taking your wrist.

"Did you read these texts?" He asks. A part of you expected him to be mad at you for invading his privacy, but he sounds more worried than anything.

"It was not my intention," you reply, your voice just above a whisper. "I wanted to check the hour…"

"Let me explain."

“There’s no need to explain.”

"It is not what you think."

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him.

"What I think is that you have unresolved feelings for your ex."

There, you said it. The confusion in Jungkook's eyes only confirms it. He has an internal struggle.

"It is complicated," he finally says.

At that, you smile. "I know."

You can assume by his expression that he feels genuinely torn.

“Jungkook," you murmur, taking the hand that was holding your wrist in yours and squeezing it tightly. "I am not your girlfriend. You don’t owe me anything.”

Words that are hard to pronounce but the truth behind them might give him some perspective.

He shakes his head, "Don't do that."

You frown, "Do what?"

"Minimize this," he points at you and him. "Come here." He tugs you by the hand and leads you to his couch.

"I hate to burst your bubble Kook, but we had one date."

He nods, "I know. We might not be a couple. But that was something I was hoping we could be in the future. That we've dated once doesn't change the way I feel about you."

The small layer of ice that was beginning to form around your heart warms at his words.

"What about Zoe? Do you still love her?"

He sits there, silently, pondering his answer carefully.

"I'm going to be honest with you," he starts and your heart clenches, already fearing his words. "I don't know. I haven't seen her or spoken to her for over a year. But she was a big part of my life. I just can't forget her completely."

You nod. You understand that. "I'm not asking you to do that. I just… I think we moved too fast. Last night–"

"I don't regret what happened between us," he snaps. "Not at all. I thought I made myself clear when I told you about my feelings. I know I am a mess, and yes, maybe it was too quick. But last night was genuine and beautiful. I would do it again."

The tears sting in your eyes. Jungkook caresses your cheek with his thumb when one of them falls.

"Last night was special for me too. But there's something you need to understand. I don't think I could be with you until you resolve this. I don't want to be insensitive or selfish, or anything. I just know that, if we continue this, if we continue living inside a bubble, one day it will burst and someone is going to get hurt. What if when you meet her again you realize your feelings for her haven't changed at all? The three of us will be in a more complicated situation than none of us want to be. Believe me."

At this point, the tears are cascading freely down your cheeks.

"Don't you think that is a little pessimistic?"

You sniff and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, "It is realistic. I've been in the same position before. I've been the second choice and I don't want to be again. So, I think I should go."

You stand from the couch.

"Wait!" He stops you. "What does that mean for me? For us?"

"I think that's up to you. But, for now, maybe we should take some time to think and revalue our situation."

He chuckles dryly, "That sounds awful to 'I don't want to see you anymore'. I don't blame you. I wish things were different."

"Maybe right now it was not our time."

"I don't believe that. Everything happens for a reason."

Ugh. Even in times like this, he is so stubborn. He stands from the couch, too. His eyes are red and he looks defeated. It only makes your heart sink even more. You hate seeing him like that. You wish things were different, too.

Summoning all the courage you have, you take his face between your hands and raise on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. Jungkook's arms find their way around your waist.

"Take care of yourself, Jungkook."

You murmur against his ear, hugging him. At that, his arms tighten around you.

"Is this goodbye?" He asks, his voice strained and face buried on your hair. You choose to not reply and give him one last kiss to his cheek.

After you've gathered all your stuff, you walk towards the door. But when your hand touches the doorknob, you hesitate.

Is this really the right choice?

It is, you tell yourself. And with that, you walk out of his apartment without looking back.

Seeing you walking away broke his heart in a million pieces.

He wanted to run after you so bad. Hug you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he didn’t. He knew he needed to let you go. If seeing you walking was heartbreaking, seeing you cry because of him almost killed him.

Waking up the next day after your departure felt surreal. Like he was dreaming. For a moment, he forgot what happened the night prior. He stood up and made himself something to eat. As he was breeding some coffee, he was waiting for your arrival like every Monday morning. But of course, that didn’t happen. You didn’t come. And then it hit him. You didn’t swing his door open with that smile of yours he adores so much.

He wanted to call, even send a text. But every time he picked up his phone, his mind was blank. Would you pick up if he called? If so, what should he say? He wished things were different. He wished he met you in different circumstances.

He avoided all of Zoe’s attempts to approach him, too. Every call, every text since the last one. It has been a year. She had all those months to do it. Why was she contacting him now when his life was somewhat normal? She made everything more complicated than it already was.

“...so, that’s the reason why we should keep it casual,” Yoongi finishes the sentence and turns to his friend. “Are you even paying me attention?”

“W-what?” Jungkook blurts.

“That’s a no,” Yoongi giggles and punches him softly on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I logged out for a second." Jungkook rubs his temples and takes a sip of the coffee he left on the table. It is not even hot anymore, but the taste is enough to give him some comfort.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks. When Jungkook nods, he hums. "You don't seem okay."

Jungkook glares at his friend.

“Yeah. I was just… thinking,” he says. "I have a lot in my mind."

"Yeah, no wonder."

It is strange. He sometimes forgets how close to you he has become in the past few months. He is probably aware of the whole ordeal from both sides.

"Shut up."

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something snarky but gets interrupted by a newcomer: a cute redhead in a pretty business dress.

"Hello. My name is Lisa and I’m the assistant of miss Hyeri. She will receive you now," she greets them and urges them to follow her.

Then the realization hits him. Jungkook and Yoongi are about to have an important meeting with one of the curators of the most important museums in town. He doesn't have the time to be nervous because the next second the receptionist is opening one of the many wooden doors.

A gasp falls from his mouth at the sight of the meeting room. It is both mesmerizing and massive. Most of the space is occupied by an enormous table. A woman is waiting for them at the end of the table. Jungkook recognizes her from the gala.

"Min Yoongi, Jeon Jungkook" Hyeri greets them and shakes their hands. "Please, take a seat. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Maybe something to eat?"

“I’ll have a cup of tea, thank you,” Yoongi says. Lisa nods and disappears through the door. Not much longer after that, she reappears with a cup of hot tea.

“I’m so glad you guys could meet us here with so short notice.”

“It is no problem,” Yoongi comments after taking a sip of his tea.

"We were wondering why we are here,” Jungkook adds.

“Oh, right,” she claps. “I have good news. One of my permanent artists recently decided to part ways with the museum and now that we have a free spot, we would like to offer it to you guys.”

For a moment, they just stare at her with wide eyes and mouth agape. Yoongi is the first one to jump into action.

“Seriously?”

Neither of them can believe it.

Hyeri nods with a smile. “The Museum is a big fan of your work. I've been following it for over a year. It is really impressive what you guys have accomplished.”

“Wow. That means a lot coming from you. Thank you,” Jungkook musters and then exchanges a look with Yoongi, slightly panicked. He has always admired Yoongi’s ability to hide his emotions. He is there, completely serious when Jungkook is freaking out. He is both excited and afraid. They have never had a boss. Never had to meet deadlines. To be honest, Jungkook is not very good with deadlines. He likes to work at his own pace.

