#WATCH ME UNBOX SEVENTEEN

[galaxy--supernova-scans]

okay y'all here's the thing (this became a rant, kinda)

I don't...like the physical seventeenth heaven albums. the teasers were so cute and then watching the unboxing videos i'm like "okay yeah but two out of these three versions feature some very washed out photos" and don't get me wrong the carat version is cute but I dislike it for the same reason I disliked the FML carat albums. which i didn't post about but I am a multi-stan, okay, and I have been one since 2011. I have been collecting for 12 years, I don't have a lot of room for albums that have a lot of empty space in them.

as in, you get a teeny tiny book to put your photocards in and then you have a box of packaging left over. that's why I liked the style for face the sun and attaca's carat versions, it was simple and sleek and held the cards and the cd in a way that fit nicely on my shelf. I don't like when companies do one style for 2 releases and lull you into a false sense of "oh okay, this is how they're going to package their future releases" and then they go PSYCH WE CHANGED IT ON YOU.

and I mean, the rain coat concept is cute but if I'm being honest I'd rather have Vernon's FML carat album.

speaking of FML, really speaking of a lot of Seventeens recent past releases, it's been a hot minute since I bought an album because here's the thing, I also don't like albums that have a lot of frankly useless inclusions that I really don't care about collecting! Or are like "oh yeah each member gets 4 photocards in each of the 3 different versions" it honestly makes me seethe, the blatant capitalism of the bias phenomenon which I do fall for, Vernon is my bias and I would love to collect all his PCs but many times I find it hard to trade for his inclusions. I still have none of his Your Choice inclusions.

So long story short, I'm in a Seventeen mood but i don't wanna buy the new albums so I may just scan some old ones.

[snallavanta]

MY BROTHER WATCHED MY VIDEO ABOUT ME UNBOXING THE SEVENTEEN ALBUM IM CRYING SOMEONE SAVE ME FROM EMBARRASSMENT

[s-brant]

Baby Names

(gif: @mishellejones) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: Y/N gets frustrated while putting the crib for her and JJ’s baby together and finds herself missing her dead brother more than ever.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Fluff and minor angst.

A/N: Asks and ye shall receive, here’s a little blurb about what happens after Tokens! You don’t really have to read the other parts to enjoy this fic if you don’t want to, but I do recommend it for some backstory. This was slightly inspired by this fic by @cognacdelights, so go give her stuff a read! Let me know if you liked this. Have fun!

Y/N Routledge thought she got over her brother's death long ago.

Though you never truly "get over" losing a loved one, though there will always be a small part of you, however small, that aches for their presence again, she thought she moved past the tragedy to the best of her ability...until last week.

To say that the pregnancy was a surprise would be the understatement of the century. She and JJ were both on the same page about children when their relationship began, and that page was that neither of them wanted them yet. Sure, the idea of it in the future stirred their hearts with fond emotion, but considering that they had yet to graduate high school and barely scraped by on their own, they weren't jumping headfirst into that aspect of adulthood.

They were meticulous about safe sex. They couldn't afford another mouth to feed, she wasn't sure she could handle the emotional trauma of having an abortion, and, underneath it all, he had some reservations about being a father. It wasn't that he didn't envision a future with kids in their relationship, he did, but the topic of fatherhood always took him down a dark path within his mind.

So, she went on birth control once they started dating and they went along with no scares for the next six years as they graduated and started figuring out what the next step for their lives was going to be.

Y/N could get lost thinking about it, honestly, but she tries not to get too swept up in the minor mistake that led to this.

"You, my friend, need to stop moving around in there," she whispers down at her protruding belly with a hand cradling the heavy weight of it, "I'm trying to get your crib set up without JJ yelling at me for not asking for help, and if you don't stop kicking me, I'm not gonna get anything done."

She's sprawled out on the floor in the living room of the Chateau with her legs stretched comfortably in each direction while she hunches over to read the directions of the Ikea furniture. The sugarcoated description makes her want to hunt down the company CEO for sport, because for how "simple and easy!" the construction of it claims to be, she is at her wits end.

The last thing she needed after having her grief over John B's death reignited by their decision to name their kid after him last week was to stress herself out over something as stupid as this, but she won't quit. With how much JJ has been coddling her the further into the pregnancy she gets, she wanted to prove that she could do something for herself.

Whenever she brings in the groceries from the car and goes to lift the bag of dog kibble out of the trunk, he rushes up behind her back and scoops it out of the trunk before she dares to touch it. It always ends with her hollering after him that it's under twenty pounds, the upwards limit of the weight she's allowed to carry according to her doctor, but he refuses to hear any of it.

Inside of her, she feels a sharp sensation of something hitting her right in the ribs in response to her comment, and she groans in frustration. It's as if he did it because he knows she wants it to stop, the feisty little fucker.

"You're definitely your daddy's son, aren't you? It's already enough having one of him, the last thing I need is a JJ clone."

Their three-year-old Rottweiler rescue huffs a sigh from where he lays, frog-legging it, on the floor next to the unboxed crib pieces she can't put together to save her life. His drooping jowls produce a puddle of slobber on the her favorite carpet that is past the point of saving from his constant wear and tear. After a year of having him, she decided to stop trying to prevent him from ruining it. There’s no point.

She smiles at him as she leans forward to read through the directions for the billionth time, saying, "I actually think he'll be a lot like his uncle, but that's just me. If he isn't, I'll feel a little stupid over the name situation."

John Booker Routledge-Maybank.

Hell of a name if you ask her yourself, but for every internal struggle it reopened inside of her, she couldn't help but love it as soon as JJ casually proposed the idea on his way out of the door for work one morning.

Going on without John B has been a learning experience in every aspect. Any time she wanted to turn to him for advice or tell him something about the recent events in her life, she had to walk out back to their dying magnolia tree and sit under the shade to talk to the wind. Then, once the tree finally died and they were forced to cut it down, she took to sitting on its stump and doing it there.

It got easier as time went on, but she can't keep herself from wondering what it'd be like if he didn't die ever since she saw the results on the pregnancy test six months ago. Whenever she does something like going to her OBGYN appointments or, case in point, setting up the crib, she pictures him there.

She can see him here now, petting Bowie's shiny coat until he falls asleep with his head propped onto John B's outstretched legs. He'd be twenty-three years old by now with his life barely starting to blossom to its full potential, yet here they are. Correction, here she is, and he's off somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, already decomposed to the extent that not even his bones can be salvaged anymore.

Her chest sinks in another sigh, and she flips through page after page of the instructions with increasing aggression.

"This crib is so fucking—"

"What are you doing?"

The sound of her yelping in surprise at JJ's voice coming from the door is enough to make him laugh to himself, though his amusement is buried partway by what he's walking in on. He specifically asked her to wait for him to put the crib together, knowing damn well it wouldn't be the easy task she thought it was, but he should've known she'd do it anyway.

She looks over her shoulder with a mixture of guilt and frustration painting her features as she throws her hands up in the air and gestures vaguely to the unassembled crib. Her eyes are shining with the rapid onset of hormone-induced tears.

"I can't put this crib together 'cause the instructions aren't right, all the pieces are labeled wrong, your son won't stop kicking me, and I miss my brother so much right now," she spews the words with no pauses to breathe until the very end, when she stops short to suck down a breath as soon as she gets the last part out.

It leaves JJ standing at the entrance to the house with this stunned expression.

There's no amusement to be found anymore. Once she turned and flashed those wide, teary eyes that never fail to spark an ache in his heart at him, his tired smile vanished and his feet started moving before he could say anything to her.

The floorboards creak beneath his half-laced boots on his way across the room to her. It prompts Bowie to pop his head up from around the side of the coffee table to catch a peek of whoever it is that's approaching his emotionally distraught owner. Upon seeing JJ's familiar face, the dog relaxes back into his lounging position atop the carpet and tracks JJ’s movements until he's seated next to her.

"This is about John B?" he asks.

Her cheeks are flushed in embarrassment at her sudden outburst, and she can't bear to meet his gaze right now. Despite him being her closest friend and husband, she feels as small and vulnerable as she did six years ago when she first learned of her brother's death from Shoupe. Time might as well be shaped in the form of a never-ending circle for them, directing them back to their seventeen-year-old state of mind every time things turn sour.

Y/N finally lifts her hanging head to look over at him after another few seconds and thinks she might crumble at the look on his face. He hates watching her cry.

"I guess," she says through a sniffle, "It's about the crib too, but I've been thinking about it a lot more since we picked the name. Our baby’s gonna grow up never knowing who his uncle was..."

With that, JJ takes it as his cue to pull her closer.

He scoots up behind her and lets his chin rest on the curve bridging her neck and shoulder together as he twines his arms around her body. It's a closeness that's as natural as breathing for him, so natural that he can hardly remember the years before it became normal for them to take part in little moments of intimacy like this. The warmth of their bodies cohabitates in the blurred line distinguishing where she ends and he begins, and he feels her relax, sagging in his embrace in appreciation of his miraculous ability to make her feel better no matter how worked up she is.

One of his hands rests on the swell of her bump in an absentminded effort to calm him too. Even though he isn't consciously thinking of it, he knows that her distress must upset the baby too. The contact steadies her, keeps her grounded to the moment rather than allowing her to slip away into the current of her negative thoughts, and she clings to every word he has to say.

He says, "You and I both know that isn’t true. He's gonna grow up seeing all the pictures you have of John B and ask about him all the time. And we'll tell him all the stories"—there's a pause of contemplation as he recalls a few particularly non-PG memories of his best friend—"Well, maybe not all of them, but you know what I mean."

This draws a soft bout of laughter from deep within her chest that he feels with how her body shakes ever so slightly with it. It seems so wrong to laugh with tears in her eyes but she can't help it. Her emotions have been scattered in every direction since the pregnancy began, and it has only gotten worse the further along she gets.

"If you ever tell him about the kief incident, I'm never giving you a bl—"

His free hand smushes over her mouth before she can say the rest.

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence.”

It's said so frantically, it makes her erupt in laughter hard enough to tickle her abdomen muscles with the aching sensation of it. The vibration of it under his palm makes him drop his hand a second later with the need to hear the beautiful sound. After seeing her cry, it's a welcome shift in mood, even if it's at his expense.

Her head is thrown back on his shoulder, mouth parted into a smile with the gleeful giggling filling the room. His stomach churns with butterflies at the sight of her. Even after all these years, he has the same reaction to her laughter every time. It makes him smile to himself and watch her in quiet reverence. It makes him ache with the same inklings of longing he felt for the first time when he was much younger.

Her laughter begins to die down by the time she can draw enough breath in to murmur a soft, "Sorry, angel," to him and reach down to hold the hand he rests on her belly as consolation for her joke.

They remain this way for another few minutes, tangled up in each other's arms on the floor of the living room with Bowie snoring a few feet away, before he manages to convince her to let him be the one to set up the crib instead. It takes a good five minutes of playful back and forth before she concedes under the condition that he'll let her paint the nursery by herself when the time comes, and that's all it takes for her to abandon the task in favor of finding something to snack on in the fridge.

In her defense, the crib is actually quite difficult to put together.

JJ doesn't consider himself an expert handyman by any means, at least not with anything outside of his area of expertise as an electrician, but he likes to think he knows enough to put together a "no assembly required" Ikea crib without wanting to bang his face against the wall.

In the end, it gets finished by the two of them in the middle of the night over a box of cold leftover pizza from the previous day. It takes them two hours of struggling before they get it fully assembled and placed where they want it in the room that'll soon belong to their son.

He pretends not to notice her sneaking back in to tie John B's old bandana around the wooden railing before they go to bed.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

[uservernon]

one year since i became a carat | 200702

happy one year anniversary of me finally watching a music video from a group that ellie recommended me when i wanted to expand my kpop taste and decided to watch left and right by seventeen (who ellie was freaking out over bc it was their latest comeback) and fell in love with vernon who was in the literal first second of the music video and slipped into the diamond life where all i watched and listened to was seventeen to a point where 91 songs from my top 100 most listened songs in 2020 were seventeen songs. 

okay it’s been such an amazing year and i’m so happy to have these 13 boys in my life. and as much as i regret not stanning any time sooner, seventeen has truly been one of the most postive things that have happened to me during the pandemic. their music and the postitive messages that send to fans truly made an impact on me. i remember when i spent hours watching their content to learn their names, only for me to forget wonwoo (sorry kail). i remember how the dance mafia episode with dingo was the first variety show content i watched. i remember when i bought only one version heng:gære, but bought the rest bc i loved the endorphin rush i got unboxing the album. i remember watching the five year anniversary video, despite not memorizing all the members at this point, and being thoroughly confused. i remember watching a 30 minute compilation of svt laughing just to feel something. i remember ellie sending me a link so i can watch cabbage land (not carat land). i remember the first day of fall classes when the 24h mv dropped and i had a mental breakdown over croptop wonwoo. i remember my excitement for home;run since it was my first comeback as a carat. i remember wishing for a maknae line song and then not only getting that, but also all the age line songs (do re mi soty). i remember when vernon posted THAT 201023 twitter selfie absolutely unprovoked and i cried over the ft to my friends (who were clowning me.... as they should). i remember ringing in 2021 listening to kidult (also soty). i remember pulling vernon for the first time and i screamed in my apartment and then told everyone i knew. i remember the rough nights i spent listening to svt because they are in fact my comfort group. and i remember all the friends, old and new, that have blossomed over the past year. 

to ellie ( @jadethirwall ) who is my kpop wife and was the one who introduced me to svt. who doesn’t mind when i send her my gifs and creations. who was the first person i traded pcs with. who sometimes regrets getting me into kpop because the amount of money i spend. who sends me vernon posts, even though i probably already reblogged it. who introduced to me to so many other groups i love. who i have known for years (since our lunar chronicles days). 

to kaili ( @semicolonshua ) who, at first, clowned vernon and i, but later asked me to name all the members of bts for me to push her over to svt. who sat through a 50 slide presentation on svt to learn all their names and more about (who i also quizzed). who stays up with me watching going seventeen and other svt content on zoom. who gave me such a *chefs kiss* bday present. who has a vernon pc curse that i am extremely jealous of. 

to mo ( @httpsmingyu ) who became a carat after watching the same presentation as kaili (because she is a supportive gf) and going seventeen episodes. who i sometimes regret getting her into kpop because she has an even worse album buying addiction than i do. who just mailed me a bunch of her vernon pulls because of said addiction and even gave me beret!vernon from an ode. who gave me a presentation on loona so i could learn their names. 

to ledia ( @merci-cherie ) who is not into kpop, but still lets me freakout of svt all the time. who i should videos with over zoom because i had no one else to show them to. who (reluctantly) let’s me play kpop in my car. who says vernon is her bias, even though she is not allowed to (kidding). 

to oona ( @vernons) who is my fellow dolly and one of the first svt mutuals i made. who sends me fanart she makes of vernon and even made me one for my birthday. who i go to whenever i want to rant/cry/scream/thirst over vernon. who sent me a gifset of vernon’s hands from the harper bazaar photoshoot and i flipped. 

to alicia ( @myungho ) who is a talented content creator and is extremely kind. who i can go to to rant about junsol. who let me create the gif and header for her mobile theme. who checked up on me to see if i was okay when vernon’s weverse interview photos came out because she knew i wasn’t (i really wasn’t). 

and to all my mutuals ( @soonhoonsol @lucasmark @haniehae @cutiejoshi @softhwasimp @squishy-woozi @sangyus @kyeomblr @kabira @haechanblr @art-hao @kwonthefire @sexykwan @scoupsy @rq-s @stepmom @pastelette @scoups @seungkwns @wonhaoz @xuseokgyu @miinttae @seokgyus @chanswu @wooziscollarbones @s0ftbb @chocosvt @btackt @svtsloki @fallin-flower @glowingsvt @sgys @shuaway @kyeomshine @choicheol @smallkore @secndlife @seohoshi @chweghyun @chilligyu @minki-s @heartgyus @coupsnim @exysgirl @thefinalgirlz ) for everything! even if we haven’t talked in a while or only interact by reblogging and liking each others posts, i really appreciate all of y’all. this past year has meant to me and i’m so happy that i get to be apart of such a beautiful community. yall make this hell app and little bit more tolerable to be on. and if we become less active and move on with our lives, you and the lovable idiots we call svt have made such an important impact in my life. i hope for many more years of chaos, 3am weverse posts, gose, strange tiktok videos from svt’s account, boochan’s enemies to lovers plot line, vernon standing as still as possible at all times, jeonghan being a libra, drunk ttt’s, and wonderful music. horanghae <3

[tiffdawg]

Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Seventeen

Gif: @javier-pena��

curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one’s life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.4k

Rated: E  | Warnings: NSFW – semi-explicit sexual content, l*ve m*king. Feelings. Domesticity. 18+ only.

