#a Acrylic Paper Weights

[aanshi7]

Endless Creativity with Customized Printing and Promotional Products

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[zegalba]

Shiro Kuramata: Two floating feathers paperweights (1990)

[isbergillustration]

Testing out acrylics in new sketchbook. Result is No.

[marejadilla]

Ángeles Agrela, "El peso de Sara (Sara's weight)", 2018, acrylic and pencil on paper. B. 1966, Úbeda, Spain.

[eleonorpiteira]

Weight of a Feather, Assassin's Creed: Origins fanart, watercolour and acrylic gouache on hot press paper, 17.8 x 25.4 cm

This is one of those that I don't care if no one likes it, or if there are obvious mistakes/things that don't make sense, I'm proud of myself for managing to do it traditionally and that's that. It's for no one but me, I'm just sharing it with you :)

I started it in 2021, even began to paint it, but burnout is a bitch and I couldn't finish it then. Recently I decided to see if I could complete it traditionally and this is the result! It was inspired by a screenshot I took where Bayek's face is entirely in shadow. I then added elements that relate to Ma'at, the goddess of truth and justice, and the ceremony of the Weighing of the Heart, where she'd weigh a dead person's heart against her ostrich feather, to see if they were worthy of going on to the Field of Reeds (a sort of paradise). (Egyptologists don't @ me 😭)

[dognonsense]

Question...how do you make your patches? They seem so fuckin cool. I'm working on a vest and a jacket atm, and I'd like for them to be done by the time a pride fest rolls around next month.

Main technique I use for making patches nowadays is linocut. Its best suited for mass production of patches.

Make sure to remember your carving the mirror image so you have to flip all the text. Using tracing paper to flip the design is a good trick, as well as leaving graphite marks on side, then pressing that to the lino to leave the marks in the same spot. Another trick with pencil is to view what ur carving in negative space quickly, put a paper over your design and shade over it with pencil, darker marks will be where you haven't carved yet.

I use speedball fabric ink, it takes 1 week to set then will be fine to be washed. I have magenta, violet, turqouise, and white. They have a limited range of fabric colors at the store. I have seen gold and silver fabric paint for sale and I will investigate it one day.

I use a speedball roller, i find the smaller one to be better than the big one as I can be more precise and waste less ink.

I got a fancy handle for $40 but the screws fallen out so its broken now so just get some heavy books. I used to use a mug. Whats important is pushing your whole body weight into it.

I got a speedball carving tool with different heads I can swap out so I can cut into the lino at different deepness and widths. The heads are stored inside the tool since its hollow and has a screwable removable bottom. I use linocut or dollar store erasers for my carvings. Make sure to wash the ink off your linocuts after your done using them.

A thing to increase the lifespan of you're linocuts is to use wood glue, some cork or wood pieces, and glued the lino stamps onto them. I dont do that yet so my stamps fall appart from overuse sometime and because I cut way too deep into the lino since I hate chatter.

Chatter is the term for in linocutting when theres little messy lines and stuff. It makes the art more recognisably to be linocut. My work is very clean with no chatter which is why people don't notice its linocut usually. This is a stylistic choice, with diy styles having a lot of chatter can look really cool so experiment with leaving bits of extra uncarvered lino sticking out in ur stamp. I need to experiment and buy some more lino.

You can also use multiple linocut stamps together to make a patch. Some patches ive made have like 8 different stamps. Ive made a dog nonsense patch where each letter was their own eraser stamp. You can also use different colors between the different lino stamps on the same patch to add more color. An effect I like to do is first stamp it in color, then the next day I stamp it in white over the same spot but shifted to the right and down slightly. It makes the text have a cool border 3D effect I love doing.

If making a more detailed picture with colors, i reccomend hand painting patches. I use white fabric paint mixed with acrylics for color to get all the shades i need. Acrylic paint mixed with fabric softener works too.

If doing words and you dont want a unique font reccomend using letter stamps. If you want a unique font for that i recommend hand paint for individual or linocut for mass produce.