“So, how would it work?” Yoongi asks.

“Unless there is a special occasion, we change the exhibitions every month or two months. If you agree to work with us, you’ll have a little over a month to work on your first one.”

“Will we have creative flexibility?” Jungkook interjects.

"Totally. Unless there is a special theme or it violates our politics, you are free to create what you want.” Then, she hands them a folder. "Everything is explained in the contract. You can check it out. There is a money offer too. If you want to change it, we are open to negotiation." As if in cue, Lisa opens the door and waits with a smile. “I apologize but I don’t have more time. Please, feel free to arrange another meeting with Lisa whenever you have an answer. I look forward to hearing from you guys.”

"No, it’s okay. We understand. Thank you again for receiving us," Yoongi says as he shakes the curator's hand. Jungkook does the same.

"Thank you so much for coming. Have a nice day," she has enough time to wave them goodbye before her phone starts to ring.

They follow Lisa out of the door with dumb smiles and full of hope.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook opens the door of their gallery.

“I didn’t expect that,” he musters as Yoongi closes the door behind them.

“Then why did you expect?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know. A part of me thought she wanted to steal Vante from us.”

Yoongi snorts, “And why would she tell us?”

“Good manners?”

“Right.”

"Anyway. It sounds like a good offer, right?"

"Yeah," Yoongi answers. "I gave it a quick check. They are willing to pay us twice the money we earn in two months at the gallery. That sounds pretty good. But I want to call Taekwoon, first. Maybe he can come next week to check the contract before we make a decision."

"Good idea," Jungkook agrees.

“Why are we here, anyway?” Yoongi asks while scrolling down his contacts.

"I need to pick something up from the office. Do you want to go to grab something for lunch? I am starving and in the mood for Thai food.”

“Can I pick the restaurant?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Sure.”

He leaves Yoongi in the entrance as he makes his way to the office. It was Yoongi's idea to have the office behind a hidden door. More like an office is more like storage. They keep there all the photographs and paintings. Theirs and their artists. But Jungkook didn’t find what he was looking for there. So, he returns to his friend.

“Hey, Yoongs. Do you know where is the portfolio of my trip to Machu Picchu? I don't find it and I want to use some pictures in the next exhibition…"

Jungkook stops on his tracks and a gasp falls from his lips.

"Zoe…"

She is there, Jungkook's ex, standing in front of him with a very awkward Yoongi.

"What are you doing here?" He manages to ask after staring at her for a couple of awkward minutes.

"I came to see you,” she says and the sound of her voice moves something inside his chest.

"You can stand,” he blurts.

"Yeah,” she laughs, embarrassed. “We have a lot to talk about."

Jungkook's face turns to Yoongi. "Go," his friend says. "I'll wait at your apartment and I'm still picking the food."

Twenty minutes later, they are both in one of the cafes near the gallery.

Jungkook shifts awkwardly on his seat.

“So, about what you wanted to talk about?”

"Well, I don't know where to start." Zoe takes a sip of her latte nervously.

And that is what sets him off.

“Since when can you walk?” He tries so hard not to sound mad but that is an impossible task. All the anger that he has been holding back for a year is finally pouring off of him.

"Two weeks after the accident, I started to feel the tip of my toes. After a month, I could feel my legs completely. After a lot of physical therapy, I finally can walk without any type of help."

Her face lights up at the memory and Jungkook doesn't know if he feels relieved or still angry. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He deadpans. "Picking up the phone was really that hard?”

Zoe gulps at that. “I wanted to reach you, but I was not in a good place. I was dealing with a lot and my body was getting used to the medication again…”

“A text would have been enough... “ he counters attacks. “Do you even realize how I lived the next months? How hard was it? I know is nowhere near what you have been through, but living with the guilt… almost broke me."

At this point, tears are running down Zoe's cheeks and his heart clenches.

"I know I'm late, but I am so sorry." She reaches out to grab his hand. He stiffens but doesn't pull away. "Jungkook, the accident was not your fault." Somehow, those words managed to lift some weight off Jungkook’s heart. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until now. Especially from her. It is like he can breathe properly again. “I know what I said. I regretted it the moment I said those words. You didn't ruin my life… You saved me.”

Jungkook can’t help but snort. “Saved you? How? I almost killed us!”

A soft smile spreads across her face. “That night, I was in the middle of a crisis. I was a danger to myself and others around me. You might not understand how much you helped me that night. Despite what happened.”

She uses one of the napkins to wipe her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Maybe I could have done something more.”

“It was nothing personal,” Zoe replies, taking a sip of her already cold coffee. “I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 12. When I told my friends, they started to look at me weirdly. Like with pity. I couldn't bear the look in their eyes. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me. So, when I started high school, I decided to not tell anyone about it. Ever since then, only my family knew about it.”

Jungkook nods, understanding.

“I was feeling so good,” she continues. “In my stupidity, I stopped using the medication. I thought I didn’t need them anymore. The first month I was okay. Fine, actually. It was in the second month when the problems started. I guess it was around the time we started fighting over nonsense…”

Jungkook finds himself squeezing her hand in comfort. Of course, he remembers those fights. But right now, they don't seem important anymore.

“But, are you okay now?”

She sniffs. No matter how many times she wipes her eyes, the tears keep coming. “Yeah. The medication is working. These last two months are the first time I’ve been genuinely happy in the last year.”

A smile tugs the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Who is he?”

Zoe looks at him with wide eyes, “What?”

Jungkook chuckles at the way she is looking at him. “I know you like the back of my hand. Who is he?”

Suddenly, Zoe’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “I met a guy in my support group three months ago. He is an athlete too, with an injury in recovery. We officially started dating a month ago. It's pretty new.”

“He makes you happy?”

“Yes," she says with a radiant smile enough to light up the entire cafe.

"Did you tell him about it?"

She chuckles, "Yes. I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

“Good. I am really happy for you.” He offers her a smile.

It is true. There is no jealousy. He really feels happy that Zoe found someone that understands her and what she's been going through.

“Thank you,” she smiles back. “What about you?”

“Me?” Jungkook can’t hide his surprise and a smirk appears in Zoe’s lips. She still looks beautiful with puffy eyes and smudged mascara.

"Come on. I know you too like the back of my hand. I know how your 'I'm sad because a girl' face looks like. What's up?"

"Do you remember my neighbor? ____?"

She nods. "She's really beautiful. What about her?"

“Well, we had one date," he confesses.

“And? How was it?” Zoe asks excitedly and Jungkook smiles shyly. Talking about you makes his heart flutter.

“Good. Really good, actually. I asked her to be my date at the gala.”

“That’s so cute. So, are you two a thing now?” She coos.

“No," he says and Zoe notices the change in his mood right away. "It is complicated."

"What happened?"

"There was a misunderstanding… I think… And you are involved.”

Zoe chokes on her coffee. “Me? Why?”

“She thinks I still have feelings for you and I was not much of a help either.”

"Do you still have feelings for me?"

"No."

"And why didn't you tell her that?" She accuses him.