Chapter Summary: In this chapter, Javier returns to Los Angeles to spend New Year's Eve with you. 

A/N: My plan to have this chapter our at the start of the month didn't pan out, but here is the NYE chapter. Finally! I hope that you all enjoy it and are having a wonderful start to 2021. Thank you, as always, for reading and supporting this story. Sending lots of love!

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Seventeen

As you stood outside gate C14, you tightened your grip on Sunny’s leash. With a wagging tail and shining eyes, she pulled in every direction, determined to greet every passing traveler.

“Hey,” you whispered, “I know you’re excited but be good before they kick us both out.” You weren’t exactly sure if she was supposed to be there but sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. She made a displeased whining noise as she sat down next to you. “Don’t you want to see Javi?” Her ears perked up at the familiar name. “I thought so.”

You glanced back at the gate through the crowd of people. There was still no sign of any disembarking passengers. You took a deep breath and tamped down your own excitement, deciding to crouch down next to Sunny and pet her rather than stare at the empty gate. Your affectionate touch calmed the both of you.

So when she yipped again, you knew exactly why.

Glancing up, you found Javier scanning the crowd and his eyes were drawn to Sunny’s bark. A grin broke out on his face that certainly matched yours.

The two of you met somewhere in the middle. You don’t even remember making the conscious decision to move toward him. It was just instinctual. Like the way you threw your arms around Javier’s neck and his wound around your waist as your lips met in one long deep kiss that left you weak in the knees. You leaned into him, knowing he’d keep you steady, and savored the way he hummed in pleasure against your lips.

“Hi,” Javier breathed as he rested his forehead against yours. You traced the curve of his smile with the pad of your thumb as you cupped his cheek. It was one of those perfect ones that crinkled the corners of his eyes and left him looking years younger. And so damn happy.

“Hi,” you echoed, unsure if you could find another word in that moment. But maybe you didn’t need to say anything else. It was enough just to feel his arms around you again.

“I missed this,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Javi.” Your eyes fell as you took him in. Long-sleeved plaid shirt tucked into his well-fitting dark wash jeans and paired with his signature boots. You ran your hands over the soft material covering his chest. “You didn’t have to come back,” you whispered.

“I wanted to.”

“What about your dad?”

“He has plenty of family to spend the night with. He was fine with me leaving early.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “When he found out you were spending New Year’s Eve alone, he smacked me upside the head and told me to get on the next plane to LA.” You made a surprised noise that quickly turned into giggles. “Don’t laugh at that. That’s not funny,” he said with a smile of his own.

You laced your fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand, trying to hide your grin. “It is, actually.” Your smile fell. “Still, you didn’t have to come back just for me.”

“Yes, I did. I wouldn’t have been happy knowing you were alone. I’m right where I want to be.” His grin widened and you felt a quiet laugh in his chest. “I don’t think you were the only one who missed me.” You followed his eyes to find Sunny, tongue out and tail wagging, with two paws on Javier’s hip as she vied for his attention. He let go of you only to kneel down to greet her. “Si, si, te extrañé,” he shushed as he tried to calm the excited dog. Your heart soared as he planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Should we stop by baggage claim?” you asked.

“Nope.” He stood and swung a worn leather duffle over his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

You tried not to read much into his turn of phrase as he slung an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the busy terminal. “So,” you decided to prod as you waited at the crosswalk leading to the parking garage, “you told your dad about me?”

“Well, he figured it out.” He continued only at your confused expression. “He said I was happy.”

You kissed him. “I’m happy too,” you said, slipping a hand in his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his denim jeans. That earned you a wolfish grin that brought out that lone dimple just for you.

… . …

“It looks like 1985 in here,” you commented as soon as Javier could even set his duffle and your overpacked tote on the kitchen counter and flick on the lights. “Well, at least the parts you’ve unboxed.”

“Didn’t want to get too settled.” You peered over your shoulder at him with a bit of a scowl. All he could offer in response was a shrug as he slid your coat off your shoulders and hung it next to his. “I didn’t know if I would last the first week of classes let alone the first month.”

“You absolutely did. You survived the whole fall quarter.”

“Only because of you.”

Two fingers gripped his chin and turned his face toward yours. Your eyes locked onto his. “You’ve got to start giving yourself some credit, Javier. You’re a damn good professor. Whether you like it or not.”

“Wouldn’t you rather inspect what I have decorated?” he asked, placing two hands on your hips and spinning you around. “I know you’re dying to.”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a light laugh. With a firm hand on the small of your back as he pushed you further into the apartment. “Bedroom and bathroom are that way,” he said, pointing down the dark hall.

You gestured to the closed door on the opposite side of the living room. “What’s that room?”

“Empty spare bedroom.”

“God, I hate you. You have a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment in Brentwood, and you don’t even appreciate it. An empty room, boxes still unopened. Why don’t we ever come here? Your place is so much better than mine.”

“It’s fucking depressing,” he scoffed.

“I could help you make it feel like home.” You meant that innocently. He could hear it in your tone. You were probably only referring to adding a few throw pillows or candles or something like that, but already just having you there felt different. He’d thought he was going back home to Texas, but the truth was he felt more at home now just by being with you. “Yeah, I think you could.” You might’ve responded, but something caught your attention.

Almost reverently, you picked up a framed photograph off the lone bookshelf in his living room. “Your mother?” you asked quietly. He didn’t have to look at the photo to know which one you were drawn to.

“Yes,” he answered as he moved to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you back against his chest so he could peer down at the black and white photo in your hands. He was maybe five. Just a gangly boy with limbs too long for his own good and a cast on one arm from when he’d fallen off his new bike. That younger version of him sat his mother’s lap in front of a birthday cake lit with thirty-some odd candles. Much like the way he held you in that moment, his father stood behind the pair with his arms around his wife. She wore a dazzling smile that his aunts swore he inherited from her. If he remembered correctly, his father was behind the camera, muttering something that made them all laugh at the time.

“She was beautiful,” you commented. Lost for words, Javier pressed a kiss to your temple. But the mood clearly shifted. “And you were adorable.” Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at him. “What do you think happened?”

Javier grinned at your dig. “She would’ve liked you.”

You reached for the only other framed photograph. A more recent shot of Javier and an equally mustachioed blond man sitting together at an open-air bar, both looking unusually relaxed and happy with a beer in one and their arms around each other’s shoulders. One of the rare moments like that in Colombia. “This must be Steve,” you observed.

“His wife sent me that as a housewarming gift.”

“That’s so nice of her. You need something to cheer this place up.” Still clutching the photo, you turned in his arms. “Do you– I don’t know if I’ll ever get to meet them, but do you think they would like me?”

He almost laughed at your question. It was genuine on your part but so absurdly unnecessary. “Mi compañera,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to yours, “they already do. They were surprised though.”

“Do I want to know why?” you smirked. He had a feeling you already had some inclination as to why that might’ve surprised his closest friends.

“No,” Javier laughed. He watched you as you smiled at the photo, tracing a fingertip along the image of him. A strange feeling gripped his chest. It was as if you were trying to know that version of him. “You never talk about it. I know you don’t like when others ask you about your time in Colombia, but you never even mention anything that happened down there to me.”

“You don’t want to know about any of that.”

“Why not?”

Because you won’t like me, his traitorous brain supplied. He let you go and joined Sunny on the couch. “Want me to put on the Times Square thing?” he asked instead.

“Yeah sure. I don’t mind either way,” you responded lightly. He cringed inwardly at how habituated you were to him deflecting your questions. Shaking his head at himself, he dug the remote out from between two of the leather couch cushions and switched on the television despite having no intention to watch.

A moment later you joined him on the couch, dropping down next to him unceremoniously as you draped an arm around him. “Don’t mope,” you compelled with a kiss on his cheek. He turned to you with a raised brow. “And don’t look at me like that.”

Javier held your gaze for a long time, entranced by the soft look in your eyes and the way your fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. That seemed to bring him back to the present moment. “How does pizza sound?” he asked instead of a reply.

As expected, you smiled and nodded happily.

… . …

Much like your own at home, Javier’s kitchen table was covered with stacks of books, papers, and folders. Rather than clearing it off, the two of you sat on the floor around his coffee table eating pizza slices straight from the box. With the television muted in the background, you talked quietly, mostly recounting the little things that had happened while you were apart. You asked him more questions about his family, and he seemed keen to answer. You’d learned to savor every bit of himself that he elected to share with you.

After dinner, you wandered over to the unsurprisingly well-stocked bar cart, fingers dancing over the crystal glasses and bottles of whiskey and tequila as you contemplated pouring a couple of drinks. Until you noticed something amongst the mess on his kitchen table.

You picked up a book with dozens of sticky notes peeking out of it and flipped through the pages.

Talk about this in lecture.

Assign this chapter next quarter.

Fuck. She’s brilliant.

The notes went on for pages and pages. When you finally lifted your head, finding him across the room through watery eyes, Javier looked like a boy caught red handed. His wide brown eyes locked on to you as he gauged your reaction. “You’re reading my book?” you asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded quietly. “I finished it. It’s amazing.”

“Ja– Javi.” You attempted to speak but his name was just a broken sob.

He was on his feet in an instant. With a hand on either arm, he attempted to soothe you. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” you insisted as you roughly wiped at your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Honey,” he chided as he pulled your hand away and replaced it with his own, cupping your cheek and wiping your errant tears with his thumb. “Why does that upset you?”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re crying.” He would think that. He’d never seen you cry before. You’d cried from laughing at something he’d said on more than one occasion. There were a few tears once when you were frustrated. But nothing like this.

“That– that doesn’t mean I’m upset. It’s just– That’s–” you tried to collect yourself as you fisted the front of his shirt with one hand and pulled him closer. You took a deep breath and met his gaze. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

The scrunched up look on his face was almost comical, and you would’ve laughed any other time. “That is?” he asked, dumbfounded. Before he could say anything else, you slotted your mouth with his, kissing him with everything you had. “Of course I read your book,” he assured you, kissing you over and over again. Your body practically melted against his. “You’re fucking amazing, mi compañera” His hands moved to your face, wiping away the tears. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re... you’re crying again. What’s wrong?”

“I think I–” You stopped yourself. Or rather the words threatened to choke you, so you swallowed them down and hid them away. Instead, you caressed his face as you looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “I need you.”

Javier hesitated, watching you for a moment longer, eyes smoldering as they bored into your soul, before his mouth met yours with renewed determination.

You didn’t even bother looking around Javier’s bedroom as the two of you burst through the door. The two of you were a mess of limbs desperately trying to strip the other of their clothes. He walked you back toward the bed until your calves hit the frame.

“Why are you still holding this?” he asked, prying the book out of your hand and tossing it on his nightstand. He lifted your thick knit sweater off your body and over your head with ease and his hands quickly found the button of your black denim jeans while you worked on his shirt buttons.

As soon as your clothes had fallen aside, he laid you back in his bed, letting you rest against the pillows as he eagerly kissed a frenzied path down your body.

“Javi, wait.” He froze above you with concern in his eyes “Please be gentle with me,” you asked softly.

The implication was clear. And it weighed heavily between you.

Javier nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and you relinquished yourself to him. He changed course, and his lips found yours once more. While he kissed you, his fingers gently prodded you, stretching you out and readying your body for him. You whimpered against hip lips, wanting more than anything to feel him inside you.

“Shh, baby,” he shushed you huskily, intertwining your fingers in a tender gesture, “I’ve got you now.” You spread your legs wider, aching for him. Only him. And mercifully, he lined himself at your entrance, dripping with your desire, and slowly thrust forward, filling you to the hilt and stealing the air from your lungs.

As he moved inside you, every kiss, every touch seared your skin with invisible brands that would mark you forever as belonging to Javier. And you let him.

Neither of you said much of anything, preferring to simply breath each other in. You let the moans and mewls falling from your lips fill the room as your bodies rejoined and relearned each other. Hand in hand and warm skin on warm skin.

Until a wave of euphoria pulled you asunder and you came hard and shaking beneath him.

“You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” You only heard his murmurs of praise as you broke the surface and came up for air. He kissed away the teardrops streaking your cheeks. You tried weakly to apologize for crying again. “It’s okay,” he assured you, “I feel it too.”

You gaped at him as you watched him move above you, still buried deep inside you, chest heaving and some unspoken emotion drowning his eyes. You wanted him to feel everything that you did in that moment. Wanted to make him to feel the same sticky sweet pleasure

With little resistance, you pushed Javier onto his back and straddled his hips. He looked divine beneath you. His hands reverently caressed your back as you settled on top of him before snaking around your body to hold you tightly against him. You pressed your forehead to his as you rolled your hips, sliding up and down his cock and coating him with your creamy pussy.

Only when his chest hallowed with a broken, desperate groan did you finally take pity and sink down on him. You caught his sharp exhale with your lips. You focused on kissing him, pouring all your affection into him, and he slowly rocked up into you. It was unrushed and unhurried, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. Maybe you did.

“I need you to cum with me. Right now.” His fingers found your clit, coaxing a second climax from you.

“Let go for me,” you whispered against his ear.

Javier shattered beautifully under your touch.

… . …

Javier pulled back the bedsheets for you as you slipped back into bed next to him after spending way too long in a steaming hot shower together. “Did you bring these for me?” he asked, fingering the fabric of your satin sleep shorts with a lopsided grin. Dozens of little embroidered dogs dotted the fabric.

“Yes,” you chirped. “They always seem to make you smile.”

He shook his head at you. “No, honey, you make me smile.”

When he said things like that, he took the breath right out of your lungs. The rest of the world faded away and nothing else mattered. It was only the two. It was then that you noticed the time on the clock behind him. Time hadn’t stopped after all. In fact, it was 12:01 on the dot.

“Happy New Year, Javi,” you said with a smile. “I think this is going to be a really good year.”

“I do too,” he agreed. He cupped your cheek and guided your lips to his for a midnight kiss. “Happy New Year, baby. Now c’mere.”

You laughed as Sunny responded to his command. She seemed to appear from nowhere only to hop up on the bed and lay half on top of him with her head on his chest. “Yeah, you too,” he smiled, scratching behind her ears. You indulged for a moment, hoping you could commit the scene to memory. But Javier looked like he was on the verge of sleep, so you switched off the small lamp and happily curled up next to him. He draped an arm across your waist as you looked up at him. “I fucking missed my girls,” he mumbled before drifting off into a dream. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you watched him in the faint moonlight.

You weren’t sure if it was the holiday season or that magical stroke of midnight, but as you gazed up at him, you realized you didn’t just want Javier to be your yesterday, today or tomorrow. You wanted him to be your whole future. You wanted to spend your whole life with him because…

Your heart belonged to Javier Peña. You loved him. Truly, deeply loved him.

That thought didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would.

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

... . ...

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[lumosinlove]

Coast To Coast

part viii

Sometimes Leo put on one of Finn’s old Harvard sweatshirts and looked in the mirror. And wondered. He tried to picture their old frat house and having a room there. He’d only seen pictures, but it looked nice. It had a big kitchen and back yard. Would he have a roommate? What would he have studied? English? Maybe he and Finn would have become close like that in the same way that they had become close now. Reading together. Maybe they would have studied together. Would he have gotten a ride to practice in Finn’s car like Logan had? How much older were they in the fantasy? Would he lose them after just one year? Would he lose one and then the other? Or could he be their age, and they could all go together. But then, if they were trying for the NHL, they’d get split up without a doubt.