The positive of letter stamps is the font is neat and can be done quickly. I know from lending them to my roommate that they are very helpful if you have dyslexia and have trouble getting letters right.

A visual effect of the letter stamps is that have a nice boxy edge effect, its an imperfection that adds a personally touch to it. I have both lower and upper case stamps that I got from michaels. You can use a hair band or elastic to hold a bunch of letter stamps together to make a word stamp.

You can use other stamps than letters that you find at craft stores for example my racoon print is a craftstore stamp.

You can also find big plastic letter stencils at the dollar store that you can use to do lettering by filling in gaps with a sponge or or paintbrush. They make special paintbrushes just for using stencils.

You can also get plastic stencils in the shapes of things, i got some for children and use a horse stencil for my horse smoking weed patch. Easier than drawing a horse myself.

Another technique I use for more unique clean patches is gel plating. I haven't tried printing laserprint images with it as ive seen online a lot but I will try one day. What i personally do is use it to make imprints with chains and physical objects.

Another thing i use with gelplates are any stamps or linocuts that dont have words, or words ones that i fucked up with and forgot to mirror when carving. It flips mirror image twice with the gel plate so it goes back to being right again on the patch.

Another patch making technique is using foamboard cut into shapes glued onto cardboard. This is good for a quick test of a design and is very cheap to make. It will not hold under water so is more difficult to clean.

[lucerocosplay]

Shohki Mask Cover

construction notes & photos under the cut

This has been a long time coming! I'm glad she's a costume I can work a mask into without it breaking the design of the character. I feel like people would be less inclined to ask that you remove it for photos this way ^^;

I went with a very thin cotton gauze fabric (#9 "coffee" if you're wondering), think a slightly thicker cheese cloth. It's very breathable as a single layer and seemed the best choice for an N95 cover. The shape was really only achievable with this fabric because of the shape of my mask underneath, and some strategically placed 1/2" wide horsehair braid tubing from the dollar tree. I usually stock up around halloween but they stock around christmas too!

Process is very straight forward, just traced my mask on the fold and made some rough adjustments for a card stock mock up. I like 90-110 lbs for this sort of thing but construction paper can work in a pinch too. Cut that out and fit to my face, tweaked the placement on the nose bridge and added a 1/4" allowance for bias tape/facing, and appropriate allowance for flat felled seams.

The ear tab was extended to cover the mask underneath, and included allowance for support fabric (denim scrap in my case) to support two eyelets intended to thread the elastic of my mask through. Then it was just patterning out the rest of the mask elements and making note of seam allowance and how to cut each piece. I trimmed the tape holding together the card stock mask apart and finally got to cutting out the fabric once that was done.

There isn't anything fancy going on, the hardest part was just the inset mesh panel over the weirdly shaped keyhole cut outs on the mouth piece. It's just black nylon mesh typically used for interfacing bras sewn on after making the keyholes.

This fabric is like if toilet paper were a textile, which is great for breatheability and weight but absolutely hell for machine work like this. It's not for a competition so for me, hiding messy stitching with weathering later was ok.

The portion of the mask running from the underside of each ear tab was finished with homemade bias tape. The same method was used for finishing the top portion that runs over the bridge of my nose. The ends were simply folded and sewn down at the ear tabs for a clean finish.

The side "filters" have an extra 1/2" long extension so I can tack in the ends of some horse hair tubing, then double fold the fabric back into itself before hand tacking with tiny stitches from the outside. That helps the light fabric balloon out into that shape, along with another layer of that same mesh interfacing.

They are really fun actually, very floppy with great movement. Though they stick out a tad too much so I did add one small french tack to the center of each to help them point downwards but retain that movement. The "filter" took the most hand finishing out of the whole thing, but that was to be expected.

Once the little side "filters" were sewn in, there was just light weathering to do. I wanted to add some shadows and potential "mold spores" to certain areas to really make the texture pop and hide some messy stitching. Light passes with a dry brush and some acrylic helped a lot, so did referencing photos of mold growth on clothes.