"Because I was confused when she asked me!" He exclaims. Zoe frowns and he raises a hand before she starts to speak. "We didn't talk for a year. Our relationship ended literally out of nowhere. We didn't have the time or the will to talk about it. So, I buried my feelings. At the time, they were not worth dwelling on."

Zoe shifts on her seat. “It makes sense. I think we can both agree that we shared something magical, passionate and it didn't last that much. We never get the chance to celebrate our first anniversary."

Jungkook chuckles, sharing the nostalgia. "Yeah. We had a lot of plans for that day."

“Sometimes I think we were so stubborn and more in love with the idea of love rather than with each other. If the accident it would not have happened, maybe we would have broken up in the next couple of months.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. We need to admit we were not compatible enough,” Zoe shrugs with a smile. “Anyway. One of the reasons I contacted you, besides apologizing to you, of course…”

“Of course.”

She ignores him, “...is because I miss you and I want us to be friends.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Really?”

Jungkook throws her a bag of sugar, “What do you mean ‘really’? You know my family abandoned me a long time ago. So I made a new one: Yoongi and you. For a while, we were only the three of us and everything was fine. One night, that changed. I lost a member of my family. Again. Of course, I want you in my life.”

“Owww, Jungkook…” She wipes fake tears. “I forgot you were such a corny.”

He snorts.

“I’m going to get another coffee and then you can tell me everything about her and we could come up with a plan because I didn’t raise you to be this stupid.”

And with that, she stands up and walks towards the bar.

Just like that, two old friends reunite. As the last months never happened.

The next day Jungkook wakes up feeling as light as a feather. It felt nice to talk with an old friend. He feels like Seokjin, Anna and the other guys are more friends of yours than his. It feels nice to have someone else by his side besides Yoongi. Finally, he feels he can breathe properly again. After a year of living full of guilt. Now, he can finally move on with his life. He spends the morning thinking about what he should do next.

He was looking for some of his old photos when he finds one of your sketchbooks. You must have left it here the last time you visited. He knows how important the sketchbooks are for you. They are like a window to your soul. He needs to return them. With that in mind, he takes the sketchbook and walks to your apartment.

If things were as they used to, he would enter unannounced and straight to your room. But things are different. Now, he knocks as any normal slash civil neighbor and waits. Some minutes pass before he realizes there's no one inside. Jungkook sighs disappointed. Part of him wanted to see you again.

"Jungkook?" Someone behind him calls his name. "What are you doing here?"

Seokjin is standing behind him with a lot of bags of groceries.

“Hey," he greets him. "____ forgot one of her sketchbooks at my place. I was wondering if I could leave it in her bedroom."

Seokjin nods, “Do you mind helping me first?”

"Ah, yes," he takes a couple of bags of Seokjin's arms.

“Thank you."

Seokjin opens the door and Jungkook follows him inside. Seokjin places the bags in the kitchen counter and throws the keys into the table.

“Wow, these are a lot of groceries.”

Seokjin smiles sheepishly, “Yeah. I want to perfect some recipes.”

“More than they already are?”

He chuckles, “Yes. I want everything ready when I open my new restaurant?”

“Wait a minute,” Jungkook gasps. “When did that happen?”

He suddenly feels bad for not keeping in touch with him after the little fight he shared with you. His friend only shrugs, keeping his hands busy as he places the ingredients he is not going to use at the moment in their respective cabinet.

“I bought a nice place downtown last week,” he confesses. “But I’ve been planning it for a while now. It seemed like the next step.”

“Wow, congratulations!” Jungkook beams and pats Seokjin’s shoulder over the counter.

“Thanks,” the older replies. “Actually, I may need your assistance with something.”

“What can I do for you?”

"Someone told me you are good at video editing."

A small blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks, “I wouldn’t say good, but I am decent enough. What do you want to do?”

"I figured if Gordon Ramsay can teach cooking through videos, I can show my recipes too. Will you help me?"

"Of course."

The elder hums and a comfortable silence fall upon them. After a while, Jungkook’s gaze shifts toward the hallway that leads to your room. Seokjin notices, even when he is busy chopping some vegetables.

"___ is not here," he comments.

"Oh…" Jungkook already knows that but that doesn’t mean that he feels any less disappointed. "Is she out?"

Seokjin nods, "She went to visit her sister for the weekend. I thought she told you.”

“Well, we are not exactly in speaking terms,” Jungkook confesses, his eyes falling to his hands. "When is she coming back?"

"Possibly Monday after work,” Seokjin throws the vegetables he just chopped to a strainer. “What happened between you two?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Jungkook asks surprised.

He shrugs apologetically, “Kind of. But every story has two versions."

At that, he stays quiet. Seokjin doesn't push him to talk, which Jungkook is thankful for. The elder keeps doing his magic in the kitchen and soon it starts to smell really good.

“A year ago,” Jungkook starts. “I was in a car accident with my former girlfriend. I was driving. She was the most affected. She had several injuries. She blamed me for everything and I accepted that blame. We didn’t talk or saw each other for a while until she contacted me the night of the gala. She wanted to talk. ___ saw it. We had a little… argument about it.”

“What happened?”

Jungkook's face return to look at his friend.

"That night was our first date. I was so excited and nervous. I have never felt like that about someone before. The date went pretty well. Until she saw the text."

He can still see your face. Trying so desperately not to cry but failing nonetheless. It has been printed behind his eyelids.

“She told me that we couldn’t be together until I figured my feelings for my ex. She started to ask questions I couldn’t answer at the moment. I’ve been confused for a long time and denied it for a while.” Jungkook groans and buries his face inside his hands. "I think I ruined everything with her."

“No, you didn’t.” Jungkook raises to meet Seokjin’s gaze. "Is valid to have unresolved feelings when your relationship ended abruptly. Especially after a tragedy. You didn't get closure."

"You didn't see her face." Jungkook chuckles dryly when a shot of tequila appears in front of him. It reminds him of when things were less complicated.

"She is hiding."

"Why?"

Seokjin shrugs, "You know her. Her heart is bigger than her body. She is the type to help strangers when they are at their lowest. She is that selfless."

Jungkook blushes at that. He still feels bad at the way he treated you those first days.

“But when it comes to romantic feelings… She is scared."

"Why?" Jungkook finds himself asking. You never told him about his past relationships and he never asked.

"Someone broke her heart," Seokjin confesses with a sad smile. "It took her some time to recover from that."

"What happened?" He whispers.

"Well…"

Three years ago.

"So, when is the opening night?" You asked Seokjin over the phone. You searched inside your handbag for your key.

"Next week," he replied and then groaned. "I still haven't found the perfect hostess."

"Jinnie, everything is going to be fine. You are an amazing chef. Everyone in the city is going to love your food,” you tried to calm him. “You’ll find the perfect hostess before you know it.”

"Thank you," he replied gratefully, "You are coming, right?"

You tsked, "Of course."

You opened your front door and placed the keys over the small table near the entrance. You made your way towards the kitchen.

"Are you going to bring some of your stuff? Anna brought some boxes the last time she visited and she is going to move in next month. I found this cute apartment. It is kind of expensive, but considering we're four…"

"Yeah, about that…"

"You haven't spoken with Jimin, have you?" He interjected before you could continue. It was impressive how well he could read you even when he was a mile away.