So, Leo put on the maroon sweatshirt—not Lions maroon, but close—and thought. Would he watch them fall in love like he thought he had watched them in the first months of the season? All of them meeting at once, it could be too complicated, and maybe they would chose each other anyway—

Finn talked about it more than Logan ever did. Logan was getting better but Leo could practically see the guilt well up at certain things. Both of them seemed, overall, fond of their days at Harvard. And yet, sometimes they clutched each other so closely that Leo thought they weren’t sure any of this was real. Leo knew how they felt on that part. He couldn’t believe his luck. The NHL. The Gryffindor Lions. Going to the playoffs his rookie season. And Logan and Finn.

It wasn’t that they didn’t hold Leo just as close, but Leo would be lying if he said it wasn’t with a different grip. Finn and Logan had lost each other and lost each other. Leo had only just been found.

Leo twisted the sweatshirt in his hands, the fraying hem and sleeves. It smelled like Finn. Finn had worn this sweatshirt while he was falling in love with Logan. Finn had worn this sweatshirt when he was the same age as Leo was now. And he let Leo take it whenever he wanted to, smiled when he saw him in it, smiled when he saw Leo.

Leo smoothed the fabric back out and flicked the bathroom light off. He could hear the noises from the TV in the living room. Logan was sprawled out on the couch, eyes on the movie. Finn was out with Alex, a quick meet up between regular season and playoffs. They’d gone to dinner with him yesterday, and Leo had liked Alex because of how much he reminded him of Finn. But Alex was also a good deal calmer than his brother. Logan was snarky with him, old friends. Leo was new.

Everything was new and fresh—and set against very old ties.

Logan looked up when Leo came back and spread his thighs a little, looking warm in his thick, gray sweatshirt—Leo’s—and sweatpants. He flexed his toes and they cracked, a habit Leo associated with him finally winding down for the night on roadies.

“Ça va?”

Leo nodded as he knelt on the couch before bracketing Logan in with his hands and knees. Logan smiled and his laugh was the quiet one that Leo loved. It was sleepy, it came out in the early morning and the night and only him and Finn ever heard it. It came with ruffled hair and the slight scent of the tiger balm that Logan liked for his ankles and feet when they were sore from tightly laced skates. They had spent the day unpacking Logan’s things into the third bedroom—which was mostly for closet space only. They’d all taken to Finn’s king sized bed. Leo had never looked forward to falling asleep so much. Even when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was almost easy to fall asleep again. Logan, the lightest sleeper on Earth, had figured Leo’s habits out pretty quickly and would spend Leo didn’t know how long running his fingers over Leo’s neck and back. Leo wanted to stay awake sometimes, just to hear Logan’s half-asleep, half-French replies.

Almost two months ago, Leo had told Logan and Finn that he was going to fall for them when, truthfully, Leo had already been in free-fall.

He wondered what they’d say if he told them that they’d already caught him—that he’d realized this all a few days ago, sweaty and maybe a little dehydrated after their win against Vegas. He’d watched Logan trading sips of champagne with Pascal, and felt Finn pressed against his side, lips against his neck whispering, shut out, shut out, baby, shut out—

I love you, Leo had thought.

“Plus jolie,” Logan’s socked feet settled near the backs of Leo’s knees, hands wrapping around Leo’s wrists. He was still smiling. Leo didn’t really have a plan from here, but he definitely didn’t want to stop looking at Logan.

Leo wrinkled his nose and Logan laughed. “Un chérubin.” Logan reached up and tugged lightly on a lock of Leo’s hair. “Les boucles.”

Leo shook his head. “I don’t know that one.”

“Curls,” Logan translated, and then pushed his fingers through Leo’s hair. “I liked you in that shirt last night.”

Leo smiled. Logan was becoming more and more like this. He seemed to take the most pleasure in telling Leo and Finn every little thing he liked. It happened all the time and left Leo and Finn just grinning at each other.

“Oh yeah?” Leo lowered himself to his forearms and Logan’s ankles slid to loop with his.

“You looked so good.”

It had the same effect on Leo every time. A warm wash over his whole being.

“I like you living here,” Leo replied, and leaned down to press a kiss to Logan’s mouth.

Logan looked pleased and pushed his chin up for another kiss before looking up and behind him at the empty boxes piled in the corner. “Finn’ll be happy he got out of the last of the unboxing.” Logan smiled back at Leo. “You’re better at organizing anyway.”

“And folding,” Leo said. “And cleaning—”

Logan pressed his palms to Leo’s cheeks, pushing them until his lips puckered. “D’accord, d’accord.”

Leo had to kiss him again. Logan sighed when Leo parted from him to sit up his heels. He looked at the TV where there was some sort of car chase happening, rubbing his hands along Logan’s thighs, digging his thumbs into his hip flexors, where he knew he was always sore. Logan hummed happily and closed his eyes.

“What’s this movie again?”

“No idea,” Logan said. “Ouch. Fuck, that feels good.”

“Do you think Alex liked me?” Leo said as he pressed into Logan’s firm muscle.

Logan cracked on eye open. “Yeah, I do.”

Leo nodded. “Okay, good.”

Logan’s muscles tensed beneath Leo’s palms as he hooked his ankles around Leo’s back to pull himself up into a sitting position. Leo felt Logan’s fingers on his chin a moment later, bringing his face away from the television.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

Logan tilted his head and pulled himself closer, making Leo spread his knees. He stroked his thumb over Leo’s lip. “You look sad or something.”

Leo couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not really sad.” He lifted Logan’s knees for a minute so he could push his straighten his legs out the other way. He held Logan’s hips when they settled again, facing each other, tangled.

“I don’t know,” Leo said as Logan messed with his hair again. “I think meeting Alex, like really meeting him, just…made me remember that you and Finn have known each other a lot longer than I’ve been in the picture.”

Logan’s fingers stilled. He looked at Leo and there was a little glance of fear in his expression.

“Well,” he began. “I mean, yeah, but…but that’s okay. You don’t feel like we—do we make you feel bad?”

Leo shook his head quickly. “Not even a little.” Leo looked down at his sweatshirt. Finn’s. “I just… Sometimes I think about Harvard.”

“Harvard?” Logan repeated. “What do you mean?”

Leo looked at the movie again. The cars were gone and there was a house in a field, and two parties were sneaking around it.

“I wasn’t there,” Leo said. “Sometimes that’s…like, I wonder what it would have been like if I was. You two are so close because of it and I love hearing stories about it, but I just… I think about it.”

Logan was quiet for so long that Leo looked at him. When he did, it was to see Logan with concerned eyes. He was chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Harvard was really great. But it was also really hard,” Logan swallowed. “You think the NHL is bad with this stuff, you should try a bunch of seventeen to twenty year-olds in a locker room. Being gay—or anything other than a guy who likes to talk about how big a girl’s breasts are—it was a complete joke. It was worse than a joke. And I’m so glad you weren’t there.”

Logan seemed to be half talking to himself, hands trailing across the turn of Leo’s jaw. Always busy. He and Finn both did that. They were always reaching out to touch, Logan only recently so. Leo loved it. He loved their hands and their skin and the way it was mindless and gentle. Leo looked over Logan’s face. Soft lips, darkest eyelashes Leo had ever seen, sun faded scar across his nose.

Leo squeezed his hips. “Don’t stress. Lo, you never do anything to make me feel like, what,” Leo snorted. “Left out. Neither of you do.”

“I’m not stressed,” Logan said. “It’s just weird to think about. I was so convinced, you know? That this wasn’t an option.” Logan looked down. “I hurt Finn.”

“Tremz,” Leo shook his head. “Look at what kind of situation you were in.”

“I know, but I did hurt him,” Logan looked back up at Leo with a small smile. “And I know I don’t talk about it. And I know me and him still have more to say about it. But I won’t hurt you.” He pressed his palms to Leo’s cheeks and kissed him firmly. “So, I don’t want you at Harvard. I want you now, where I can want you with—with everything. Toutes les choses.”

Leo let his head drop back, grinning, and Logan laughed.

“Too mushy for you?” He pulled Leo in by his shirt, his lips against Leo’s throat. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“I don’t know, Finn gets pretty mushy.”

Logan laughed louder, untangling their legs and pushing his way into Leo’s lap. “He does. But heads up, he’s horrible at gift giving. Which is kind of ironic, given how good he is at…” Logan pushed his hips down against Leo’s. “Literally everything else. Besides cooking. And unboxing, apparently,” He kissed below Leo’s chin. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Leo sighed. “It’s—what’s bothering me isn’t something I actually think.”

When Logan just raised an eyebrow at him, Leo couldn’t help but laugh. “This is where Finn would be literally begging me to tell him.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Logan shrugged. He turned his head and kissed Leo’s wrist, right where his bracelet was.

They kissed quietly then, Logan pressing so close that Leo felt surrounded by him. They both jumped when a bomb went off in the movie, gunfire exploding into action.

Logan cursed and reached for the remote to flick it off. “We’re not even watching this.”

“What should we get for dinner?” Leo said, drumming his fingers on Logan’s back. “Should we order something? Want sushi?”

“Ouais, sounds good.”

Logan stayed nestled against Leo while he put the order into Caviar. They lay together quietly, which was almost nicer than anything else. Logan was somehow both one of the most guarded and most open people Leo had ever met at the same time. He didn’t always want to talk about it, but he understood himself. Leo loved that about him. He loved Logan.

“You almost kissed me,” Leo said into the quiet. “Twice.”

“Freaked myself the fuck out,” Logan smiled. Leo felt the words rumble against his chest. “And probably you, too. Sorry.”

Leo shook his head. “It was—it was sort of good. It made me decided that I was going to talk to you. Not at Christmas, when you met June for the first time, but the second time. On the road. And then Finn kissed me a few days later.”

“What would you have said?” Logan asked softly.

“I…well, I wasn’t going to tell you I liked you or anything like that. I was just going to say that I understood. Because I thought you liked Finn. And I was pretty sure I was just…the easier option.” Leo laughed a little. “I almost stopped wearing my bracelet. Thought it was too obvious. But then Finn kissed me and, well, you know what happened next.”

“I didn’t know about you,” Logan replied. “I just…”

Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re the most impulsive and the most guarded person in the entire world.”

Logan laughed. “I guess I am.”

~

Sharing a hotel room with Logan was torture.

He was messy as hell. He left water all over the bathroom floor as if he had tried to take a shower at the sink. He complained about the too silky feeling of the hotel sheets. He slept in threadbare sleep pants with a hole at the top of one thigh that was not getting any smaller. He ordered peppermint tea before bed and sipped it, holding the cup close with both hands. Sometimes he snorted when he laughed. They sat on one bed instead of two when they watched TV. One time Leo had fallen asleep and woken up at one thirty in the morning to Logan beside him. Logan had let him stay.

Leo had immediately felt bad. They had a game tomorrow. He was taking up so much room, Logan should have taken his bed, really. But, instead, he was curled on his side facing Leo, asleep. Their bare feet were touching, like they had found each other in the night.

Leo didn’t know how he had managed to fall asleep in the first place. Not after everything.

They had been watching National Treasure. They’d been half keeping track of the plot, half scrolling on their phones, maybe another half talking about the game coming up. Leo could tell something was wrong. He’d seen it in Finn, too. Logan, loud and fiery, was subdued. And Leo couldn’t believe himself, but he thought Finn had something to do with it. Leo couldn’t believe himself, but he wanted nothing more than to reach out and fix it.

Logan was torture, because Logan was Logan, and Leo was Leo.

Leo rubbed the bracelet on his wrist and looked at the blue light from the phone light up Logan’s face. His lips were parted, breathing softly as he looked mindlessly at instagram, flashing through pictures of babies, couples with wine glasses, peace signs and advertisements for the car he’d been looking at. Logan had his hood pulled over his head, and he was slumped into his pillows, knees pulled up. It looked like the overly plush hotel quilt would swallow him up if he sunk down any further.

Leo was stretched out, toes near the edge of the bed. Characters were running through a market on the TV, and Leo was trying to decide if he should say something—

“Tremz,” Leo said.

“Hm,” Logan had switched to twitter.

“Do you want your tea? I’m gonna order the sundae on the room service menu.”

Logan looked at him.

“What?” Leo shrugged. “I had a good game. Everyone needs a good sundae every once in a while.”

A small smile crept over Logan’s face and Leo felt like he could practically watch Logan look at him. His green eyes flit between Leo’s, down to his mouth, and then back up again.

“I…yes. Yeah, I’ll have one, too. And tea.”

Leo rolled onto his side, back towards Logan, to make the call. When he faced the television again, Logan was still looking at him.

“Did you want something else?” Leo asked. “I should’ve checked.”

Logan shook his head. “Non.” He cleared his throat and pushed himself up against his pillows. “Non, it’s perfect.”

“Me and my dad would have sundaes,” Leo said. “After games. He’d take me to this ice cream place that had been there for, like, a century or something way old like that. And so, if I have a good game, or if I miss home, I usually have one. Haven’t really done it on the road yet, though.” Leo smiled. “Finn sure likes it when I make them.”

Logan blinked at the mention of Finn, but he didn’t mention him further. “Do you miss home now?” he asked instead.

Leo ran a hand through his hair. “I think I always miss home a little.”

Logan was still looking at him with his dark-lashed eyes. “Like, home as in New Orleans, or home as in your family?”

“Both,” Leo said. “But I definitely think home is more people-based for me.”

Logan nodded slowly. He looked down at his phone, turning it over in his hands a few times. The background, Leo had noticed before, was a picture of him and Finn. It had been taken by someone else and they looked younger in it, maybe a little drunk. Finn had Logan’s hat on and their cheeks were pressed together, both laughing.

“Yeah,” Logan said faintly, looking at it. Then, he looked at Leo, and Leo looked at Logan looking at him all over again. “Me, too.” 

“Do you—” Leo began, then paused. “You miss someone, Tremz?”

Logan’s laugh was small and humorless. “Does it count if I see them every day?”

Leo jolted a little. He hadn’t expected a response like that. He hadn’t really expected a response at all. And Logan wasn’t looking at him anymore, not even at his phone, but the complete other direction. Out the dark hotel window.

Leo risked scooting forward a little. This was surreal. This was Logan Tremblay who he was comforting—well, trying to anyways. The boy who Leo had watched on TV more times than he could count, who he admired endlessly. Just as Logan was about to speak again, Logan turned towards him again, leaning in.

“Leo—”

Leo felt them both freeze. Leo knew he was probably too close. He could feel Logan’s breaths. He thought about Christmas, and Logan’s mouth so close to his. He definitely thought about just leaning forward—

“I’m sorry you’re homesick,” Logan finally said. The words settled quietly between them, and Logan didn’t move away.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry you’re…”

Logan smiled a closed smile when Leo trailed off.

“Oui,” Logan whispered, and his eyes moved to Leo’s mouth, then back up. “I don’t know what I am, either.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Room service,” came a muffled voice.

Leo, unable to stand the tormented look that Logan had on his face, rolled off of the bed and got the door.

~

“I looked up to you guys before getting here,” Leo said quietly.

Logan pushed himself onto his elbows to look at Leo. “Did you have our posters?”

Leo snorted. “You’ll never know.”

“Please tell me. Our jerseys?”

Leo just raised an eyebrow and smiled. “What if I only had one of your jerseys and not the other’s?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Please let me tell Finn that you had mine and not his.”

“No way.”

“As a prank, please, Nut, please.”

“If Finn thinks that is real for even two seconds he will never stop talking about it,” Leo laughed. “No way.”

“But I love it when he’s angry, it’s so—not really angry, but his little fits where his ears get red?” Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling like it was the best thing he could ever think about.

Leo smiled. “I really love that I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

I love you.

“Nous avons de la chance,” Logan grinned.

We’re lucky.

“It’s just that,” Leo took a slow breath. “I feel, like, too lucky. What if things had happened differently? What if Finn never told me he liked me? Because I would never have told him, or either of you. I never would have, Tremz, I couldn’t ruin you two like that. And then, I just would have—sat there every day.”

Logan said something soft and soothing in French. His mouth, when he kissed Leo, was just as gentle.

“I know,” Logan said. “And I can’t think about that. I need you.”

“I need you, too.”