It was a pass of burnt sienna along all seams and large patches where high humidity would accumulate. Then another lighter pass of burnt umber to deepen up areas, and some very sparse areas of white. Finally I wanted to give it the "blue cheese special" and mixed a little viridian green and that same white and hit the white areas first then dry brushed the spaces between mold patches. I'm trying to replicate active mold colonies so reference photos came in handy here. I also used some nail polish to match the grommets to fabric.

Maybe when I am not crunched for time I will get around to digitizing the pattern, but for now I hope the photos help anyone else trying to plan out a mask. Obviously the shape will change a lot depending on the sort of fabric and mask you have on under it, not to mention face shape. I would imagine bifolds would give you more her classic feed bag profile than an origami style mask, however.

[starysky1289]

I need more Toxic!Dark!Sorority Vanessa!!

That fic was just.. Chefs kiss. You write so well. 🥹

Thank you for the compliment it means so much. 😭😭🥺I took dark off it because to me toxic is just way more extreme dark.

Toxic!Soroity!Vanessa X Reader. The argument.

TW: DubCon, toxic relationship, drug mention, Pet play if you REALLY squint, slight abuse.

“ Vanessa please. Just sit down and study, you need to pass this test. “

“ I’ll be fine. My father will just throw some more cash at the teacher if I fail. I can’t belive I’m dating a fucking nerd…”

You sat on Vanessa bed, holding your rather expensive book on your lap, watching as Vanessa did her makeup in the mirror.

“ listen. Just do a little with me. If you do, I’ll go down to the frats party with you “

You got up and put your chin on Vanessa’s, as she pushed you off, mumbling to herself.

“ I’m not taking you out anywhere until you cut that hair. You know I hate it long. But fine, give me the fucking book…”

You sighed, and gently placed the book on her vanity, she flipped it open and read some random page, before closing it, going back to her makeup.

“ there, I’m done. Now leave me alone, I gotta finish getting ready for this party. “

You shrank into your skin, you looked at her through the mirror, your eyes starting to water.

“ your..your still going to the party without me? “

“ yeah? Who else is bringing the drugs. “

“ but..I can’t come? “

Vanessa groaned, standing up and heading towards her closest, looking through her multiple revealing outfits.

“ I said you’re not going out till your hair gets cut. And maybe if you loose a few pounds too. “

Your legs trembled, you hated when she brought up your weight, you had been working hard to try and loose some for her, but it was never enough.

“ b..but I’ll be alone in my dorm nessa…”

“ listen. You’re lucky we’re dateing, stop crying and get your shit together, I’ll drive you to your place. “

You grabbed your bag, shoving the papers and books you’d brought try and get her to study with you, it never worked. You froze, your hands trembling as you stared at the bright pink scrunchie around your wrist.

“ I can’t. TAKE IT ANYMORE VANESSA. “

She froze, staring at you in disbelief. You pulled the scrunchie off you wrist, holding it tightly in you hand.

“ I can’t take this abuse! I can’t take how you treat me like an accessory, I’m more than that! I’m sorry your father never loved you enough to give you a good life, but that doesn’t mean you can ruin mine. IM DONE. “

You throw the scrunchie in her small trash, grabbing your bag and storming towards the door. As you reached for the door handle, your wrists were quickly grabbed, and Vanessa shoved you against the wall, her eyes blazing with rage.

“ how dare you. You’d be nothing without me. NOTHING. “

She snarled in your face, her grip around your wrist tightened, you could feel her acrylics digging into your skin. She smirked, her eyes still starring into yours.

“ you wanna go to that party so bad? Fine. We’ll go, and we’ll make sure everyone knows your mine. “

She let go of you, and turned to her closet, throwing you an outfit. You watched as she changed her shirt skirt, tossing it back into the closet and going over to her vanity draws, before glaring at you.

“ don’t just stand there. Change. And if I fucking hear your complaining your dead. “

You quickly began to change, you had faced away from Vanessa, trying not to make much more eye contact with her. She had given you a pink tank top and a white short skirt, that barely covered your ass.