"I will! Is just… Everything is moving so quickly. You moved to the city 6 months ago and you are going to open your restaurant in a week. Anna found a good job. What if I don't get the internship?"

You finally voiced your worries.

"You will," he assured you. "You are really talented. And if they don’t, there are other companies you can apply for."

"I know. Thank you, Jin. I really needed to hear that today," you said as you took your bag from the counter and walk to the mini-studio. "I promise I'll talk to Jimin and of course I will be on your opening night."

"Sounds good!" He chimed. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I left something in the oven."

And he hung up before you could say goodbye. You chuckled and placed your phone over your desk. With a sigh, you took your sketchbook out of your bag and opened it. You meant to work on your designs to finish your portfolio but your stomach suddenly growled.

"Jimin! Do you want to grab dinner?"

When it became apparent you were not going to get a reply, you left the studio and went to the bedroom. Till then, you didn't realize how quiet the apartment was. You frowned. You were 90% sure Jimin's car was at the parking lot. But then again, one of your neighbors had the same car.

The bedroom door was half-opened and you heard the faint sound of the shower. Entering the room, you were about to scroll through Uber Eats when you noticed someone lying on your bed and it was not Jimin.

"Hmmm, Who are you, and why are you lying in my bed?" The blond girl staring at you looked… worried. She opened her mouth but got interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

"Hey babe," Jimin murmured, a towel around his waist. "I think you should go. My girlfriend will arrive soon…" He stopped the moment he saw you, standing there, in your shared bedroom.

Every word felt like a dagger. Your suspicions were confirmed. Your boyfriend was cheating on you. You wanted to cry, scream, throw stuff, destroy everything around you. But you were frozen in the same spot, unable to do anything your aching heart craved to.

Maybe it was a dream. Yes. You were still sleeping and this was a nightmare. Your mind couldn't wrap around the fact of Jimin –your sweet and lovely Jimin– doing such thing as betray you.

The sound of your name brought you back to the painful reality. You gathered all the courage you could to look at him.

"What it this, Jimin?" You managed to whisper.

It was a dumb question to ask when the answer was right in front of you, but a part of you wanted to be a misunderstanding, still hoping this was a sick joke.

Jimin, the man you fell in love with, was looking at you with so much sadness that it made you sob.

"Please let me explain. I never meant to hurt you. You were not supposed to know like this."

What was he talking about?

"Know what? That you were cheating on me?" You said. "Is this the first time?"

"I wish I could say yes."

What?

Involuntarily, your eyes turned to the woman you found in your bed. At least she was dressed now, a pretty sundress hugging her body. You gulped. Did he found her prettier than you? At that moment, when you were using a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you definitely felt she was prettier than you. You hated to feel this way.

"Why?" You finally found the courage to ask him.

"Don't pretend you haven't felt how we've drifted apart."

Oh, you noticed. He had been weird the last couple of months. At first, you thought it was because of school. He gets really moody when it comes to exams. But he graduated and things were the same. There was less communication. He used to be your best friend… And now was like you lived with a stranger with whom you happened to have sex occasionally.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but you didn’t want to push Jimin in to talk about something he was not ready to share. Who would know that something was him cheating on you?

“Is that enough reason?”

“My parents are getting divorced,” he confessed then, taking slow steps into your direction. Your whole body tensed. The last thing you needed was him to get closer. “My father started to drink again.” You opened your mouth to say something but Jimin raised a hand. “No, please. Let me finish.” You pursed your lips and let him continue. “I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. You were busy working at the cafe or working with your designs… They were not yours to handle, so I didn't tell you anything. Then, I met Hannah at one of my lectures. We clicked right away. I invited her for a coffee one day and it was like I could tell her anything."

"And you fell in love with her," you finished for him. You felt hot tears running down your cheeks. You couldn't hold them anymore.

"___, you need to understand…" he took another step closer. “I never meant to hurt you.”

"Well, you definitely did a great job. Why didn't you tell me when you realized that you had feelings for another woman?" You confronted him. By the look on his face, you guessed that was not a question he was expecting. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you looked at him expectantly.

“I-I tried… But I couldn’t find the right time…”

He was close enough to take your hands in his. You tried to pull away but he didn’t let you. “Really? In the six months, you’ve known her, you couldn’t mention something?”

“How am I supposed to tell the person who used to be the most important to me that I may have feelings for another woman?”

If you were not feeling like your whole world is crumbling down, you probably should’ve noticed the desolated expression in Jimin’s face.

“You are talking in past tense…” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you repeated.

Fresh tears fall down cheeks. You closed your eyes. Suddenly, something warm pressed against your skin. Jimin’s fingers. Your eyes slowly fluttered open. Fixed on his face, it was the first time you realized they were tears on his cheeks. Jimin was crying too. A pair of strong arms encircled your body and pushed you against him. You resisted at first, but he was holding you with so much force. Being between his arms for the last time was the last thing you could handle and you found yourself hugging him back tightly. Three years of your life were slipping between your fingers like water and there was nothing you could do about it.

It was over…

“I’m sorry, ___,” he chanted against your hair. “I am so sorry…”

That night, you drove all the way to the city and never looked back.

When Seokjin finishes the story, Jungkook is speechless.

His heart aches for you, for what happened to you.

“She was broken. It took her a while to recover. She is strong. She just needs some time.”

“I just miss her a lot…”

“I know.”

His friend offers him a smile and continues with his handiwork in the kitchen.

Jungkook stays silent in the next 20 minutes, lost inside his mind. It takes him some time to take everything in. Now, he understands why you reacted the way you did and wishes he handled the situation better. His trail of thought is interrupted when Seokjin places a bowl of homemade noodles in front of him. It smells delicious.

“Eat up. I want your opinion.”

“Thank you.”

The sound of a door being opened catches his attention and Anna appears in the hallway.

“Oh, Kook. You are here,” she greets him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” She sits in the stool beside him and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.

“Good. How about you?”

“Full of work but I smell Jinnie’s special noddles and I realized I was starving,” she was and takes a mouthful of noddles.

“Where can I leave ____’s sketchbook?”

“You can leave it at the studio. I’ll tell her you left it there,” Anna says.

Jungkook nods.

The rest of the meal, they talk about random stuff. Jungkook tells them the news about his possible new partnership with a museum and Seokjin talks more about the plans he has for his new restaurant. Soon, the moon sets and Jungkook is full of deserts. Before leaving, he walks to the studio and places the sketchbook on your desk. He takes a blank sheet from Anna’s desk and a pen and he starts writing:

Dear ___…

"So, in conclusion, you ran away because you are scared," she murmurs softly.

“Did you even heard what I just said?”

“I did and you are an idiot,” she stands from the couch and walks to the kitchen. “Do you want more ice cream?”

“Yeah.” You follow after her. “Do you really think I am an idiot for leaving him there?”

“Yes, I do.” She notices your panic. “Look. I know you are afraid. But this is not the same situation. The story isn’t repeating.”

She serves two more balls of chocolate ice cream into the bowls.