~

Finn was at Dumo’s Christmas party with a girl. June. June was nice. Leo liked June. And maybe Finn did, too, but…still. Leo wondered what Logan thought.

Standing there in Pascal’s kitchen, looking at Logan’s pale face, Leo wondered what Logan knew.

“Excuse me,” Logan breathed, and then he was bolting down the basement steps to where Leo knew his bedroom was.

“I’ll go make sure he’s,” Leo began, but trailed off over a hard swallow. Finn looked sort of wrecked, as much as Logan had, Remus looked confused, and June looked—almost analytical.

“He’s had a lot to drink,” Leo finished lamely, and made his escape after Logan.

He was…endlessly confused by June.

The basement was a kid’s wonderland. A small floor hockey rink was put down over the carpet, littered with various sized roller blades. There was a mat for gymnastics, a foam basketball hoop, Barbie houses and legos and pirate ships all pushed together to make a giant, impressively realistic sort of town with ports and streets and gardens. There was a massive television with equally large, plush leather couches, thick fleece blankets thrown over the backs. Bean bags, and video games, and surround-sound. And to the left of it all, Logan’s bedroom door, plastered with loving signs made for him by the Dumais children. Stick figure after stick figure with hearts and stars—some of them looked like they were wearing a backwards hat. Leo smiled at the sight, then knocked on the slightly ajar door.

“Tremz?” he called out softly.

There was no sound from within for a second, and then he heard Logan clear his throat. “Ouais. Yeah, come in.”

Leo slid through the door and closed it behind him. Logan looked frozen, back towards him, between the door and his bed. His hands were in fists at his sides, and Leo, only half sure of what he was doing, crossed the room until they were facing each other. He took one of Logan’s hands and uncurled it, and then the other. Logan watched him do it with a glazed expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” Logan said.

Leo just hugged him.

“I’m fine,” Logan said again, voice more hoarse. “I didn’t drink that much.”

“Okay.”

Logan’s shoulders only relaxed after a good minute, and he turned his nose into Leo’s neck and held on.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fine,” Leo replied.

“Knutty,” Logan whispered, and Leo had a sudden feeling that Logan was going to fall apart right there in his arms.

“What can I do, Tremz?”

Logan pulled back some, but only enough that his cheek brushed Leo’s, the side of his mouth against Leo’s jaw. Leo stopped breathing entirely. This was the most contact like this that he had had in a long time, and Logan was warm and gorgeous, but he was also hurting, and Finn was upstairs with a girl, and Leo didn’t understand.

“Logan?” Leo whispered.

All Leo could make out from this close, this angle, was that Logan had his eyes closed. If Leo turned his head any more to look, they’d be—

Logan leaned into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I—no, that’s okay—”

Logan sucked in a sharp breath and then he was turning away, out of Leo’s arms. There was a horrible moment of hanging in a balance of silence.

“We should get back to the party,” was all Logan said after that.

~

“What are you thinking about?” Logan asked, brushing their lips together.

“Christmas,” Leo whispered back.

“Knutty,” Logan’s brows drew together. Seconds after the word was out of his mouth, he was kissing Leo, a little sloppily, hands in his hair. Leo breathed in through his nose and let it fill him up.

“How’s that?” Logan said when they finally broke apart.

“Very purposeful, thanks.”

Logan smiled, looking down at Leo, and then the smile slowly dropped off of his face.

Leo blinked. “What? What’s wrong?”

Logan sighed. He carded his fingers through Leo’s hair, thumb and forefinger messing with the grayish tuft at the front. “Harzy’s going to kill me.”

Leo’s laugh was halted in his confusion. “Why…”

Logan’s mouth twisted a little, like he was biting the inside of his cheek, and then he watched his own fingers twirling the gray streak in Leo’s hair for a moment. When his eyes found Leo’s again, he looked resolute. “I love you.”

Leo thought about Harvard.

He wondered about loving Logan and Finn amid locker room glances and looming dreams of success. Between classes and team dinners and roommates. Late night studying and parties where he would have to watch them pick up girls. He thought of four years of it, instead of a few months.

Leo thought about Christmas.

He thought of Finn, and days in the apartment with him, reading and talking and staying up late. Then, June. Logan’s wound up frame.

Logan was looking at him now, green eyes soft and calm. He knew Leo loved him. Leo supposed he had known Logan loved him. Finn, too. Logan just smiled and kissed his surprised mouth in quick bursts, and then in long, aching strokes that pulled Leo’s heart completely apart like it was merely made of string.

“Mon coeur,” Logan mumbled.

“I love you,” Leo finally managed. The words sounded surprised, although he wasn’t. 

“I would have loved you at Harvard,” Logan said softly. “I would love you in, I don’t know—in the arctic. I would love you at war, or stuck on some island together, or I would love you in fucking ancient Rome. I’d love you anywhere, Leo. I love you now. We both do.”

Keys jingled in the door, and Logan smiled, glancing up. Leo was glad that he didn’t hear Finn talking because that meant Alex wasn’t with him and Leo was fairly sure he couldn’t hold any type of conversation right now. Logan whispered the phrase once more into the soft skin of Leo’s jaw that he was kissing.

“I love coming home, wow,” Leo heard Finn sigh out as the door shut behind him. There was a clink that sounded like him throwing his keys onto the counter and then he appeared upside down above Leo, his hands on the couch arm behind Leo’s head. “Hi, guys.”

Logan laughed softly into Leo’s neck. Leo just stared up at him.

Finn looked between them. “What?”

When they didn’t answer, Finn’s face turned worried and he pulled himself around to crouch at their sides, one hand on Logan’s back. “What the fuck, what?”

“I…” Leo began.

“Watch this,” Logan said, and then looked at Leo, brushing their noses together. “Love you, Knutty.”

Leo bit his lip. “Love you.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment. Logan looked at him expectantly, Leo sheepishly. Finn’s face seemed frozen. Strangely blank. And then he punched Logan in the arm. Hard.

“Ow,” Logan laughed louder.

“Fucking—” Finn shook his head. “Fuck you. We had a plan.”

“I had to,” Logan said. “He was just sitting there, not knowing. He was sad.”

Leo hit Logan on the back of the head lightly. “I wasn’t sad.”

“But without me?” Finn pushed on. “You couldn’t have waited another fucking hour?”

Logan just buried his face in Leo’s neck again, settling himself more firmly on top of him. It left Leo and Finn looking at each other, Leo smiling in a way that felt a little dopey to him, and Finn with his mouth open. He had his glasses on, making his brown eyes reflect the light and turn all sorts of different shades.

“Well, fuck,” Finn said. “This is the most unromantic thing ever.”

“No, it’s not,” Logan mumbled.

Finn sent him a glare, even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll get you for this, Tremblay.”

Logan peaked out at him. Leo could feel his eyelashes against his neck. “That sounds fun.”

“Logan,” Finn groaned.

Logan smiled and scraped his teeth against Leo’s neck in a playful nip. It unraveled him all over again. “Don’t you have something you wanna tell Leo?”

Finn’s expression melted some at that. He looked at Leo and took a long, slow breath. He still had his coat on, and the dark wool made his pale skin creamy.

“You had to know,” Finn said softly. Leo thought he could hear a catch of emotion in his voice. “Of course, we were going to tell you, but…you had to know how much we love you.”

Leo nodded. “I…I wasn’t sure, but…Or, I was sure. But it’s not really true until… And you two have known each other so much longer.” Leo sighed. “When Tremz said I was sad. I wasn’t, but I guess that’s been bothering me. I’m…newer. And I hear you guys say it and I…I love hearing you say you love each other. But I also wanted it and I knew I should wait because I’m not, you know. If you weren’t ready, I didn’t want to say it first and, like, make you feel like you had to.”

“Baby,” Finn whispered. He reached out and laced his fingers in Leo’s hair. “I…Me and Tremz, how could we not—Tremz?”

Logan raised his head. “I remember realizing I liked you.”

Finn snorted. “I remember realizing Logan liked you.” He smirked. “Because I liked that.”

“I’m talking.”

“Sorry.”

“I remember realizing I liked you,” Logan said again. “And I remember almost kissing you, and…Nut, I could never feel like I had to do anything with you. There is no have to. It’s all want.”

Leo smiled. “Yeah?”

Finn leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Leo’s cheek and looked at his torso. “Nice sweatshirt.”

Leo bit his lip. “Thanks.”

“You didn’t have to know us then or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Leo let his head fall back against the cushions. With things like these, Finn always seemed to know.

“We didn’t even know us then, if you think about it,” Finn smiled. “You just had to be the tall as hell, kind, hot ass rookie that suddenly showed up in our lives. Who we didn’t know we needed.” Finn looked up at Logan briefly when Logan took his hand. “We love you,” he said, and looked at Logan, then at Leo. He seemed at serious as Logan had, sure and steady and hoping. “I love you.”

Leo had a hand on each of them, Finn pressing his cheek into his palm. “Love you, Fish.”

The buzzer rang, signaling someone was at the door downstairs.

“Food,” Logan said and rolled off of Leo. He pulled Finn in for a kiss before he went to the door, socks slipping a little on the floor as he went to let the delivery up.

It freed up space for Finn to pull himself between Leo’s thighs and kiss him quiet and warm.

“I love you so fucking much, Nutter Butter,” Finn whispered.

“Me too,” Leo said. Finn smelled like the wind and coming snow, and Leo wanted to warm him right up.

Finn grinned. “I love you and we’re going to the playoffs.”

“Yeah, we are,” Leo pushed Finn’s glasses up his nose.

“And you can do the splits.”

Leo snorted. “Is this how your brain works?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded hurriedly with a shrug, looking nothing short of elated.

“Food,” Logan called out, closing the apartment door behind him. “Nutty, allez, or I’m taking all the edamame.”

Finn got up and pulled Leo after him.

~

“Mama?” Leo said into his phone.

“Hi, honey,” Eloise Knut said. Leo could hear the pots and pans in the background and when he closed his eyes he could practically smell the spices cooking. “How are you, baby? I’m just starting dinner. We’ve got all our tickets booked, me and your daddy, we’re so excited! Oh, Wyatt’s just buying all of your boys’ stuff—mostly yours.”

“Picture that,” Leo smiled into the phone. “Wyatt Knut buying hockey merch.”

Eloise laughed. “Our closet’s a Lions’ den, that’s for sure. We’ve got Black, we’ve got Potter—oh and you know how I like that Tremblay.”

Leo pressed a hand over his cheek, grinning so hard they hurt. “Yes, I know.”

“That accent,” Eloise said. “And those eyes.”

“Is dad still at work?” Leo said. “I just have some—well, news. Some good—really good news.”

“Better than the playoffs? Damn, honey. Well, yes, Wyatt’s still at the office, but you know him, always home soon. Do you wanna wait, or…”

Leo laughed. “Like you could let me wait after hearing I have news.”

“Well, if you want to!” his mom tapped a spoon on the side of a pan. “I’ll just be here making some stew, minding my own business.”

As if Leo could ever hold out on telling her now that he’d gotten this far.

“Mama—” he said, then cut off. Tears welled up in his throat and he pressed a hand over his eyes.

“Sweetheart? Honey, what is it? Are you—” she paused. “Is…is this about something to do with…you know, the bracelet?”

“Yeah,” Leo managed. “Yeah, mama.”

“Oh, Leo,” she breathed. “Let me turn the stove off.”

Leo laughed wetly, wiping his eyes as he listened to his mom bustle around the kitchen, heard a chair scrape out against the kitchen tiles.

“Okay, I’m ready, I’m ready.”

Leo could picture her there, blonde hair piled high on her head with a clip, strong and lean from her morning runs. He could see the sunlight coming in through the shutters and the radio playing softly in the steam from the food she was cooking.

“It’s—it’s a little more than we’ve ever talked about so stay with me, okay?” Leo said.

“Honey, you could fall in love with a sea turtle and I’d throw you a wedding party.”

“No sea turtles over here, but…”

“But?” Eloise said. “Oh, tell me, I’m gonna fall over.”

Leo grinned, laying back on his bed. “You were saying you liked Logan Tremblay?”

There was one beat of silence, then two, and then Eloise all but squeaked.

“No,” she shouted into the phone and Leo laughed. “Oh my—my favorite?”

“That’s not all,” Leo said, rubbing a hand over his chest. His heart was pounding.

“Not all?”

“Finn O’Hara?” Leo said. “My—

“Your roommate? Oh, Leo. Wait…Logan and Finn? When you said more, I wasn’t thinking…”

“Pretty crazy, huh? But yeah.” Leo looked towards his closed door, towards the living room where he knew they were waiting for him. “Logan and Finn, we’re all…Logan moved in and, well, we’re us.”

“Tell me everything.”

Logan was laying on Finn’s chest on the couch when Leo came back into the living room.

Finn’s eyes found his from the TV and he scoffed. “Lover-nut, why you gotta be so pretty when you’ve been crying?”

They made room for Leo to sit down, Logan in the middle and basically throwing his weight into Leo’s side. Leo wrapped an arm around him. “Both of you have called me pretty today.”

“You are,” Logan said.

Finn threw his legs across them. “How’d it go?”

“Really good. My dad wasn’t there, but I’m sure my mom will let it slip before I call again,” Leo laughed. “But really, really good. You’re my mom’s favorite, Tremz.”

Logan whooped and Finn hit the couch.

“Damn.”

“Also, also—” Logan began, already laughing.

“No, Lo,” Leo tried to cover his mouth.

“Knutty had my jersey and not yours, Finn.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I—”

“Excuse me, Leonardonius Knut? I’m going to get one of mine right fucking now—”

Leo just laughed, and let Finn wrestle him down to the couch, shaking his head at a smirking Logan.

“—and you’re putting it on—”

“I only had Kasey’s jersey if you must know.”

“Kasey?” they said.

“I’m a goalie, guys, what did you expect?”

Finn looked between them. “Is this a joke? Lo. Lo, were you fucking with me?”

Logan tugged lightly on the band of Leo’s sweatpants. “Ouais. But you could still give Leo your jersey if you wanted to.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Be right back.”

Logan laughed and kissed him as Finn climbed over the back of the couch.

Leo loved them, more than he could say, and each time he thought it, he felt brand-new.

[unnie-lili]

Can We Talk? (2/9)

Requested : yes

15. “Fun fact : I haven't listened to a single thing you just told me.”

14. “Are you blushing?”

from my Prompts list

Requests are : OPEN

pairing : Wonwoo x Mingyu, other Seventeen members make an appearance, fem!OC (Mina) x Mingyu

genre : Enemies to lovers!AU, College!AU, a bit of angst, Wonwoo and Mingyu are the same age to simplify the story

word count : 12.5k

warnings : cursing, mentions of violence (not graphic), a small fight (a few pushes, nothing more), alcohol consumption

A/N : I got carried away with this request. Hope you all enjoy 💜

MASTERLIST | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | EPILOGUE

“Don't worry, Mingyu, everything's fine,” Chan huffed as he put another moving box on Mingyu's bed. “He's not even here yet, maybe he doesn't know you're his roommate.”

“Yet,” Mingyu whined, letting himself fall on the mattress, defeated.

“Oh, Chan's got a point,” Jeonghan pointed out, placing his hair in front of Mingyu's full-length mirror as Joshua entered the room with two heavy boxes in arms. “If you hide from him, learn his detailed schedule and his sleep pattern, you don't even have to see him.”

“For a whole year?” Joshua raised an eyebrow, putting the boxes down on the floor.

“Hey, watch your back, Shua,” Jeonghan replied.

“Maybe if you helped me move these boxes, I-” Joshua started, only to be cut by Jeonghan.

“Anyways,” the older man brushed him off. “Yeah, you could hide from him. And voilà, no need to stress, Wonwoo's an hermit regardless, he probably only will leave his room for necessities.”

“Oh, that's genius!” Chan beamed.

“No, it's not,” Joshua retorted. “Mingyu's not going to hide from his problems, he's going to face them and become the bigger man of the two.”

Mingyu stared at his friends, biting his lip nervously.

“Will you guys throw ramen packs at my windows if I hide in here?”

“Of course!” Chan patted his arm.