“ take the panties off. “

“ b-but nessa- “

“ do it. “

She growled at you from across the room, you reluctantly stripped them off, tossing them into the corner. You finally faced Vanessa. She wore a white crop top with a pink faux fir jacket, and a pair of tight black joggers shorts. You couldn’t help but notice the bulge in them, your lips quivering, you knew exactly what she was going to do with you.

“ now, let’s give you the last few changes~ “

She pulled your hair up with the pink scrunchie you threw out, putting it in a low ponytail. She fished around another cabinet and strapped a cold peice of leather around your neck. Looking in the mirror, you could see it was a pastel pink collar, you touched it gently, before Vanessa grabbed your wrists again, dragging you downstairs, and eventually out of the Soroity house.

“ your gonna listen to me. And if anyone comes up to you you’re gonna come find me, I don’t need another repeat of last time, do we? “

“ n..no nessa…”

She got into her car, you sitting in the passenger side, as she began to drive out.

“ one more thing. Im Mistress tonight, so if you need me, you’ll ask your Mistress, you got that? “

“ y-yes v-van-….yes mistress…”

Tears swelled in your eyes, as embarrassment flooded through your body. Vanessa glanced at you and scoffed.

“ again with the tears. Stop being such a crybaby, people don’t like it, I don’t like it. “

You wipped your face, and stayed quiet. Your heart raced at the thought of what she’d do to you. Eventually, you pulled up to a large red house, you could hear the music blaring from inside already. Vanessa stepped out and you followed her, she knocked on the door, and a tall, blonde guy welcomed her in, eyeing you down like meat as you followed her in.

People seemed to cheer as Vanessa came in and quickly sat herself down, emptying her purse, she had filled it to the brim with multiple baggies with white powder in them.

“ Y/N. You get the special job of counting my money. And if you do good I’ll reward you~ “

You only nodded, sitting next to Vanessa. You felt her fiddle with the collar, but you didn’t look.

“ alright fuckers, line up. Give the pretty girl your money. “

Dozens of people immediately lined up, digging through the pockets for wads of cash. You’d take it, count how much, and tell Vanessa, who’d hand them a bag worth the money. You couldn’t help but notice the glares you were getting, people eyeing you up and down. Even when they came up to get there shit they’d talk to Vanessa about.

“ pretty thing you’ve got there Nessa, what made ya bring her. “

“ she wanted you to throw a fit before i was gonna go, so i brought her along to help. Don’t worry, she’s got something coming. “

You stayed quiet when the line slowed down, and eventually everyone had gotten something. Vanessa pulled you into her, playing with something in her hand.

“ god…keeping you in a leash has been the best idea I’ve had. It really makes sure you know who you belong to~ “

You had finally noticed it, the black braided leash Vanessa had attached to your collar. You blushed and turned away, Vanessa only chuckled and pulled you in by it, holding you chin.

“ don’t be embarrassed. I think you got me a lot more money than I would off. I think that deserves a reward baby~ “

“ n-Nessa- “

“ mistress. “

“ mistress. Y-yess. I-I don’t wanna do anything in public like this..”

She chuckled again, spreading her legs, messing with her shorts and letting the pink strap pop out.

“ well, keep your mouth on it and no one sees. Easy as that. “

You stared at you, hesitantly moving down to sit between her legs. She held onto your ponytail, pushing your face against the strap.

“ pretty little thing…cmon. Get to work. “

You looked up at her once again, before slowly taking it in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head on it. She kept a good grip on your hair, you watched her look around the room, like she was making sure no one saw, but everyone could.

“ hey, Sarah, Bailey! No im not busy, get me a seltzer and join me. “

You flushed, those were the names of her closest friends. You tried to pull back, but she kept your head down, you reluctantly continued to suck on the pink silicone dick.

The girls sat on each side of her, you could see them looking at you, snickering behind their hands.

“ how’d she get in this predicament~? “

“ she wanted to run her mouth. And I couldn’t just let her get away with that. She threatened to leave me, Bailey, could you believe that. “

Vanessa finally let go of your head, you slowly pulled off, laying your head on her thighs. Sarah petted your head like you were a dog, snickering to herself.