"I don’t want to live that hell of self-hatred again. It took me a while to understand it was not because of me and even more to realize Jimin and I were not meant to be. So yeah, I ran. I thought Jungkook would have chosen his ex if he needed to choose. They have a long story."

She squeezes your hand, "And you removed yourself from the equation so he wouldn’t have to choose." You nod. “That’s why I think you are an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious. He can choose you. There is a possibility. But you decided to run instead to fight for him.”

She takes the bowls and returns to the living room. Then, she turns Netflix off. You stopped paying attention to the movie anyway. You lay down and place your head on her lap with your bowl of ice cream over your stomach. You feel so tired.

"Let’s get this clear. For what you have told me, it looks like he likes you a lot. You were his muse at the gala!" She starts to pet your hair softly, "Listen. I know it hurts. Sometimes, you just need to take the risk. You can't hide here forever. Whatever that happens, you'll be fine. You have me and your friends."

You shift your body to face her, "Thank you. I really needed to hear that."

She grins, "What is family for?"

You stayed with your sister the whole weekend, eating tons and tons of ice cream and watching tons and tons of movies. It was soothing and calming. It helped you get your mind off the situation. And it gave you time to think.

You were back at your apartment morning-evening after work. You are finishing unpacking when Seokjin enters your room.

“How it went?” He sits at the end of your mattress.

“Pretty good! I missed my sister a lot.”

“Maybe you should visit her more often,” he jokes.

You giggle, "She told me the same thing. How was your weekend?"

Now that all your clothes are scattered all over your bed, you throw all the dirty ones into your laundry basket.

"Good. I tried a new noodle recipe... and Jungkook came looking for you."

He is playing with one of your jeans, folding and unfolding them.

You drop what you are doing immediately, "Really? What did he want?"

You try to keep a serene face but on the inside, you were going crazy. The tiny smile on Seokjin’s lips only confirms that you are not very good at hiding your emotions. You’ve lost your touch.

"He brought your sketchbook back," Seokjin says. "Apparently, you left it at his place. It is at your desk."

"Oh… Thank you."

"I’ll have dinner ready in 20 minutes." Seokjin smiles sweetly and walks out of your room.

You finish unpacking and tidying everything up before going to the studio. You left Jungkook’s place in such a rush that you forgot that your sketchbook was even at his place. You run your fingers over the leather cover. It is one of the fewest sketchbooks that you own that doesn’t have anything to do with your work or designs. It is more like a journal were you draw anything that came to your mind. Flipping through the pages, you remember that one time when Jungkook took you to his favorite park. According to him, the sunset looked majestic from there and he wanted to take some snaps. You were supposed to draw it but Jungkook's beauty was more enticing and you end up drawing him.

You keep going through the pages for a while. The sketchbook is full of memories of him… of memories of your times together. There is this one, where you draw the two of you. But before you arrive at that page, you receive a call from Anna. Dinner is ready. With a smile, you place your sketchbook with the others you’ve finished in the box under your desk unaware of the fact that there is a letter Jungkook wrote for you.

One year later.

It is Monday morning and you are at your office. It is surprising how much work can accumulate in one weekend. The workload helps you to ignore the curious glances Taehyung sends your way since you arrived at the office. It becomes pretty annoying at the meeting you both attend to check some details about the newest collection before sending it for approval.

Around 11 am, you go to the coffee station to make yourself some tea. Taehyung is there, too, taking some coffee. And there’s the stare again. “Some say a picture lasts longer.”

He chokes on his coffee. You take your favorite mug from the countertop and purr hot water. Today is chamomile day.

"Are you okay?" You ask him. He nods like he has not been acting weirdly all morning.

"Yeah. I am okay." He leaves his now empty cup in the sink. "Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?"

"From someone in particular?"

"You know what? Forget it. I'll see you at lunch."

And he walks out of the coffee station before you could ask him what he meant.

Yep. He is definitely acting really weird.

The rest of the morning passes quickly and you don't have the opportunity to confront Taehyung about his weird behavior. He is hiding something. That much is true.

Exactly one hour before lunch, your phone buzzes, and for a split second your heart rate increases until you see the caller ID. It is your sister.

"Hello?"

"Hey, stranger!" she chimes. "How are you?"

"I'm fine! A little busy. And you?"

"Good! At what time you leave your office?"

"At 5PM. Why?"

"I have a surprise for you: I am in the city! So, I was wondering if you want to have dinner with me today."

"Wait, is everything okay?" You sit straight. If something is wrong, she would have told you, right?

"Yeah, silly. Don't worry. I came to buy some stuff and, of course, visit you. So, do you want to go to dinner or what?"

You giggle, relieved. "Sure." You start to think of possible choices. It is the third time your sister comes to the city. You want to take her to somewhere special. "Do you want to go to Seokjin's new restaurant?"

"That sounds perfect."

"Good. Let me text you the address."

You put the phone on speaker to find the message with the address Seokjin sent to you a while ago. You know how to arrive there but you don't remember the street name.

You do small talk with your sister as you do your search, but your Skype goes crazy out of nowhere.

"Hey," you interject between her story. "I will text you the address later. My boss is looking for me."

"Ok. Don't worry. I'll see you tonight."

You arrive at 7:15pm at Seokjin's restaurant.

In less than 6 months, the restaurant is now one of the most exclusive restaurants and one of the best places to eat. That's why the place is at full capacity for Monday night and there are even more people outside waiting for a table or place at the bar.

Tonight Seokjin is the host. He receives you with a heartwarming smile.

"Your usual table?" he asks.

“Yes, please.”

He nods, “You are lucky you know the owner,” he adds with a smirk and you roll your eyes.

“Thanks, Jinnie.”

You walk through the restaurant. The table you like the most is located in one of the corners, near the kitchen. It is kind of hidden but you can see the whole restaurant from there. You’ve spent hours and hours there sketching the people that come by.

Your eyes scan the menu as you wait for your sister's arrival. Jin adds new recipes to the menu every once in a while.

"Does this sit is taken?"

You raise your head to look at the newcomer and you do not expect what you see...

"Jungkook?"

For a split second, you think you might be hallucinating. But no. He is really there. It is the first time you see him in a year. He smiles sheepishly and you remember that there's a question you haven't answered yet…

"I'm waiting for my sister…"

And then, it clicks.

Do you, by any chance, have received any texts or calls today?

"You planned this with my sister," his smile widening is your confirmation. "But, you don't know her. How?"

"We have a mutual friend."

"Taehyung and Seokjin knew about this," you accuse.

Jungkook nods, "The guys helped me to plan this. So, can I sit?"

"Yeah, I guess," you reply. "Is my sister even in the city?"

"Yes. She is waiting for you with Anna at your place."

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you stay silent. You take the opportunity to look at him. He looks… different. His hair is longer. He is wearing a plain grey shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket that fits him so well. He gained weight. The sharpness of his face is gone. His lips look more full in the way they stretch into a smirk. There’s a spark shining on his eyes. He knows you are checking him out.

You clear your throat.

"So, why did you take so much trouble when you just could have called me yourself?"

Jungkook shrugs, "I thought you wouldn't have come if I was the one who contacted you."