“No!” Joshua groaned. “Whatever Wonwoo has against you, Mingyu, this shouldn't affect your life. It's been years, if he hasn't moved on from his petty hatred, then he can rightfully go fuck himself.”

Jeonghan turned away from the mirror.

“Couldn't have said it better, Shua,” he purred. “Now, Mingyu, let's start unboxing all of these, I have a new episode of Boys Over Flowers to watch tonight.”

“You do have so much stuff,” Chan stared at the boxes filling the room. “Why do you have so much stuff?”

Mingyu tiredly got out of the bed, grabbing the box closest to him.

“Hasn't Boys Over Flowers ended, like, a decade ago?” Joshua asked, perplexed.

“Shh, details,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together. “Let's get to it, guys.”

Mingyu put some low-beat music on his portable speaker as they all started unboxing his items, quickly tidying the place up. After complaining about Mingyu's poor taste in music, Jeonghan became the assigned DJ while the others unpacked what was left. As Chan folded the last cardboard box and threw it in the pile of discarded box, Mingyu let out a sigh.

“Thanks, guys, for helping me,” he wiped the sweat on his forehead with his shirt. “I can order takeout for us, if you want.”

Chan and Jeonghan cheered, as Joshua looked at his phone.

“I would love to, but I have to go to the gym,” he explained. “I told Seokmin I would work out with him tonight.”

“I see,” Jeonghan squinted his eyes from his phone. “Cheater.”

“First of all, no,” Joshua sighed, “we aren't together. Second of all, no.”

“You said no twice,” Chan remarked.

“Exactly,” Joshua gave no further explanation. He hugged Mingyu tightly. “Be brave, Mingyu. You can do this. You can always call me or drop by if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Shua, it really means a lot,” Mingyu hugged him back. “Now, go, I don't want you to be late and it being my fault.”

Joshua left the dorm quickly, waving goodbye at Chan and ignoring Jeonghan's whispered “Cheater”. Mingyu looked at his two best friends, getting his phone out.

“So... What kind of take-out do you want?”

After a while of bickering between Jeonghan and Chan, the three men decided on the Chinese place down the road, only because no one can lose an argument against Jeonghan. Whilst Mingyu was ordering, Chan was putting on a movie for them to watch while eating.

“It should be here in half an hour,” Mingyu informed them after hanging up.

They all sat down comfortably on the bed, watching the movie from the TV standing dangerously on Mingyu's small dresser. About thirty minutes later, a knock was heard on the door.

“I'll get it,” Mingyu grabbed his wallet, heading to the front door as Jeonghan and Chan were chanting Take-out! repeatedly.

Taking out his card, Mingyu opened the door and raised his eyes, only to look directly into Wonwoo's equally confused stare. Mingyu's eyes widened, his mouth dropping as his whole body froze in place.

To say he was expecting this, expecting him, would be a lie. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, at a loss for words.

“Hey, I have a delivery for Kim Mingyu here-”

The delivery man stopped in his tracks, looking at the two men in front of him, staring at each other intently.

“Uh... Cash or credit?”

PREVIOUS : PART ONE | MASTERLIST | NEXT : PART THREE

[hayuryu]

Seventeen 9th Mini Album "Attacca" Carat version (Part 3)

Hohohoo

It's already part 3

It's time for my 97l babies

For other version you can find it here 95l, 96l and maknae line

The8

It's The8 set

As I already said before this version is really hard to find too

Although you bought 13 albums it doesn't guarantee you'll get all the members

And the craziest things is one of my friend got same member for 13 versions

This makes me hate weverse even more lol

I don't know if I already said it before but I think there just 3 clothes used for this photoshoot

1 for op1, 1 for op2 and 1 for op3 and carat version

And for carat version they only use 1 clothes but with 2 different photo techniques (?)

Mingyu

It's Mingyu set

Mingyu got another legend photocard lol

Many people want that pout photocard

I think mingyu know how to make his photocard price got higher. Not only because he's popular but also his pose is good

When I said his pose is good you can watch this photosets

But obviously his face complete fashion

Just look at his face

It's really gorgeous (don't mind me I love his face hahahaa)

But sometimes when he do photoshoot/filming something. His expression almost the same. But he's better than Jeonghan in this case (I know I'll get hate if I write this but I don't really care lol. I'll just write my honest opinion)

DK

It's DK set

This is one of the rare cover in my country

This is just TMI, because I got 2 DK cover I decided to sell it

A few hour after I post it it's already sold

And some people send me message and ask if I have another copy and after they know that I don't have, they asked if I'll restock it

They said it's really hard to find

Actually, I only sell it because I have more copies so I don't have any reason to restock some albums.

This dk with mermaid concept was good

Pledis please give seventeen this kind of concept

I just don't understand why he's shaving in that photoshoot

Also today I received one of my ai no chikara Christmas box

I need to wait for another one to arrive but I think it got red line and being sent to Japan again...

I hope it'll arrive soon

Actually I already unboxing it and the photocard makes me speechless

And you know that woozi come up with solo song earlier this year. It's English song

I hope they'll release new TTT photobook

Okay that's all for today

I'll be back soon with maknae line version

And I'll post about social club afterwards. I already take photos for it

See you next time

[omgitscharlie]

Thank you @mamabearcat and @anisaanisa​ for tagging me in this! It seems like a bunch of fun.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

TAGGING: @lavendertwilight89 @keichanz @fandomobsessions016, @unlockthelore, @lemonlushff, @clearwillow, @inussunflower, @loveyou-x3000, @ruddcatha, @notkorras​

I don’t want to clutter up your feed, so I’ve listed them all below! As for my little analysis, it seems I really enjoy starting fics with dialogue as well as with pointed words haha. I thought I started with dialogue a whole lot more than I thought, though, so that’s good! Also, surreal to see the starting lines for my multichapter fics, especially Hit the Like button, and see how far it’s come since that opening line!

one. “Remember when I first met your mom?” || Still Into You

two. [SMS sending to: Babygirl ❤️] - i’m gunna be home late. sesshomaru tossed somethin on my plate last minute. needs it by saturday. (seen ✔️) || Office Hours

three. It wasn't her choice, not even in the slightest. || The Warlord’s Tribute

four. "Hey friends, this video is going to be a little different." || Hit the Like Button

five. gnawing. barking. screeching. || ...and their eulogies sang me to sleep

six. Booze. Pot. Nicotine.  || Seven Minutes in Heaven

seven. It’d been long since he’d been surrounded by the rolling hills of Resembool. || Equivalent Exchange

eight.  The snow fell in dumps, making the landscape look like some sort of ethereal world far, far away. || Pupped

nine.  The first snowfall of the season had Kagome waking up early to simply sit by the window and watch the flakes gracefully fall to the ground. || A Piece of Home

ten.  Typically, she knew better; knew to keep her emotions under control at least enough to not pick fights as often as she used to. || Fist Fight

eleven.  “Fuckー“ || Sneak

twelve.  “Inuー” she gasped, tugging at the rope that bound her arms above her head, “PleaseーI can’t ー” || Sore Muscles

thirteen.  “Please tell me this is the last of ‘em.” || PR Unboxing

fourteen.  Every muscle in his body told him that he needed to go, to barge in and draw his sword towards the beast that was making his wife scream and wail like she was. || Double-Edged

fifteen.  All. Fucking. Day. || Pick a Number

sixteen.  It was the sun's first light and all that could be heard was the light sound of White-Eye birds singing in the treetops. || Learning to Live

seventeen.  Already, he was uncomfortable. || The Boyfriend Tag

eighteen.  "Hey, Kagome! Why the long face? It's not like you!" || Just Once

nineteen.   He'd left that morning with Miroku, which meant at least three days of his absence. || Her Mother’s Daughter

twenty.   "Hold on there, kiddo." || A Father’s Worst Fear

twenty-one.  It had started with a simple, slow, wet kiss to the pulse point on his neck before they left the house and words that seemed to hint towards more. ||  Dominance

[junghelioseok]

change. | 08

↳ a kind, handsome stranger makes you question your deteriorating relationship.

◇ taehyung x reader | jungkook x reader ◇ angst | smut | fluff ◇ 4.4k [8/10]

warnings: angst. almost smut. a teeny bit of rough treatment.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | epilogue ✓

You can’t concentrate.

For the past two hours, you’re fairly certain that the only thing you’ve accomplished is opening your email inbox and rereading the same seventeen unread subject lines. The apple you’d grabbed on your way out the door sits on a napkin, untouched, and your coffee—freshly brewed this morning—has long since gone cold.

Today is Friday, which would normally be cause for celebration. The first four days of the workweek had passed in a haze of monotony, and when you’d glanced at the calendar this morning, you’d nearly dropped your mug. But instead of looking forward to the weekend—and the holidays—like the rest of the world, you are dreading tomorrow’s arrival.

Tomorrow, you are supposed to get on a train back to your hometown. Tomorrow, Jungkook is supposed to meet your family.

And yet, Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

Your phone sits at your elbow, the screen black and silent. You’d finally worked up the nerve to call your boyfriend last night after downing two glasses of wine, but to your dismay, there had been no answer. You wonder if he’s even listened to the voicemail you’d left, but a cynical little voice in your head tells you that you already know the answer. He hasn’t even responded to your last eight texts, it says mockingly. Why would he listen to your voicemail now?

Sighing, you tell the voice to kindly shut the fuck up and return to the task at hand. Clicking open the first email, you read through it, fingers tapping on the edge of the keyboard as you formulate your answer. Going through your inbox is routine and familiar, and you finally manage to get Jungkook off your mind as you respond to all the emails that need your attention and forward along the ones that do not.

Just as you open up the last one, your phone buzzes atop your desk. The vibration is startlingly loud against the wooden surface, and for one brief, shining moment you think that perhaps Jungkook has finally come around. But when you glance down at the lit screen, your boyfriend’s name isn’t the one that’s displayed there. Instead, Taehyung’s name flashes up at you in bold black letters, your phone buzzing again as a second message comes in immediately after the first.

[11:01am] Taehyung: IMG_0027.jpg

[11:01am] Taehyung: tan made a new friend today!

Curiosity piqued, you click on the attachment, smiling when a familiar little Pomeranian pops up onto the screen. Next to Yeontan is another dog—a brown and white creature with liquid eyes and soft, floppy ears. Another message pops up below the photo, and you scroll down to read it.

[11:02am] Taehyung: his name is mickey! he’s cute, right?

Very, you write back. What are you and Tan up to today?

Three dots appear at the bottom of your screen, indicating his incoming response. Taehyung has been texting you all week, sending anything from new jokes he’s heard to pictures of art that he’s considering for his gallery. You’d readily welcomed the distraction from your troubles, and any and all thoughts of Jungkook are shoved to the very back of your mind when your phone vibrates again.

[11:04am] Taehyung: hoseok’s visiting studio v. mickey’s his dog!

Imagining the cheery red-haired artist with the fluffy puppy makes you smile. So the new exhibit is going well? you query.

[11:06am] Taehyung: amazingly well! remember this?

[11:06am] Taehyung: IMG_0028.jpg

Your breath catches in your throat when you click open the photograph, taking in the familiar lines and colors. You recognize the painting, of course—the two hands with their interlaced fingers, delicate green vines with red blossoms wound around their arms. Beneath the canvas sits a little brass placard, the words “Love in Bloom” carved in delicate strokes. Hoseok must have finished it at last, and you can’t help the way your cheeks warm when you remember the way he’d misinterpreted your relationship with Taehyung. It looks like your girlfriend likes it too. Hoseok’s voice echoes in your mind, reverberating like a tolling bell. Something shifts in the pit of your belly, warm and effervescent.

Shaking your head, you dismiss the odd sensation and open up your phone’s keyboard to respond. How could I forget? you type. Tell him it looks wonderful!

[11:08am] Taehyung: you should drop by and tell him yourself! he’ll be around for the rest of the day, helping set up the new exhibit with some of his other work

[11:09am] You: How about a raincheck? I’ll come see it after the holidays, I promise

[11:10am] Taehyung: i’m holding you to that :)

Time flies by as you continue chatting with Taehyung, and before you know it, the sun is beginning to sink toward the horizon. Saying your goodbyes, you shut down your computer and shrug on your coat, offering your colleagues well wishes and waves goodbye as you step outside into the cool wintry air.

Your commute home is short. The sight of your apartment building is a welcome relief, and you want nothing more than to collapse in bed as soon as you cross the threshold. But when you exit the elevator onto your floor, you are met with an unexpected surprise. A familiar figure is leaning against the wall, his dark wool coat a stark contrast to the beige walls of the hallway. His head is lowered as he scrolls purposefully through his phone, black hair flopping over his forehead, but you know his partially obscured face almost better than you know your own. “J-Jungkook?” you ask, your voice coming out in a shaky warble as you take in the sight of your boyfriend. “What… what are you doing here?”

Jungkook straightens up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and raising the white plastic bag in his free hand, the distinctive logo of your favorite takeout place outlined in bright colors. “I brought dinner,” he begins, brown eyes tentatively flickering up to meet yours. “I thought you might be hungry. Can I… can I come in?”

Slowly, you take a step closer to the dark-haired man. “How long have you been here?”

“Not too long.” He checks his watch. “Ten minutes, maybe? I came straight from work.”

“Mm. I figured as much. I’m surprised you left the office earlier than I did.”

Jungkook huffs out a noise that’s caught somewhere between a dry chuckle and a sigh. “Yeah.” Then he pauses, fiddling with the handles of the bag still dangling from his wrist. “So, uh. Can I come in?”

You hesitate. Jungkook fidgets with the edge of his sleeve, and immediately, your eyes are drawn to the movement. Your gaze rakes across him, taking in the ruffled state of his hair, no doubt from all the times he’s raked his hand through it. You notice just how wrinkled his suit lapels are, and the crooked knot of his tie.

And then you step past him and pull out your keys. “Yeah. Sure.”

It only takes a few seconds to unlock the front door of your apartment, stepping inside with Jungkook on your heels. He follows your lead as you hang up your coat and trudges after you into the kitchen, grabbing some plates from the cabinet while you fetch two glasses of water and hand him one. He takes a long sip before beginning to unbox the takeout, and, silently, you join him at the counter to help spoon some orange chicken onto a plate. The two of you work in silence for several minutes, broken only by the rattle of silverware.

“I feel like I’m losing you,” Jungkook suddenly blurts, dropping the box he’s holding with a thump and turning to face you. He hesitates for a few seconds, gnawing on his bottom lip before his eyes flicker up to meet yours again. “I just… I’ve really missed you, {Name}. This past week has been hard—and I know a lot of that’s my fault. But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t think I could bear losing you.” Gently, he reaches out, grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together.

There’s something glimmering in his expression, something soft and affectionate that sets your heart aflutter. Jungkook’s hand is warm and solid around yours, and the pressure is so familiar and comforting that it takes you a few seconds to gather your thoughts enough to respond. “I—I’ve missed you too,” you confess after a moment’s hesitation. “But I texted you. I called you. And you didn’t answer.”

“I know,” he says, whisper-soft. “I’m sorry.”

His thumb is stroking along the ridges of your knuckles now, the motion tender and soothing in its repetition. Swallowing, you tamp down the urge to step closer and let his hands circle your waist. Instead, you ask a question—one that has been on your mind for days now.

“Why?”

There are a multitude of questions hiding behind that singular word, of course. Why didn’t you reply to my texts or return my calls? Why wouldn’t you listen to me that night when I told you about Taehyung? Why are you here now? And Jungkook must sense the hidden depths in your question, because he doesn’t respond straight away. Rather, he tugs you toward your living room, settling onto the couch and pulling you down beside him. Once you’ve both gotten comfortable—or at least as comfortable as you can get while waiting for his answer—he finally speaks, sucking in a deep breath first and exhaling the words in a rush.

“I’m sorry” he repeats, his eyes darting between your twined hands and your face, as if gauging your expression. “I should’ve called you sooner. I—I shouldn’t have hung up on you that night. I just—” Jungkook heaves a sigh, his shoulders slumping forward. “I overreacted. I’ve been a real asshole, and I’m sorry. But... I think we can make this work, {Name}. I want to make this work.”