“ can she do any tricks Vanessa~? “

“ mm..not tricks, but she’s a fantastic listener, arnt you baby~? “

“ yes..yes mistress…”

The girls all laughed, you burried your head in Vanessa thighs, you longed to go to your dorm and just sleep, but you had to run your mouth.

“ hey, baby. “

You lifted your head,Vanessa pulled the leash slightly, signaling you to sit on her lap. You felt so out of place there, the strap pressed against your pelvis, Vanessa’s arms around your waist.

“ you do one more thing for me and I’ll take you to ya dorm. “

“ w-what do you want…”

“ ride me. “

You burried your head into her shoulder, the girls giggled as Vanessa kissed your neck.

“ cmon baby, it’s just like at home. Only difference is we’re out. “

“ b-but I don’t like people watching..”

“ this isn’t a option, Y/N. You’ll do this, I take you home, I come back and get wasted. Maybe I should have let you walk out, you could have gotten kidnapped and raped on the way to your dorm. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. “

You quickly hugged her, tears forming in your eyes, before you pulled your face out of her shoulder and stared at her.

“ n-no please..d-don’t let me get hurt..”

“ then you gonna do it? “

You held her shoulders, taking a deep breath, before lowering yourself onto the toy, moaning softly. The tears slowly began to roll down your face as Vanessa gripped your waist, helping your ride the strap at a steady pace.

“ that’s it…my girl always comes back around to me, don’t you~? “

“ y-yes mistress, i do. I-I’m your girl..”

All threes of the girls laughed again. Vanessa would slam you down onto the strap, making your moans grow louder every moment.

“ m-mistress please- I-I’m gonna cum please~!! “

You felt the toy spread you, like it could rip you if it was any bigger. You slammed yourself down faster, trying to please her, trying to please yourself.

“ aww..dirty girl. Go ahead, cum…but your walking out of here by yourself, I’m not holding your hand~ “

You where to intoxicated by the pleasure to care, letting Vanessa thrust into your, before you let out one last defeated moan. Your walls clenched around the toy, as you let out heavy breaths. The music was still blaring around you, no one seemed to notice what had just happened besides the two girls and maybe one or two bystanders.

“ such a good girl..what do you say~? “

“..thank you…thank you mistress…I love you..”

Vanessa, for the first time, gently held his ur waist and helped pull you off, as she stuffed the soaked strap back into her shorts, letting you walk out toward the door.

“ I’ll be back in like fifteen, save my seat. “

Vanessa called to her friends, before you walked into the passenger seat, Vanessa pulled you into her, kissing you deeply.

“ oh i love you too…oh how lucky you are that your mine~ “

[foolishfoolsgold]

SHES DONE

Verdant the lactobacillus is DONE!! Made out of glued scrap paper painted w acrylics and sealed with mod Podge, I love her so so much.

[Start ID: video showcases a paper sculpture of a green biped character with fins on her head and elbows, sharp cheek bones that stick out to the sides, teal eyes with multiple pupils, a pointed snout with sharklike teeth, red gills on her neck, webbed hands and feet, and a fishlike tail. She’s wearing a yellow tee shirt and khaki shorts, and standing in a pose as if she was startled by something overhead. The sculpture is about as tall as a hand with the wrist and stands on its own thanks to weights in its feet. End ID.]

[isleofavalonart]

I finally finished my sketchbook! It literally took an entire year but here she is!

Through this adventure I learned how to:

Dye linen thread (ft. So much math. Fabric dyes never have instructions for small amounts of material. Special shout out to my dad for being a homie and helping me convert from imperial/volume based measurements to metric/weight based ones. He saved me many hours of turmoil)

Measure hole sizes and use post screws

Cut and drill through acrylic sheets without shattering them (and to drill bigger than the screw size when working with rigid material)

Make book cloth adjacent cover material out of fabric. (Aka glue fabric to paper then to cover. No more unravelling)

I also learned to stop expecting anything that relies on extremely specific and tiny measurements with literally no wiggle room for human error to work out well. (Covering that last book board frame layer was a ✨problem✨)

I was also finally able to stop being such a perfectionist when the cover holes didn’t align in all four places, as evident by my weaving thread through it and calling it a day.