Before you could reply, one of the waitresses approaches the table.

"Are you ready to order?"

Jungkook gazes at the menu, "I'll have the Special Noodles, please."

She nods and turns to you, "And you, ___? The usual?"

"Yes. Thank you, Eli," you reply with a smile.

"Right away," she says and walks to the kitchen.

Once she is gone, the heavy atmosphere around you returns.

"Did you broke your phone?" You finally ask him the question you were dying to since he appeared.

"I know. I'm so sorry" he takes your hand in his. It feels so good to feel his warmth again. "You don't know how much I wanted to call. Or even go to your place to see you in person. But I made a promise to myself: I wouldn't contact you until I was in peace with myself."

It is selfish to feel this way. You know it. He did the right thing, but a part of you resents him. He disappeared. For one year, you didn’t know anything about him. Now, he appears out of nowhere and expects you’d receive him with open arms.

“Jungkook, why am I here?"

He seems confused, "What do you mean? I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About us?"

"Is there really an 'us' to talk about?"

"What?"

You shift in your seat. “You left without saying goodbye. With no type of explanation.”

He shakes his head, “What do you mean? I left the letter. Did you not read it?”

You frown, more confused by the minute. “What letter?”

“The one that I hid in your sketchbook. Do you really don’t know what am I talking about?” You shrug. “Well, that explains a lot,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“So, what was in that letter?”

He smiles over his glass of water. “It explained why I left, why I did it, and what happened with Zoe.”

“Yeah, about that… What happened? Because all this time I thought you ran away with her.”

A smirk appeared on his lips. It is not the type you like. It is the smug one. It makes you want to smack him on his pretty face.

“We talked. We resolved things. We stayed as friends,” he replies nonchalantly.

“G-good,” you manage to say and his smile widens. “Where were you staying, anyway?”

“I stayed a while with Yoongi and little with Zoe and her boyfriend. He is really cool.”

“That bastard!” you yelled and sank in your seat when a few customers turned to look at you. “When I asked him if he knew where did you go, he lied.”

Jungkook smiles apologetically, “He promised not to tell you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you huff, a little annoyed at Yoongi. He is going to hear you out the next time you see him. “You could have texted me or something. Do you know how much time is one year? That means I spent 365 days wondering if I would ever see you again." Jungkook opens his mouth but you raise your hand, "Please, let me finish."

He nods.

"One year is enough to meet new people…" You finish what you wanted to say.

Jungkook's smile falters, eyes widening, "Ohhhh… Does that mean you met someone?"

"I had a couple of dates," you confess, watching carefully his reaction. "But the two of them went really wrong."

His face illuminates at your words, "Why?"

"Because they were not you, idiot!"

He starts to laugh at your outburst. Wow, you forgot how much you liked his smile. His eyes turn into beautiful crescendos and his nose scrunched. His laugh is contagious you start to laugh back.

"I'm really glad to hear that."

A comfortable silence falls between you two. At the same time, Eli arrives with the order.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans after his first bite. “They are better than the last ones I ate.”

“Well, Seokjin had a year to perfect the recipe,” you mock.

While you eat, you talk about random stuff: how the recent partnership with a museum went; the brand new collection you and Taehyung are designing from scratch. Stuff like that. It almost feels like time hasn’t passed at all.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” you say once you have ordered the desert.

He takes a sip of his water. “What question?”

“Why am I here?”

“Oh, I wanted to see you and talk to you,” he says, suddenly shy. “I know you didn’t read the letter I left for you. But I want to explain to you, in person, why I left…”

It doesn’t make sense. How can someone who looks as good as Jungkook does can be shy?

“Go on.”

“I know it was selfish to leave. But I needed to do it. I was not myself when we met. I was lost. Even when you helped me to raise my feet again, I was not entirely okay. I left because I didn’t want to be emotionally codependent of you. If we are together, is because we want to, not because we need each other to survive. The time I spent away helped me to rediscover myself. Now, I am more me than I have ever been. I hope you will give me another chance.”

His beautiful words make your heart flutter. He is looking at you with so much intensity and hopes that you feel bad for being cold with him for the past hour. You stay silent for a moment, though. You suppress the smile that tugs the corner of your lips. Maybe you enjoy a little bit much the way his expression turns in panic.

“Well,” you finally speak up. His shoulders tense in anticipation. “Taehyung and I have an important dinner next week. Some important designers are coming to see our collection. Taehyung is taking his girlfriend. So… Would you like to come with me? You know… As my date?”

The end. ♡

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfics #jungkook x reader #bts #story: love sewn #jvnghxope

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iotiamohd · 4 years ago

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@iotiamo follow for follow? <3

Schrödinger’s Leak

We’re extremely sorry to say: this is fake. We made it because we’re agents of chaos to prove that it was possible to do something like this in two days. It took a lot of work at the sacrifice of our sanity, but we did it, and filmed on a phone like the original leak was, it could pass off as real. (Look through this blog if you want to see the ugly truth of the HD version.)

The problem is...we were originally doing this to prove that the leak was real, because “no way someone would do this in two day, especially without getting paid”, and instead not only we realized it’s possible, but we’re left with more doubts than before. Keep on reading if you’re interested in what we (didn’t) find out, and what we did to put this together.

We could have posted this a bit earlier, but we didn’t want to distract from the #SomethingToSay campaign.

IO TI AMO

Guys. Guys, we wish we could explain the sheer amount of things Vittorio Guerrieri, Cas’ voice actor, has been in. This man is in every anime dub ever, it’s impressive—we knew finding that specific “Io ti amo” was a losing battle, but we still tried.

Oh, God, did we try. We went through English scripts of all the rom-coms he’s dubbed; compared that to the Italian subtitles of those same movies, looked for working links to stream the Italian dub and check if the “I love you”s we found were the right one....brain cells were lost. Progress was not made.

We settled on using the one in Marley & I (lmao), that Owen Wilson’s character says to the dog to his wife. It’s even better than the one in the leak, in our humble opinion, @ og leaker, suck our collective dicks.

Pictured here: Owen Wilson confessing his undying love for Dean Winchester (as he should).

ANCHE IO

The closest match we had is Dean's Anch'io, (me too).

Although it wasn't a Supernatural "exclusive" line, we decided to search within the original scripts and look for an Italian corrispondance. We found it.

2x20 [9.54] - What Is And What Should Never Be It not only was a perfect match in terms of sounds, but after analyzing the file with Audacity we had no doubt about it. Furthermore, if you overlap the OG leak's "me too" with the one we found, they seem to perfectly fit.

Listen to the cleaned and compared audios here, and stay tuned for our mixtape, it’s gonna be straight fire.

Here are the graphs. The “Anche io” from 2x20:

“Anche io” from the leak:

Obviously we didn’t expect them to look the same, considering the differences in audio quality, but they’re still very similar. It was listening to the audios side by side that convinced us.

...Is this proof that the leak is fake? Idk. Probably yes. But what if it’s a coincidence that they’re so similar? How different could the two graphs for two small words said by the same person possibly be, after all. And what about all the other lines that we couldn’t find a match for? You see now why we’re conflicted.