The earnestness shimmering in his gaze makes your heart clench, and when you give his hand a soft squeeze, the smile that blooms across his face is positively radiant.

“Can you forgive me?” he asks hopefully.

You let your gaze rake over his face again—taking in his strong brows and prominent nose and the soft curl of his lips. A lock of dark hair flops over his forehead lazily, and you resist the urge to brush it away for all of three seconds before giving in. “You owe me a weeks’ worth of dates,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice stern as you sweep his hair out of his eyes.

“Two,” he breathes back, leaning into your touch. “Or three. However many you want.”

You smile. “And you have to be extra nice to my parents tomorrow.”

That draws a soft chuckle from him. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of being anything but.”

“Then that’s a good start.” Delicately, you let your fingers smooth across the sharp line of his jaw. He nestles his cheek into your palm, and when he turns to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, a delighted shiver runs down the length of your spine.

You’ve missed him—there’s no doubt in your mind about that. Jungkook has been a constant presence in your life for the past year, and his company—when you have it—is solid and reassuring. After countless dates and quiet, intimate evenings, you know him almost as well as you know yourself. And whenever doubts about your relationship rise up in your chest, he always manages to sweep them away with a few words or a sweet embrace.

Jungkook is in the process of laying three more kisses along the inside of your arm, soft lips moving up to the crook of your elbow before he pulls back and glances up at you. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice dipping in pitch.

Your fingers are still twined with his, so instead of answering, you simply give his hand another squeeze. Jungkook’s face melts into a toothy grin, and he doesn’t waste any more time as he cups your cheek and brings you in for a long, lingering kiss.

You’re breathless by the time you pull apart again, lungs fighting for lost air. But Jungkook is still grinning, prominent teeth on full display, and you can’t help but smile back at the sight. His fingers smooth from your cheek down to the line of your jaw, caressing the skin there before sliding around to the back of your neck and bringing you in for another kiss. His mouth slants across yours, and when his tongue darts out to swipe at the seam of your lips, you let out a breathy sigh and let him in.

It isn’t long before you find yourself pressed into the cushions of your couch, a smirking Jungkook hovering above you with one hand on either side of your head. Leaning down, he nips at the sensitive spot on your neck, teeth digging a bruise into the skin just above your clavicle before soothing it with his hot tongue. Nimble fingers find their way to the buttons of your blouse, sliding them free and running across the newly exposed skin in slow, ardent caresses. His thumbs hook beneath the cups of your bra to find the sensitive peaks of your breasts, squeezing at the soft flesh.

When you arch up into him—seeking more contact—Jungkook lets out a hoarse chuckle. “So pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss just above your bellybutton. You sigh at the feeling of his lips against your skin, and when he straightens up again, you take the opportunity to push his suit jacket off his shoulders. He shrugs it off the rest of the way, tossing it over the back of the couch carelessly, and you set to work on his tie. The silky material slips easily between your fingers, and when you loosen it enough, he grabs your wrist to help wrench it over his head.

Just as you are about to undo the first button of his white shirt, there is a knock on the door. Jungkook raises a questioning brow, and you shrug, equally taken aback.

“I’ll get it,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth and running a quick hand through his hair as he stands. “Be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

You hum in assent, sitting up from the couch and straightening out your rumpled blouse. Jungkook disappears down the hallway, and you listen as he opens up the front door and greets whoever is standing there.

The voice that responds is deep and resonant and devastatingly familiar, and the sound of it sends you flying up and off the couch. Hurriedly, you fix your clothes as you tiptoe toward the hall, peering carefully around the corner. You can just barely make out a head of coppery hair behind Jungkook’s frame silhouetted in the open doorway, and when your visitor speaks again, your suspicions are all but confirmed.

“Sorry if I have the wrong apartment. Do you happen to know where a Miss {Full Name} lives?”

“If you’re looking for {Name}, you’ve got the right place,” Jungkook replies, shifting slightly so that you finally get a glimpse of the man standing on your welcome mat. Taehyung—because of course it’s Taehyung—looks incredibly out of place in the rather drab hallway of your building. He’s wearing an undoubtedly expensive tailored coat and a silky floral shirt tucked neatly into loose black slacks, and the sight of him is enough to knock all the air out of your lungs and send you reeling. Quickly, you take several steps back into the safety of your living room, ensuring that you can still listen to the conversation. “Are you a friend of hers?” you hear Jungkook ask.

“Oh! Yes, I am—I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Taehyung. And you are...?”

“Jungkook,” Jungkook says tersely. A beat of silence follows, and you can’t even begin to imagine what is going through both men’s minds as they digest this new information.

After what seems like an eternity, Taehyung clears his throat. “I just wanted to stop by,” he explains, and you hear the rustle of a paper bag as he shifts uncomfortably. “{Name} mentioned that she had a bit of a rough day, so I brought over some pastries from the bakery down the street.”

“I’ll see that she gets th—” Jungkook begins to say, but you choose that moment to walk over, slipping easily around Jungkook and making your presence known.

“Taehyung?” you ask, as if you haven’t been listening in on the conversation the whole time. “I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing here?”

Said man smiles at your appearance, raising the paper bag in his hand. “Hey, {Name}. I wanted to… uh...” He trails off as he takes in your appearance for the first time—the mussed hair and rumpled clothing no doubt giving away your activities prior to his arrival. When you glance down, self-conscious, you notice that your buttons aren’t even correctly aligned. And when you chance a look at Jungkook, you immediately notice his lopsided collar as well. Nevertheless, Taehyung takes a deep breath and bravely forges on. “When you mentioned that you had a bad day earlier, I thought I’d bring over some of those custard tarts you like. Sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure, subtly trying to fix your hair though you suspect your efforts are in vain. “Thank you for thinking of me; you really didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

Taehyung shrugs halfheartedly, gaze flickering briefly over to Jungkook, who is still hovering behind you. “It’s no trouble at all,” he says with a weak smile, handing the paper bag over. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Have... have a good night. And happy holidays—to both of you.”

“Happy holidays,” you echo. And something inside your chest constricts painfully when Taehyung offers you one last tiny smile before turning on his heel and heading for the elevators. Almost reluctantly, you shut the door behind him, paper bag swinging from one hand as you turn to look at Jungkook. There’s some emotion that you can’t quite place simmering in his dark eyes, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows. You wait, patiently, for him to speak.

“So that’s Taehyung,” he manages at last, his voice tight. “The guy you were with at the market.”

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. “Yeah.”

Jungkook fiddles with the hem of his white button-up, which has long since freed itself from his waistband. “You didn’t mention that he’s good-looking.”

“Jungkook,” you begin in a placating tone, dropping the bag and taking a step closer to him. “Stop, please, we’re just friends—”

“Maybe so,” Jungkook snaps, forehead wrinkling as his brows furrow. “But I’m not an idiot, {Name}, I saw the way he looked at you. He wants more than your friendship—are you fucking blind?”

Your eyes narrow. “Don’t speak to me like that, Jungkook.”

“Or maybe you do see it,” the dark-haired man continues, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. “Maybe you see it, and you want him too. Hell, I’m at the office all the time anyway, so you may as well live it up with this Taehyung guy, right? Christ.” He rakes a hand through his hair, a humorless smile twitching his lips upward. “Maybe I should’ve seen this coming.”

He’s really getting angry now. You can see the hard set of his jaw and the way his hands are balled up into fists, and when you look at his face, you almost flinch back at the intensity of his gaze. “This… this is insane,” you say weakly, discomfort squirming in the pit of your stomach. “He’s just a friend, and we’ve only met up a few times—”

“A few times,” Jungkook echoes, barking out a wry laugh. “Like I’m going to believe that.”

“I don’t care what you believe!” you cry, surprising both yourself and Jungkook. He jerks back at your outburst, eyes widening, but you are too far gone to stop. It’s as if an invisible barrier has crumbled down, releasing all the irritation that’s been building, potent and heavy, in your chest.

“{Name},” Jungkook tries to say, but you interrupt, your index finger jabbing him none too gently in the chest.

“No, you listen!” you demand. Your voice is too loud, even to your ears, but you press on nonetheless. “I’ve only seen Taehyung four times, you know that? And that includes the first time we met! Not to mention that we never would’ve actually met if you hadn’t stood me up that night at Luxe. Do you even know how long it’s been since we’ve gone on a date?”

“{Name},” Jungkook tries again, a bit louder this time. His fingers close around your wrist, tugging your hand away from his chest, but you wrench away and continue your rant.

“Almost a month and a half! It’s been five weeks, Jungkook, and you almost never call or text me back! Do you know how frustrating that is? I mean, god, it’s like I don’t even have a boyfriend sometimes. Am I just supposed to just wait around for you and mope at home—”

Your tirade is abruptly cut off by two strong hands clamping down on your shoulders, the force enough to send you stumbling back against the closed front door. All the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jungkook stands before you, face contorted, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as his wild eyes rove across your face. “Stop,” he pants, dark hair falling across his forehead as he presses against you a little harder. “Just… stop.” Your head hits the hard wooden surface behind you, tearing a startled gasp from your throat.

“Jungkook,” you warble, your voice weakening as you try to wriggle free from his ironclad grip. Your shoulders are beginning to ache underneath his fingertips, and, you wonder vaguely if the skin will bruise. “Jungkook, you’re hurting me.”

There is a beat of silence. Then, Jungkook seems to deflate, his arms falling uselessly to his sides as he takes a long step back. “Shit,” he mumbles, distress crumpling his face. “Shit, {Name}. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I-I’m sorry too,” you whisper, straightening up and rubbing at your tender shoulders. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

“You shouldn’t have lost your temper?” Jungkook lets out a disbelieving huff. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. And I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that—Christ, I can’t believe—” Trailing off, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damn it. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Do you want me to get the first-aid kit from under the sink?”

You stop him with a hand on his forearm. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jungkook doesn’t look convinced, but stops nonetheless. He glances down at the spot where your fingers are still wrapped around his arm, and for a few moments, everything is perfectly still and silent. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat in his wrist—strong and steady. A constant, just like he’s been for so long in your life. But maybe it’s time for that to change.

Slowly, you let go—uncurling your fingers one at a time until both of your arms are at your sides once more. “This isn’t working, is it.” It isn’t a question, and, after a few long seconds, Jungkook lets out another sigh. 

“No, I guess it’s not,” he says, and it’s as if an implicit understanding passes between the two of you in that moment.  It’s over. The thought is terrifying, and for a moment you almost want to take it back and throw yourself into the safety of his arms again.

But you don’t move a muscle, and Jungkook does. Silently, you follow him as he turns on his heel and heads back for your living room. You watch as he gathers up his discarded tie and jacket, shoving the first into his pocket and donning the latter. “I wish things could be different,” you murmur, so soft that you almost think he doesn’t hear you. You’re not sure you even wanted him to, but Jungkook’s ears have always been sharp.

“Me too,” he says. He doesn’t turn around from where he’s stopped to stare out the window, gaze riveted on the artificially lit cityscape blanketed by night sky. “I really didn’t… I didn’t think we’d end like this.”

“Bad timing,” you remark, drawing a sardonic chuckle from him.

“The worst.”

You nod. Quietly, you join him at the window, admiring the warm glow of the streetlamps far below. Off in the distance, you can see the train station, lit up like a beacon. Tomorrow, you’ll be heading there to catch a train back home, but you didn’t think you’d be going alone. The thought brings a fresh wave of sadness, one that’s only worsened when Jungkook speaks again.

“I still love you, you know,” he murmurs. “Not enough, maybe. But I do.”

Tears prick your eyes at the raw honesty in his voice. “I know. I love you too. But... we aren’t happy together, Jungkook. We haven’t been happy in a long time.”

He hums, and when you cast a look his way, you see that his eyes have fluttered shut. “I’m sorry,” he says simply, and you pretend not to notice the glistening wetness on his lashes. Instead, you slip your hand into his, the warmth of it as familiar and comforting as ever.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” you tell him gently, and Jungkook nods, opening his eyes and letting you lead him back to the entryway.

“Guess this means we won’t be moving in together anytime soon.” The joke is feeble and halfhearted, but you smile nonetheless as he opens up the front door, pausing on the threshold. You wonder if he’s remembering all the memories you’ve made together over the past year—both the good and the bad times that have made up the course of your relationship.

“I’m going to miss you,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. Some endings, no matter how inevitable, are never easy. Your heart already aches, and when he pulls his hand out of yours, it splinters even more.

“Me too,” Jungkook murmurs. His gaze rakes over your face one last time, as if committing it to memory. “Goodbye, {Name}.”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself standing in the doorway, watching someone important to you walk away.

Now, you are truly all alone.

[previous][next]

[shawnpetermuffins]

03.31

March Mendes Madness

Writing prompt #31 How they first met

A/n: since this is the last one for a while, I thought I'd make it longer! Enjoy reading my loves!

***

"Dad?" My six-year-old daughter says while I scoop her some ice cream after school.

"What's up, munchkin?" I place the small bowl in front of her and suck the small drip of ice cream from my thumb, throwing the scooper in the sink.

"When did you meet momma?"

I smile because I'd been waiting for the day my kids ask me that exact question. But now I'm wishing Skyler was here to listen too. He's with my mom and dad, y/n should actually be picking him up right about now.

But I rest my elbows against the counter anyway, despite not having Skyler here, and start telling Madi the story of how I met y/n.

"Well..."

I'm walking around with Brian and Matt, trying to find this bookstore that has a new collectors edition of some book Aaliyah wants for her birthday. After minutes of aimless searching, we finally find it sandwiched between this old timey malt shop and women's boutique. The bell above the door rings when we walk in, but there's no one at the counter, or anywhere in here, that I can see. I check the sign on the door to make sure they are, in fact, open. They are. I shrug and the guys go off on their own, looking around.

I don't know where to start looking, so I just plant myself in front of the closest fiction section and scan shelf after shelf. When five minutes have passed and I still can't find it, I go in search of an employee. I find one a few aisles down, but stop short when I get to them. Their back is turned to me, hair flowing down their back, wearing some tight skinny jeans and what seems to be just a plain grey t-shirt. I'm watching as she reads the synopsis of each book before stacking it on the shelf. I clear my throat, startling her, and she turns to face me.

With a book still in her hand, she smiles, "Sorry, guess I was a little occupied. Can I help you find something?"

Her voice. God, it's angelic. And I know I'm for sure staring at her low cut v-neck.

"Sir?" She tries again, pulling me from trance and I finally am able to get a good look at her face. She's beautiful in every possible way.

"Sorry, yes." I clear my throat again, taking my phone from my pocket. "I'm trying to find this book for my sister. When I looked it up, it said you have it here. Is it still in stock?" I don't know how the words are flowing out of my mouth so easily, but I thank God that they do. She standing close to me, looking at the screenshot on my phone and I take in her scent. Warm vanilla. It's intoxicating.

"We should have it up here, if not we might still have some in the back that we haven't unboxed yet. Follow me."

I swallow thickly as I follow her up to the front, heading the opposite way in which I started searching.

"Oh, right here!" She squats down and pulls it from one of the lower shelves. "There you are."

My breath catches when our fingers brush as she hands me the book. "Th-thanks," I stutter, cursing myself for thinking I'd be able to talk to a pretty girl so effortlessly.

"No problem. Is that all you're looking for?" She slides her hands into her back pocket.

"I uh, I think so. I'm not - not really sure what to get her."

She nods, "How old is she?"

"Turning seventeen."

She chews at her bottom lip. "Does she like romance novels?"

I nod, "Yeah. She, she definitely likes those."

She smiles brightly at me, "I think I few that she might like. Can I show you?"

"Please," I gesture for her to walk in front of me.

"Oh," she stops midway between shelves and faces me. "I'm y/n, by the way," she says, holding her hand out for me to shake.

"Y/n," I repeat. "That's beautiful." I take her small hand in my large one, "Its nice to meet you," I say, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "I'm Shawn."

She nods, "I've heard some of your music," she says casually, turning back to walk. "You're really good."

"So you've heard of me," I kind of deflate. I was hoping I met someone who didn't know who I was.

"Well you're kind of famous," she teases with a bright smile. It's crazy how at ease she's making me. She's not thrown by the fact I am who I am. She's not freaking out or asking for a picture, she's treating me like I'm just Shawn and that's- that's something else.