(Listen, aligning three layers worth of hole punches is really hard and I’m mathematically challenged. I literally had to relearn how to read a ruler correctly for some reason during this project.)

Despite the many many challenges, I am extremely proud of how this turned out!! I’m also very happy to have an actual sketchbook again so I can stop carrying around individual pieces of paper to draw on :DDD

[madfantom]

✉ To order or for any questions, write me in direct messages here

CUPHEAD MERCH

Everything is available

EXAMPLE soon

ADVENTURE TIME MERCH

Everything is available

EXAMPLE soon

✉ To order or for any questions, write me in direct messages here

DELIVERY

 ⊛ Paper products (stickers) and plastic bookmark are sent by letter, acrylic is a package. The price may vary depending on the weight.

 ⊛ Approximate cost Letter - $4 - 10 Package - $12-20

[kruzidula]

what materials and clay do you use for your dolls?

The materials I use for my dolls diverts piece from piece, BUT! The type of clay i use is p consistant: firm super sculpey (with aluminum and wire structure inside to spare materials and minimize weight in a piece)

and creative paper clay. I especially reccomend the paper clay for making a doll w many pieces, its lightweight, easy to carve and easy to add on to once dry (just need 2 dampen a little)

If there are any other consistant materials i use that would be brushed out acrylic yarn, straightenes w a hair iron!

[turtlesallthewaytomgreg]

hc au where tom buys two of those acrylic-suspended scorpion things and gives one to greg after his hundredth firing and says smth like 'well, well, well, gregory hirsch, slim reaper, sending hardworking people to the chopping block, swinging the axe with glee. congrats on your latest massacre, man. i, uh, i thought you might want to get those macbethian hands of yours on the family totem, eh?' and tom's trying to smirk but there's something else there, searching his face as greg silently peers inside, and then tom's clearing his throat starting to panic and he's about to backtrack and minimize and take it all back but then greg's just elated about how cool this is, wants to know how they got that thing in there and whether it's real and if there's any chance it's still alive. says he's going to make it a paper weight in his new corner office and make sure everyone can see it on all the calls. and i mean sure, the scorpion's pretty weird, even for them. but it's not really the scorpion, is it. it's about the one person who has ever looked out for him in this fucking family.

[bis-who-stitch]

We officially have a hobbit hole!

50 rows out of 810

I am using Stylecraft's ReCreate which is made from recycled garments! I imagine it's offcuts or "factory waste" but it's nice to use an acrylic blend that doesn't just feel like new plastic. It's a 40 wool 30 acrylic 30 polyester blend, the label claims the poly is derived from recycled plastic bottles as well but I'm not sure on the validity of that. Nonetheless, it makes a good gifting yarn. It's a lighter DK, I'm using 3.5mm needles here it's recommended for 4 though. I chose these colours (ink and ecru) because I liked the idea of it looking like ink on a paper as an illustration

My deadline for this project is the 27th of November and I started it on the 7th September - my aim is to have an 80 row chart done each week or ~ 10-15 row done a day! I'm making it for my dad's 50th birthday. This is such a beautiful project it's going to be difficult to give away. It's also going to be incredibly long - the original pattern is a lace weight and knitted on 2mm, I'm on 3.5mm as I said with a light DK weight

[pleistocene-pride]