CASTIEL

The original idea was to go through every. single. time. Dean says “Castiel” in the Italian dub, hoping to find a perfect match for the one in the leak. We figured every other line could have been taken from the voice actors’ older works (both Castiel’s and Dean’s are very popular here in Italy, and their voices have appeared in...everything, basically)—but that “Castiel” had to come form Supernatural.

We didn’t find it. We went through a lot of the episodes with Castiel in them, the ones with more emotional scenes first, and found nothing...we ended up getting distracted by the search for Mi dispiace, Dean, when we realized that also had to come from Supernatural. We settled on using the first close match we thought of: the scene in 09x01 where Dean is praying in the hospital’s chapel.

This is not the “Castiel” used in the leak, so we can’t prove that it’s a recycled line stoled from an older episode of the Italian dub. For all we now, Stefano recorded it for 15x18.

“Castiel” from 09x01:

“Castiel” from the leak:

Does this prove anything, considering how bad the audio quality of the leak is? We wouldn’t get the same exact graph even if it was the same snippet of audio. (By the way, when we started this we thought that Dean had rarely said Castiel’s name like that in the dub. We’d forgotten than Italian!Dean never calls him Cas, the asshole.)

The same problem remains: did the leaker find some obscure anime episode where Guerrieri says Io ti amo and used it to dub Castiel, or is this all very real, and that’s why we couldn’t find it anywhere? We don’t know, we just don’t know.

MI DISPIACE, DEAN

Apart from the very wistful "Castiel..." right before Dean gets chucked on the ground (lol get rekt), the other line that came without a doubt from Supernatural is "Mi dispiace, Dean."

I'm sorry, Dean, a sentence that Cas doesn't say that often throughout the show: we checked the English scripts, and we found only three instances where it happens (we only have up until season 13 dubbed in Italian, so if he ever says it in the remaining two seasons, it certainly doesn't have an Italian version).

5x22 - Swan Song: Cas says it, and it's very obviously not the one in the leak. The tone is completely different. 6x22 - Meet the new boss: again, close but no cigar. 7x01 - Reading is fundamental: at first we thought it was the exact same one, and that's why this particular Mi dispiace, Dean is the one you can hear in our fake leak. After checking with Audacity, the one in the episode and the one in the og leak don't correspond. It's just the closest we could find.

So...? What does this mean? We don't know. It's very possible that Italian!Castiel does say Mi dispiace, Dean somewhere in another episode, straying away from the original English script, but without transcriptions of the Italian dub available online, we had no idea where to start.

It's also possible that the leak is real, and that's why we found no doubles for this line.

Also: we've seen people in various posts about the leak saying that the change from "Goodbye, Dean" to "I'm sorry, Dean" is suspicious. It's not uncommon to change lines if it means lipsinking them better, and considering what was happening in the scene, it's not out of place to have Cas apologize to Dean. It wouldn't sound weird to someone who has never watched the original episode.

But, there's another argument to make...Cas has never said goodbye, Dean in older episodes (as far as we could find), and the og leaker was forced to use the next best thing they could find in the Italian dub.

THAT MONITOR...THAT DAMNED MONITOR...

That monitor in the leak looked so sus at first. Is it normal for professional studios to use equipment older than some people on this hell site?

Apparently yes.

We've found a bunch of photos of voice actors in front of the screen they use at work, and they all look like that. Dusty.

These pictures also confirmed that the punctuation in the frame rate changes—sometimes it's all :, sometimes it's all ; (like in the case of the OG leak), sometimes it's mixed. Once again, we can't prove anything one way or another.

This is a pic from 2009 of Davide Chevalier, Sam's voice actor, and the framerate looks different from the one in the leak...then again, it's from 2009. What does it mean? What does it all mean?

FINAL CRIES FOR HELP

If you know more than us, please tell us:

Did we read the Audacity graphs correctly? Do they prove/disprove anything that we didn’t mention?

Does the framerate make any sense? Are we being bamboozled?

Do you have any insight on whether or not season 15 is already been dubbed? We know that season 14 will go on air in bundles of three episodes starting from the 12th of December, so it’s not crazy to think season 15 is already in the works.

Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it? We slept very few hours last night.

tl;dr: in conclusion, we CAN’T affirm with absolute certainty if the Italian leak is fake or not, since we have evidences leading both way. Sadly, the final word will be when the episode will actually air next year.

IRTF - Internet Research Italian Rogue Task Force

#destiel #supernatural #destielgate #italian leak #italian dub #supernatural 15x08 #spn 15x18 #jackles longcon

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balkanballad · 4 years ago

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Eurovision 2021 ranking

hello, hello and welcome to my eurovision 2021 ranking. the songs are ranked with numbers but I also put them into categories (from 💐 to 🥀) and added a short comment. so, if you are interested in my personal opinion about the songs, have fun:

💐:

Switzerland: I was rooting for him last year and it’s the one returner in my top that didn’t disappoint me that much. what a start, huh? I love the song, I love the feeling it gives me when I listen to it, the clip is very pretty too. did I like his last entry better? yes, but I will say it already here at the very top of this list: I liked last year’s choices in general a lot more. nevertheless, this is a beautiful entry! and it is my personal winner this year

Australia: I loved her last song. It was there for me when I needed it. Technicolour does not touch me in that way but it is fun!! it’s catchy to me and I really like Montaigne. I adore her style and how she sings. I am excitingly looking forward to this performance :)

France: beautiful song, amazing singer, the national final performance was wonderful. however, I listened to it so much that back in March I already needed a break form it. now as I am finishing this it’s April and I can slowly listen to it again. it’s me though, it’s not her. that’s really a me problem. she’s wonderful and I love the French touch to this

Albania: a ballad from the Balkans <3 hello, of course I like it and I love that they kept it in Albanian this year. I heard similar songs before, but I like the sound of it still.and overall it’s a song that gives me familiar vibes in a cozy way with a bit of drama

Russia: interesting!! I was relived to see that Little Big didn’t return because, as I explained in my ranking for last year, I was not feeling them. absolutely nothing about them, but I love her! I think it’s catchy, it’s something different and I like the message she supports. it took me a few times to fully decide how I feel about the song, but now it’s in my top for sure

Denmark: fun! a fun song in Danish. I really like the good mood it puts me in. I even see this in the context of the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things or something like that when they go to Europe to party a bit. I also really enjoy the old school vibe this has to it. I miss that vibe. I’m also a bit old school

Cyprus: I absolutely do not relate to anything said in this song but it’s catchy! it is a bit fuego and a bit replay but I liked those entries as well, so yeah fire. I have not heard a single live performance by her but I am not exactly sure that vocals will be the aspect that she will try to win votes with anyway. I am amused by the fact that apparently people were offended by this song when it clearly makes no sense whatsoever. it’s simply a bop, move on and dance a bit

🌺:

(8.) Greece: fun as well! a ‘dream team’ entry for sure. I say this a bit sarcastically, but they do well a lot of the times and I am lured in by a lot of their entries myself. Kontopoulos is a big name in the esc industry, it’s a fact. the song is a bit more mature than Superg!rl, which I also listened to more often that I thought I would. It still reminds me of a theme song for a superhero show for kids and I am a bit worried that the ‘dReAM TeAm’ is a bit too outdated for Stefania because I think she could have done something cooler than both of those songs