A few books later I'm at the register with her, book in a bag and paid for. We're just talking, laughing and completely enjoying ourselves when to hands clap my shoulders. I jump and she giggles.

"Find what you need, Shawny boy?" Matt ruffles my hair and I plea a silent apology to y/n, who's still smiling at me.

"Yeah, you guys find anything?"

Matt nods, "I did."

I move to the side, allowing him to pay. "This was a good choice," she says to him, ringing up the book.

"You've read it?"

"I've read the whole series. It's one of my favorites."

"And who, pretty lady, might you be?" Brian asks, making his way beside Matt.

She laughs, but not unkindly, and holds her hand out for him. "Y/n."

"I'm Brian. This is Matt," he tilts his head to the side. "And I guess you've already met Shawn."

"I have," she takes her hand back and pushes her hair from her face.

"It's nice to meet all of you. I hope you'll come back and see us. I promise to not be the only one working, next time." She jokes.

"Oh, we'll come back." Brian winks at her and I roll my eyes, irritated with how forward my friend is being.

She brushes it off, though. "Have a nice day." And to me she says, "let me know how your sister likes those books."

I nod once, "I definitely will. Thank you for your help."

"Not a problem."

The boys are out the door when I turn back around. "Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I call you sometime?"

Her smile lights up my world. "Check your receipt."

I dig in the bag to find it and see her number scrawled on the bottom with a little smiley face. "I'll call you later," I promise.

"I look forward to it."

"Uncle Brian tried to hit on Momma?!"

I laugh at her outburst. "Yeah, he did."

"I'm gonna have a talk with him."

I shake my head, "Okay, munchkin. Whatever you want." I look up when I hear the front door open and close.

"Bubba?"

"In the kitchen," I say. I squat down when I see my son running to me. "Hey, little man. You have fun with grandma and grandpa today?"

He answers enthusiastically and I stand up, adjusting him on my hip, to see my wife of ten years walk into the room and place a soft kiss on our daughter's head.

"Ice cream before dinner?" She scolds me and I smile sheepishly.

"Sorry, baby." I make my way over to her and press a kiss to her lips. "How was the store?"

"Oh, you know," she traces my jaw with her finger. "Sold some books, shelved some books. The usual."

I hum, "You need help with dinner?" I ask against her lips.

"Mhm," she kisses me again. "But I'm gonna change first."

***

A/n: I can't believe that the month is over! This has been the most fun I have ever had writing and I hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[hanscom]

💙+ Timer

Twenty two days. Six hours. Forty three minutes. Nine seconds.

Twenty two days. Six hours. Forty three minutes. Eight seconds.

Twenty two days. Six hours. Forty three minutes. Seven seconds.

“Mr. Kaspbrak!”

Eddie jumps. He jerks straight up in his seat, then slumps down again when he realizes everyone is staring at him. Mrs. Hawkins is leading the charge, peering down her beakish nose at him, her eyes small and shrewd. “Do you plan to pay attention to my lesson?” she demands. “Or do I have to take away your watch?”

Eddie automatically covers his watch with his hand, shielding the face from view. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hawkins,” he mutters dutifully. He keeps his watch protectively hidden until she looks away, and even then he puts his hands in his lap, under the table, out of sight.

He can’t resist giving the clock mounted on the wall above her head one last, fervent glance.

Twenty two days. Six hours. Forty one minutes. Thirty six seconds.

–

Watches are government-issued. Everyone is assigned one at birth, but you’re not eligible to obtain it until you’re at least thirteen. It’s one of those weird, arbitrary American laws, like how you can join the military at eighteen but can’t have a beer until you’re twenty one. No one really knows why it’s that way. Maybe the government doesn’t want you to spend your formative years pining for something that might not happen for years. That would make sense. Eddie got his watch on his fifteenth birthday and he’s only been waiting a year, but sometimes it already feels like it’s been a thousand.

He was the second one of his friends to get one, and the fourth overall. Bill got his first, the leader as always, on his thirteenth birthday. Twelve years, his watch had said, so far off it hadn’t even said anything about months or days or seconds. It had been disappointing in some strange way, because twelve years felt like an entire lifetime, but it was also thrilling to know that it was real, that someone was out there waiting and wanting.

He hadn’t missed the way Bill had looked the slightest bit jealous, though, when he had unboxed his own watch and his timer had only said one year, seven months, sixteen days.

And then Bev had gotten hers, and the timer had already been zeroed out. She and Ben had shared a shy, private glance, and the rest of them had quickly figured it out. Bev had kissed Ben. Ben was Bev’s soulmate. It had all been confirmed when Ben had gotten his own blank watch two weeks later.

That’s how it works. The timer isn’t counting down the minutes until you meet your soulmate. That would be too easy. No, the timer ticks down and down and down, and when it finally, finally clicks to zero, you’re kissing the person you’re meant to be with. True love’s kiss, right? Eddie personally thinks the government has watched too many Disney movies, but he still stares at the face of his watch more often than not, counting down the seconds.

He has no idea who his soulmate might be. Probably someone from Derry, given that he only has a few weeks left to wait. It could be anyone. Not Bill, of course, and certainly not Ben, but maybe one of the other Losers. Maybe Stan, or Mike. Maybe Richie.

Eddie doesn’t allow himself to hope. But…

It’s not altogether that likely that it’s one of his friends. There are plenty of people who don’t have soulmates yet. Many of them don’t even have their watch. It’s expensive to get one. A lot of people can’t afford it, like Stan and Mike.

And some people just aren’t interested. Like Richie. “I don’t need a stupid watch to tell me I enjoyed a kiss,” he says whenever he’s asked. “My dick can tell just fine.” He’ll grab his crotch and say, “It’s never steered me wrong before.” And then the conversation will end, because everyone knows Richie is relentless about dick jokes and it’s best if they stop it before it really starts.

Eddie wonders, sometimes, if Richie really has kissed anyone before, the way he claims he has. Does he press his mouth against theirs, hoping their watch would zero out and start to beep? Or does he really not care?

Eddie can’t imagine not caring. He cares a whole fucking lot.

–

Those last twenty two days don’t pass quickly, but they do eventually pass.

One hour. Twenty six minutes. Thirteen seconds.

He’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror, fucking with his hair. There’s a party tonight. Eddie isn’t normally much of a party-goer, but this is it. This is the night. His soulmate is going to be at that party, and Eddie is going to be kissed by him. The thought makes goosebumps rise all up and down his arms. He’s so excited he’s shaking.

Richie’s supposed to pick him up. Well, actually, Bill was supposed to be their designated driver, but his car is a piece of shit and no one trusts the chhht-chhht-chhht sound it makes, so Ben is stuffing Bev and Bill and Mike and Stan in his tiny two-door sedan. Richie, who just crested six-foot with no signs of stopping, and Eddie, who can’t stand to breathe in the shared air of that many people, elected to drive themselves. Well, Eddie elected to make Richie drive. He doesn’t have his own car. Richie’s truck is a piece of junk, but he’s slowly fixing her up with the money he didn’t spend on a watch. Eddie’s been helping him. He’s kind of proud of the progress they’ve made. Her brakes don’t even squeak that bad anymore, and she’s only rusted in a few small places.

Still, Eddie can hear her from a block away, rumbling down his street. He rushes down the stairs, calls goodbye to his mother, and books it to the end of the driveway before she can catch him. He didn’t exactly get her permission to go out, but she probably won’t be too mad as long as he gets home before curfew.

He flings himself into the passenger side and Richie slams on the accelerator before he’s even fully inside, like he’s afraid they’re being chased. As if Eddie’s mother could peel herself out of her armchair that fast. Still, it’s sort of exhilarating. The driver’s side window is down and the wind whips the hair that Eddie spent so long perfecting, but it’s worth it because Richie has his music turned up way too high and he smiles over at Eddie and the minutes on Eddie’s watch are ticking down and Eddie feels alive.

The party is at Sheridan Keener’s house in the good part of town, and the streets are already lined with cars. Richie eases his truck in behind an ugly brownish-orange Toyota that Eddie sort of recognizes from the student lot. He cuts the engine, and though faint music pulses from the Keener house, it’s suddenly very quiet without Richie’s music blasting.

“Well,” Richie says, and he fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. It’s a little crumpled but it lights up just fine. “Tonight’s the night.” He looks at Eddie’s watch out of the corner of his eye.

Hope it’s not you if you’re gonna taste like ash, Eddie wants to say, but he doesn’t. It’s a bad joke. Instead, he hums an agreement and gets out of the car. They walk together to the door, and then Richie tosses his cigarette into the shrubbery and Eddie lets him into the house and they’re swept into the foyer, greeted by throbbing music and the sharp smell of alcohol and the dim buzz of a hundred different conversations.

They get separated at some point, but Eddie tries not to notice. He waves at Ben from across the room, who points at his wrist and then gives Eddie a thumbs-up. He’s not the only one who’s been counting down. His friends are all excited for him. He wonders if they feel nauseous at all, the way he does.

After awhile, he goes into the kitchen to make a drink. A few people are standing around, including a cute boy standing alone in the corner, sipping from a solo cup. Eddie’s heart stops, then starts pounding. That’s him.

But, no. It’s too early. He still has thirty-four minutes.

Then again, it’s not like Eddie was going to just walk up and plant one on him. Maybe he’s supposed to start a conversation. Maybe it’ll go well, and they’ll end up in some private room upstairs, leaning closer and closer, their lips about to brush…

A girl comes into the kitchen. The boy looks up, sees her, and smiles. He’s even more handsome when he smiles, but Eddie has to look away when he drags the girl in for a kiss.

Not him, then.

It’s awful at first, and then it’s downright agonizing. He keeps looking around the room, trying to determine which of these people might be the person his soul was made for. Nobody stands out in particular. The only people Eddie really notices are his friends. Stan is on the couch, holding Bev’s drink so she can arm-wrestle Mike over the coffee table. He lets her win, and they all laugh about it. Eddie is smiling to himself when Richie suddenly appears at his elbow.

“Having fun?” he asks, leaning close to be heard over the music.

“Sure,” Eddie says, noncommittal. He hasn’t talked to a single person. Seventeen minutes. He’s starting to get nervous.

Richie elbows him gently. “Stop thinking so hard,” he says. “Just let it happen.”

Like Eddie has any other choice. The clock is ticking down, whether he wants it to or not.

Richie rolls his eyes, apparently not satisfied by whatever expression is on Eddie’s face. “Come on,” he says, and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Let’s find something to take your mind off it.”

“Good luck,” Eddie mutters, but he goes where Richie leads him, same way he always does.

They end up in the basement, which is an entirely different atmosphere than the living room. It’s quiet down here, and hazy. This is where all the stoners go to toke, Eddie realizes, and he almost turns right back around but, well. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would certainly calm his nerves.

But Richie doesn’t pull out a joint like Eddie expects. Instead, he guides Eddie into the middle of the room, where a loose circle of people have gathered. Eddie recognizes some of them, but most of them are strangers. Richie sits down like he owns the place, though, his sprawling legs taking up too much room. Eddie sits across from him, leaving enough space in middle of the lazy circle for the small glass bottle sitting there.

Just as Eddie settles in, a pretty blonde girl reaches out and spins it. It whirls around several times, making a horrible racket against the concrete floor, but then finally starts to settle. It eventually stops, the neck pointed at a black-haired boy, his eyes so heavy they almost look closed. He perks up a little when the girl climbs into his lap, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

Eddie realizes all at once what’s going on.

He glares at Richie. Richie smirks back. Of course he does. He’s an asshole.

Eddie should leave. He should get up and walk out. His first kiss shouldn’t be like this, because of some stupid game with a bunch of strangers that stink like pot. But…

Well, his soulmate is probably in this circle. That’s why he’s here, right? He’s going to spin the bottle, and it’s going to land on someone, and they’re going to kiss, and his watch is going to start beeping.

He glances at it. Nine minutes. His heart pounds.

The black-haired boy spins the bottle, and it lands on a redhead Eddie recognizes from his history class. She wipes her mouth after the boy kisses her, then spins for herself. The bottle points at a brunette girl and both of them giggle before they kiss each other on the cheek. Then the brunette spins and it lands on a boy wearing a backwards baseball cap.

It goes like this for some time. Eddie pretends to watch the game, but for the most part, he stares at his watch. Six minutes. Five minutes. Four minutes.

The pretty blonde who started the game kisses one of the other girls. The boys cheer for them, and the blonde draws away looking satisfied by the attention. She spins, and then the bottle lands on Richie.

Eddie stops staring at his watch.

She smiles at Richie, and he grins back at her. She scoots close to him and leans in, her hair falling almost like a curtain around their faces, but Eddie can just make out the way Richie dodges at the last second and kisses her cheek instead. Something unravels in his chest. He doesn’t know why it matters, but somehow, it does.

Richie spins and lands on Evan, a guy from Eddie’s homeroom. Richie grins, hooks his arm around Evan’s neck, and drags him in so he can plant a sloppy kiss on Evan’s forehead. Evan shoves him away, but he’s laughing about it.

Then he takes the bottle in his hand and spins it.

It lands on Eddie.

Eddie’s heart stops. He doesn’t have to look at his watch to know there’s only a couple minutes left. Is this it? Is Evan his soulmate? He tries to picture it, but for some reason, he can’t. It’s probably because he’s said maybe six words to Evan all year. Will that change, once they’ve kissed? It will have to, right? You have to be able to talk to your soulmate. What’s the point, otherwise?

But then Evan leans forward, quickly kisses Eddie’s cheek, and falls back into his place in the circle.

Eddie’s watch doesn’t beep. He glances at it.

One minute.

This is it. Holy shit, this is it.

He reaches out with a shaking hand. Should he spin it hard, or soft? Should he try to time it right, or should he just close his eyes and hope for the best?

Should he just get up and run out before everything has a chance to change?

He spins. His eyes, without his own permission, jam closed. His stomach swoops, and his chest is tight. His mouth dries out. He can’t decide if he’s going to throw up or if he’s going to pass out. Either seems entirely likely.

The bottle slowly comes to a stop.

Eddie opens his eyes.

For a disconcerting second, he’s confused. The bottle is pointed at himself. Except… no. No it’s not. That’s the bottom of it. The top is aimed in the opposite direction, directly in front of him, at… at…

“It’s you,” Eddie realizes.

Richie, sitting across from him, looks just as surprised. His eyes are wide, made all the more huge by his glasses. But then, slowly, he smiles. “Come on, Eds,” he says, and he gets up onto his knees, shuffling forward across the circle so he’s in Eddie’s personal space. Richie looms over him, smelling like cologne and cigarettes and some of the best memories of Eddie’s life. “You don’t wanna keep fate waitin’, do you?”

And then he puts his hand on Eddie’s chin, tilts his face up, and leans down to kiss him. It’s a shallow kiss, dry and chaste, and it only lasts for a handful of seconds.

Just long enough for Eddie’s watch to zero out and start to beep.

[beanfic]

Chapter 7

Word Count: 1300

Warnings: none!

Author’s note: I really like this chapter, so I hope you do too! :)

“Y/N, wake up,” Tyler whispered into your ear. You turned over in your sheets to face Tyler who was smiling, waiting for you to wake up.

“Goodmorning, Ty.” You closed your eyes and stretched your arms to try to relieve the stiffness from a good night’s rest. Tyler wrapped his arms around your body and nestled his chin into the crook of your neck.

“Today’s moving day!”

“I know Ty! We’ve been waiting for this day for a week now,” you giggled while his chin hair tickled your neck.

Ever since you found out that your family had to move, you had been packing like crazy, with the help of your family and Josh. Everything was in boxes except for the necessities.

“I don’t know how we are supposed to fit everything in two moving vans,” Tyler mentioned.

“We have the car too! You drive one van, Josh drives the other, and then I drive the car!”

“You’re smart,” Tyler kissed you quickly before getting out of bed.

“That’s why you married me,” you gave him a wink as he headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

The next three hours were a rush. You got up and showered, and then had to get the kids up. Josh came over, and he and Tyler moved all the boxes and furniture into the vans. You had to help the kids and get them fed before getting on the road.

“Is everyone ready?” You turned around from the driver’s seat in your car to see Autumn and Westley in his carrier. Connor went with Tyler in the van, partly because Tyler needed someone to keep him awake on the long car ride, and partly because Connor had been in a grumpy mood all morning.

“I have to pee!” Autumn announced.

“We haven’t even left the house yet,” you sighed. You allowed her to go inside and go to the bathroom, and then you set out on the three-hour car ride to the next province over.

After many bathroom stops and food stops, you eventually made it to the gate of the Province. It would have been an easier car ride if you could listen to music, but since the ban, car rides were spent with casual conversation. That would have been fine if Autumn and Westley didn’t sleep for more than half of the trip. You had to keep yourself busy by analyzing everything you saw as you drove.

You followed Tyler and Josh until you all arrived at the front of this two-story house. It had four bedrooms which meant that Westley and Autumn were going to share a room because Josh was also staying with you guys. Connor would get his own room so he could focus on his homework.

“We’re here!” You pulled into the driveway and woke up Autumn and Westley.

“This house is pretty!” Autumn gawked out the window. You could see the excitement forming in her face, and you only hoped Connor could be excited too.

It took about three hours for everyone to move all the furniture and boxes inside the house. You helped Autumn set up her and Westley’s room, and Connor was independent enough to set up his room. Josh and Tyler worked on unboxing the kitchen and Josh’s bedroom.

“Our house is actually coming along well!” Tyler wiped his sweat from his head and draped his arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, it is! I’m surprised how much we got done.”

“It’s because I’m here!” Josh teased.

“Sure it is, bud.” Tyler gave Josh a little shove, starting a full-on play fight.

“Is this what I am going to have to deal with now that you are living here, Josh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. Better get used to it.” Josh said, who was busy pinning Tyler to the ground.

“I give up!” Tyler squeaked.

“We should probably get going.” Josh looked at his watch.

“Where are you guys going?” you asked with a confused look.

“Oh, we are going to go meet the Banditos of this province!” Tyler exclaimed.

“There are banditos here?”

“Yeah, I guess the news of banditos have spread, and they all formed their own little Trenches everywhere. Ty and I are going to go see what this Trench looks like and do our first performance for them!” Josh clapped his hands together with excitement.

“That’s so awesome!” you give each Josh and Tyler a hug before they headed out.

-------------

Tyler and Josh finally found the entrance to this new trench, except instead of a rock for the opening, it was a wooden door.

“This is it,” Tyler places his hands on his lips, looking around.

“They told us to knock,” Josh reminded him. Josh knocked four times before they heard a small, raspy voice on the other side.

“Password?” The voice said.

“Sahlo Folina.” Tyler was told the password that the Bandito’s had made for safety, and it was his first time using it. They heard the door unlock and it opened up.

“Oh my gosh it is you!” said a boy who looked about fifteen or sixteen. He was wearing a yellow beanie and his outfit was covered with yellow tape as well.

“Hey I’m Tyler, and this is Josh!”

“We know!! We all know who you are obviously, you’re the creator that got revoked his job. You’re the one and only Tyler Joseph!” The boy gave Tyler a huge hug.

The boy led them down the path, which was even darker and narrower than the old Trench. They had to climb down this wall and drop into the bottom of the cave.

“Oh my gosh.” Tyler was mesmerized by what he saw. The walls were covered with yellow gerbera daisies. There were about 200 people in this trench, all wearing yellow. They were shouting your name and Josh’s name. They even had a drum set up already.

“This is amazing.” Josh looked at Tyler, who had tears streaming down his face.

“Excuse me?” This girl, who looked about seventeen, tapped on Tyler’s shoulder. “I just wanted to tell you that you’ve saved my life. You’ve saved all of us.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” Tyler started to break down, falling to one knee, covering his face with one hand. Josh kneeled next to him and pulled him into a hug.

“Let’s go create some music,” Josh whispered into his ear. Josh walked over to this new drum set and pressed his foot on the bass drum. It echoed loudly through the trench and made Josh’s eyes light up.

“I want to thank you all for being so welcoming, and this place is beautiful!” Tyler spoke to the crowd in front of him. They all looked up at him with excitement in their eyes, waiting for a song to start.

Tyler looked over at Josh and gave him a thumbs us, and Josh responded with a nod. Tyler grabbed the Ukelele that he had brought with him and strummed the strings.

“This song is called The Judge.” Tyler’s voice filled the room with his voice and Ukelele, and Josh’s drums joined in, making the room vibrate. The bandito’s voices joined in during the chorus, and the moment was consumed by the music.  

The song ended and Tyler put his hand over his heart as he felt the claps and cheers of the Banditos. He looked over at Josh who had the same look of glee on his face.

Playing music was so special for Tyler and Josh, and it was so unfair that they had to keep it such a secret, but it was also amazing how many people are willing to rebel against the government and listen to their music. Tyler wished he could play music forever, and never stop.

[yourtongue]

Favorite links for shadowing and studying Korean

Jungkook's

감사합니다앙!🐰   |   JK🐰   |   JK   |   꾸기 라이브🐰   |   꾸기 라이브 다시 도전!   |   green hoodie Kookie   |   눈물도 없는 남자.   |    그렇게 믿었건만...   |    잠깐 들릴께요!   |    흑발 자랑 라이브😍   |   안녕!   |   오랜만이에요!   |    행복한 시간 후 여유로운 한잔🍷

Jimin's

Jimin’s Birthday ‘18   |   내가 왔다!   |   Jimin’s Birthday ‘17. 생일 축하합니다!🎂   |   지민이의 색칠공부🎨   |   Jimin’s Room feat. V & J-Hope   |   BTS 화양연화 on stage   |   부산이 보라색💜   |   훗   |   제가 왔어요 😗   |

RM’s

Map of the Soul: Persona   |   MONO   |   Love Yourself: Tear   |   Storytime feat. Jimin & J-Hope   |   Love Yourself: Her   |   Love Yourself: Answer   |    Rkive 😍😜 pt. 1 & 2   |   RM’s Birthday ‘18 🎂   |   RM Live! 🤢 feat. Jimin & J-Hope   |   RM 🤢   |

V’s

안녕 태형이야🐯   |   태형이의 "보고 싶어서 왔어요!" 🍡🎤   |   V in a white kimono.   |   Tae’s officially a furry and other stories.   |    오랜만이에요💜   |    선물왔습니다~!🐶   |    파리의 밤!😕 & pt. 2,  다시!  feat. J-Hope   |    오랜만   |    김태형과 함께하는 고민상담소 (classical music and lies - he’s too much for this world)   |    V😬 feat. Jimin   |   

Hobi’s

쩨이~호~~~~옵~~!😘   |    J-Hope Mixtape   |   호비와 함께 수다타임! 😘   |   J-Hope’s Birthday ‘17   |   호비 여기있어요~!😌   |    HOPE WORLD!😳   |

Yoongi’s

반복된 브이앱게임   |   흠   |   콘서트에서 갓 튀어나온듯한 슈가   |  

BTS group live videos

BTS 'I NEED U, BTS ON AIR'   |   the princes of everthing   |   can these people be more excited about performing and having a good time? like i’m stunned    |  [STAGE] Self-CAM: Attack on BTS!   |  BTS in Thailand - just arrived!   |     BTS Live in Tokyo    |   BTS Live in Osaka   |   Jimin & Jin get drunk feat. J-Hope   |    Namjoon & V   |   Jimin, Jin & Jungkook. Orange hoodie Jimin, Jin brings out his guitar, Kookie is Kookie as always, thank fuck.   |   Jimin, Jin & Jungkook. EatJin is hijacked by Chimmy the attention whore. Jikook.   |   Jimin, Jin & Jungkook. Osaka be wilding out there. They turn my baby (V) away when he wants to join. This video is proof that Jikook just won’t quit. Jin is like, the cutest.   |   Jungkook’s Birthday   |   미니모니   |   BTS Live in Osaka. They were babies here. Warning. This video contains an overload of cuteness, secondhand embarrassment and cringes. Proceed at your own risk. (It’s fun though)   |   VHOPE. THEY ARE THE MOST PRECIOUS TWO THINGS IN THE WORLD FIGHT ME.   |   빌보드 수상🏆공약! 먹방 라이브🍴   |   SOPE: 화개장터 솝 꿀피부를 부탁해😆   |   BTS Live : say hello to me (Jimin, Tae, Hobi)   |   그렇게 믿었건만... (V, Jimin, Kook)   |   EAT Jin (with 지민)   |   

BTS Run!

ep. 19 - the one where they bowl   |   ep. 11 - BTS feat. Yoonji   |   ep. 73, 74, 75, 76 - the acting one, pt. 1 & 2 & 3 & 4   |   the one that’s live in Thailand   |   the one with the comic book cafe, pt. 1 & 2   | the one where they play mafia   |   the classroom one pt. 1 & 2 & 3   |   the kimchi battle one pt. 1 & 2 (pray for them)   |   the one where they go crazy and do photo jumping and where you laugh your ass off along with their sorry asses   |   the secret agent one   |   the one with the dogs   |   the one at the pool pt. 1 & 2   |   you could say this is the police station one but everyone knows it as the kinky one where JK slapped JM’s ass   |   the one with the 5 senses pt. 1 & 2   |   the cafe one   |   the one where V makes a dick   |   the village one pt. 1 & 2   |   these oompa loompas are celebrating their 50th BTS Run! episode pt. 1 & 2   |   chaotic lawful genius team vs a bunch of gays. spoiler: they’re all gay pt. 1 & 2   |

'bokbulbok'

1   |   2   |   3   |   4   |   5

BTS specials

TOP10 VLive   |   JK meets an important person and they go on dates and it’s chill. This is cool to study how to speak around older and more important people in Korea.   |   JK & JM & JH Christmas Show   |    BTS Comeback Preview show <방탄늬우스 in LA>   |    BTS GAYO (watch the whole ass series)   | 

Hello Counselor Episodes

Jin, Jimin, Kim Seunghye   |   Jessi, Rap Monster, V, Kim Kayeon & Lim Yohwan   |   Solar, Moonbyul, Hwasa, Wheein   |   NCT127 & MOMOLAND   |   Kai and Lay of EXO, IU, K.Will!   |   Jonghyun, Key, Taemin, Solbi & Jung Dongha

LieV

Suzy’s LieV   |  ITZY’S LieV   |  (G)I-DLE’s LieV   |   fromis_9′s LieV   |   NCT127′s LieV  |   (G)I-DLE’s LieV   |  Triple H & Happy Train  |   IRENE & SEULGI's LieV  |  Red Velvet's LieV  |  Stray Kids X LieV  |  SEVENTEEN X LieV  |  CLC X LieV  |  GOT7 X LieV  |  GFRIEND X LieV  |  Yerin & Sinb's LieV  |  SHINee X LieV  |  DAY6 X LieV  |  DREAMCATCHER X Happiness Train  |  Stray Kids​ X Happiness Train  |  GOT7​ X Happiness Train  |  GOT7 X LieV  |  Sunmi X LieV  |  Girls' Generation X LieV  |  MAMAMOO X LieV  |  IU's LieV  |  Taeyeon's LieV  |  BLACKPINK's LieV |  EXO-CBX’s LieV  |  Eric Nam's LieV  |  VIXX X LieV  |  SEVENTEEN X LieV  |  HyunA X LieV  |  Twice X LieV  |  Twice’s Sana & Tzuyu X LieV  |   Twice’s Mina & Chaeyong X LieV   |

Channels I Love in General

BTS   |   Sunmi   |   Hyuna   |   Park Bo Young   |   BLACKPINK   |   NCT   |   (G)I-DLE   |   CLC   |   MAMAMOO   |   Suzy   |

YouTube Channels I Love to Shadow

홀리   |    영국남자   |    JOLLY   |   국가비   |   단앤조엘   |   Jipseekid   |   데이브   |    Dave's Sesang   |   에리나   |    브아이   |   한국언니   |   Talk To Me In Korean   |  Talk To Me In 100% Korean   |   Billy   |   미국인 빌리   |   민지 티치 코리안   |    Motivate Korean   |   채널 김철수   |   JAYKEEOUT x VWVB (dialogue & replies)   |   GLAM   |   Solfa   |   키튼햄찌   |   

Notable Videos

홀리 — unboxing fan's gifts   |   GLAM —   "Do you watch Japanese Porn?"   |   GLAM — Literally a K-Drama Just Waiting to Happen   |   GLAM — Double Trouble Couple   |   GLAM — CUTE BUT SHE ROBBED HIM   |   GLAM — uuuuugh he’s so pure pls don’t let her break ur heart baby   |   GLAM — Dude, can she date me instead?   |   GLAM — the religion one   |   GLAM — two models ah?   |   GLAM — two assholes   |   Solfa — Try not to offend anyone   |   GLAM — Can you discuss about feminism with your lover?   |   GLAM — this chick is so intelligent   |   Literally Lesbian Heart Attack  |   okay but this is a mess and it has Hyuna in it   |   ask a boyfriend of seven years   |  

[arilessiagranara]

Ask Game - Alessia Cara Albums Edition

A series of asks using song titles from AC’s albums! Feel free to ask anonymously or not! Reblog so your followers can ask you!

Know-It-All 👟

Seventeen: what’s one advice you’d give your teen self/younger self?

Here: do you consider yourself an intro/extro/ambi/omni -vert?

Outlaws: what crime are you confident you can get away with?

I’m Yours: what’s your go-to pick-up line?

Four Pink Walls: name your 4 favorite items in your room

Wild Things: you have 1 extreme activity on your bucket list, what is it?

Stone: what’s your birthstone?

Overdose: what’s something you’d let yourself overindulge in without repercussions?

Stars: do you have a favorite constellation? if so, which one?

Scars to Your Beautiful: what’s your favorite physical feature on yourself?

River of Tears: what’s a movie or song that makes you cry no matter how many times you watch/listen to it?

My Song: what’s your go-to karaoke song?

The Pains of Growing 🌻

Growing Pains: how tall are you?

Not Today: do you procrastinate or like to get things done asap?

I Don’t Want To: what’s a food everyone swears by but you refuse to eat?

7 Days: what’s your favorite day out of the week?

Trust My Lonely: have you achieved a personal goal recently? if not, what is one thing you wish to achieve soon?

Wherever I Live: if you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

All We Know: what’s your favorite fun fact?

A Little More: Fill in the blank: This world could use a little more ________.

Comfortable: hot or cold showers?

Nintendo Game: which video game (any video game, doesn’t have to be nintendo) character do you most identify with?

Out Of Love: have you ever had your heart broken?

Girl Next Door: would people who know you consider you down to earth or selfish?

My Kind: were you in a clique in middle/high school?

Easier Said: what’s a superpower you’d like to have?

In The Meantime 💙🧡

Unboxing Intro: thoughts on icebreakers?

Box In The Ocean: what would you put in a time capsule?

Bluebird: what’s your dream vacation/destination?

Lie To Me: what’s the most embarrassing lie you came up with?

Shapeshifter: how did you or how would you deal with someone switching up on you?

Fishbowl: what was your first pet?

I Miss You, Don’t Call Me: have you ever hit up an ex?

Middle Ground: is it pretty easy or hard for you and a person to decide where to eat?

Clockwork: you’re a time traveler for a day, where are you going?

Best Days: describe your perfect day

Sweet Dream: is there a dream you remember vividly?

Find My Boy: are you the wingman to your friends or the friend that needs a wingman?

Voice In My Head: do you listen more to your heart or your head? Slow Lie: do you have a favorite hoax/legend/folklore?

You Let Me Down: what’s one way you would cheer somebody up?

Apartment Song: what’s something you wanted to buy for your home that your parents/guardians never let you have?

[memeloverrrrr]

i pulled my ult bias when getting my first album

yes. i asked my korean friend to get me seventeens face the sun album - carat ver. in korea before visiting sweden. first thing i do when I meet the guy is open the album - keep in mind, it's my first album and i hadn't really watched any unboxing vids - wow scoups is on the front. cool! i open it up and get 3894 pcs with him. and i somehow pulled a regular pc with him as well. lucky me