(9.) Sweden: it took me a few times listening to this song, but I like the song now. I don’t think it’s too special and “a million voices” reminds me of Polina immediately because those are her words for me, but this is a good song too. I like how it makes me feel empowered and like everything will be okay. thank you for that, Tusse, I need that

(10.) Israel: Eden deserved a better song. I like this song less than last year’s entry because I think it’s less interesting and I loved some instrumental parts from last year’s entry, but this is not bad either. I am rooting more for her than for the song, but I guess that’s this year’s motto for me. I also can’t say that I love the revamp because it made it sound even more generic for me

(11.) Belgium: I saw the promo pics for them and was very confused how different the singer looks this year, but it turns out that it’s not the same woman. I like this entry a lot better. I like her voice and I really like the vibe. It sounds a bit like it could play in the background of a classic American tv show when a character is going a bit through it and pouring a drink while it’s dark outside. I have the same problem that I mentioned already while talking about the French entry, but that’s still a me problem. I just need a break

(12.) Ireland: this entry is a lot less annoying to me than the song that she had last year. I like the lyrics and whole aesthetic of this one a lot more. it’s another one that I can’t listen to too often, but I still think it’s a very good choice imo

(13.) The Netherlands: Jeangu!! I think he for example will give a wonderful vocal performance. Growth felt way more personal to me, but that’s a repeating motive this year and also a me problem because obviously this is his song and he does it well

🌻:

(14.) San Marino: I’m still confused by this feature and I can’t really say that I’m ‘living’ for it, but I already made a post about how I don’t think she needed Flo Rida. minus the feature it’s a catchy party song, but it reminds me of one song that I simply can’t remember anymore. something that I heard from the Greek music industry, maybe even Eleni, if you know which one I mean, pls let me know

(15.) Estonia: just like last year: this song doesn’t make much sense and I don’t want to, but I still catch myself listening to it frequently... I am sorry, I can’t help it, but it puts me in a eurovision mood and yes, I am blaming Kontopoulos again. I am a weak person when it comes to his melodies

(16.) Ukraine: first I had it lower in my ranking, but I like SHUM better now and I like it a lot more now than last years entry. I really like the part when it gets faster, that’s really fun and makes me want to jump! jump! jump!

(17.) Spain: it’s a lot less repetitive than the last entry, but I would be lying if I said that I listen to this very often. it’s alright, not bad at all actually, but I just wasn’t in the mood for this (yet?)

(18.) Romania: this is for me still the same type of style as Bulgaria. European Billie Eilish type. last year I ranked her higher than Bulgaria as well, but they are pretty much the same to me. I can’t comment on whether I like her song less or more this year. it’s not bad either but I simply don’t think about it much

(19.) Bulgaria: I think I like this entry better than her last one. the message is cute, the melody too and yeah, but I don’t care about it too much

🌼:

(20.) Croatia: it’s a faster pop song without a real meaning. ground-breaking. the title makes me think of Ukraine 2014. which I like better, but we’ll see, maybe the performance will have something cool too. I will say though, I would have prefered the whole song to be in Croatian, it doesn’t make it much deeper, but I like that part the most

(21.) Malta: another faster pop song. I think she will give an amazing vocal performance and it will be cool and powerful, but the message and lyrics are a bit confusing to me. I am not the lyrics police, but I am confused by them a bit

(22.) Iceland: I think I like it better than last year’s song, but it’s still not LOVE that I feel for the song. I can listen to it though

(23.) Lithuania: it’s there. I am not a fan of them and it’s not a song I love too much, but I can listen to it

(24.) North Macedonia: sigh. I liked last year’s entry a lot and Vasil seems like someone who cares a lot about the contest, but I don’t feel this ballad. I think I know what they were going for and what it’s trying to be, dramatic and meaningful, but I don’t feel it that much. it’s okay? but it doesn’t do much for me

(25.) Czech Republic: this was a surprise because I think the overall quality of his entry got a lot better, this time though I have the problem that I do not like the lyrics. they don’t make me as uncomfortable as Germany last year but they are in that area of uhm, I don’t love the feeling this gives me

(26.) UK: hm :/ I can’t say that I’m a fan. this sounds like the type of song that the boring straight men in my area put in their tinder bio as their song, but it’s every third guy that says this is his song. those Calvin Harris remix type-ish songs and I am sooo bored. I swipe left because it’s no match, I delete tinder. breath was a lot more my thing and a lot more exciting and interesting

(27.) Poland: as soon as this stops, the exact same second, I forget everything about it. I don’t remember a single word, barely the title and singer and not the melody. what is this about? I can’t tell you. it’s not exactly bad, but it is so forgettable

(28.) Moldova: oh faster pop song? wow.. so.. original. I am starting to sound like those weird people that hate ballads. I don’t feel it and I don’t relate to it, but I also don’t hate it. the video though.. no thanks.

(29.) Italy: as so often: I see a lot of Italy fans on here and I can’t relate. it’s not for me, but it’s there and I can listen to it when I can’t reach the skip button for some reason

(30.) Austria: hm. Austria and Slovenia are going there. this is the better Amen song for me, but I don’t love it. it’s better than what Ana is trying to sell even though it’s super repetitive

🥀:

(31.) Serbia: I can’t tell you if it’s worse than last year but it’s less catchy. the lyrics are still bad. actually, maybe I am the lyrics police

(32.) Finland: this not my genre and I don’t really listen to it

(33.) Slovenia: nop. not for me in any way. I already said last year that I don’t like her voice and it didn’t change but now I also don’t love the message or weird vibe of this entry. I had it even lower, but I can’t push it up more. this is as high as I can rank it

(34.) Norway: I don’t like it. I don’t like the lyrics or melody or performance that was in the nf actually. I have a hard time understanding the concept even with the explanation it makes no sense to me

(35.) Portugal: I don’t like it. a lot of the parts of the melody are really not for me and borderline annoying, but definitely boring

(36.) Georgia: it’s boring. the last entry was at least something interesting, but this one is boring, which makes me a bit sad because his voice sounds and he seems like the guy that could make something cooler. I know I am not the person that can judge rock because I don’t listen to it too much, but I feel like he could have done something cooler and ‘rock’ it more

(37.) Latvia: again: I can’t even say if it’s worse or better than last year. maybe a bit better actually but, just as last time, I can’t listen to this. it annoys me and gives me a bit of a headache. I don’t think her style and voice is for me

(38.) Germany: I wouldn’t necessarily call it hate that I feel when I have to listen to this, even though that’s a funny play with the words of this title, but I definitely feel very annoyed by this song, so I simply don’t listen to it

(39.) Azerbaijan: the song sounds just like the last one, which I had placed on the 14. place in my own 2020 ranking, however, I can’t bring myself to support someone who posts war propaganda on their socials. it’s eurovision and about the songs, I know, but this is my blog and my ranking. so it’s a no for me this time and my last place in this ranking

#j. talks #eurovision #tell me anything if you want <3

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