Happy Dinosaur Day: Eocarcharia is a genus of carcharodontosaurid theropod dinosaur that lived in what is now North Africa during the Aptian and Albian stages of the early cretaceous period some 125 to 112 mya. The holotype specimen of eocarcharia consisting of a partial skull was uncovered in the year 2000 during an expedition to the Elrhaz formation led by University of Chicago paleontologist Paul Sereno. These remains where found alongside the remains of an abelisaurid named Kryptops. Yet in wouldn’t be until 2008 that the animal would be formally named and described by Dr. Sereno and Dr. Brusatte. Since then some additional post cranial remains have been recovered/ reassigned from other genuses. The type and only species is Eocarcharia dinops which roughly translates to dawn shark with fierce eyes, with the specific name being in reference to the fact that Eocarcharia’s brow is swollen into a massive band of bone, giving it a menacing glare. Reaching roughly 19 to 26ft (6-8m) in length and 2,200 to 4,400lbs (1,000 to 2,000kgs) in weight, Eocarcharia would have been one of the largest predators of its environment. Likely using its sharp blade like teeth to dispatch various prey in the form of the sauropods, ornithopods, crocodiliomorphs, and smaller theropods it shared its environment with.

Art used can be found at the following links

[sopejinsunflower]

2023.001.015: Unburdening

TW: Mentions of an abusive relationship, slut-shaming

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

The weight of you in his arms is comforting, Taehyung thinks as he carries you into the house and up the stairs. 

While he does that, Jimin pesters Ollie for a glass of warm milk, giving Taehyung ample time to sneak upstairs without her breathing down his neck. He’s careful with his steps, his arms steady as he keeps you from bouncing too much as he moves because if you wake then he might not get to hold you any longer. He makes his way to your room, using his foot to nudge the door open. Karma, the cat, is sitting on the window sill, watching him through narrowed eyes, tails swishing.

“I’m just taking her to bed,” Taehyung mumbles, not even sure why he needs to explain himself, never mind to a cat. Carefully, he places your head onto your pillow and gently arranges your body under the blanket. You turn sideways, tucking one hand under your cheek. You still have Yoongi’s jacket on and Taehyung doesn’t think about removing it. He sits back on the edge of the bed, watching you. 

He lets go of a deep breath, his mind wandering to the story Jungkook told tonight. It’s been a long time since he’s reminded of it all, their original lives back then though Jungkook could’ve chosen better names. As much as he wants you to remember, it’s not his main concern for tonight. He’s more worried of the emotional burden you’ll have to go through when it does happen. How would it affect you this time? They can never tell. 

A lock of hair falls over your face and Taehyung reaches out to gently push it back with one finger while softly caressing your cheek. He’s not sure if the others have noticed it, but to him, this version of you resembles the original the most; not physically but…he’s not sure how to put it into words. That’s one of his weaknesses; Taehyung is never good with words. He needs more time to think on it, unlike Namjoon or Yoongi or Jin who are more articulate. He’s just not wired that way. 

But what he can’t put into words, he expresses it differently with just as much flourish. Taehyung’s mediums are the different colours of acrylics, oils, pastels and watercolours, carefully curated via whatever he’s holding in between his fingers. Pencils or paint brushes, rollers or just his bare hands, he’s always been better at reflecting his heart through pictures on a canvas. He’s drawn many for you and of you, hundreds of them in abstract arts (that’s his speciality) that you used to hang all around the house at one point or another. 

He stands up and wanders over to your desk, spying a notepad and pen in one corner. His fingers itch as he holds the pen in between his fingers, not even sitting down as he sketches. The cat jumps off from the windowsill and makes his way over to Taehyung, hopping up onto the desk with ease. Taehyung eyes him cautiously but doesn’t halt, not even when the cat peers down at the picture coming together on the paper. 

“Your nose is in the way,” Taehyung whispers as he tries to manoeuvre around the cat. It only takes him a few minutes to finish and when he does, he stands back, studying the drawing. 

Mreowww.

“Shhh!” Panicked, Taehyung rips out the paper, crumples it and chucks it into the small trash basket under the desk. You stir but remain asleep and Taehyung glares at Karma so hard he’s sure even the cat could feel his annoyance. He makes to leave the room, walking towards the door but pausing along the way. A good night kiss, that’s all he wants.

Karma jumps onto the bed and places himself firmly in between him and you, plopping down carefully in the nook of your foetal position between your stomach and your thighs, looking at Taehyung almost challengingly. Taehyung snorts and rolls his eyes, admitting defeat by leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

~~~

No haunting dreams, no dreams that wake up me screaming. No dreams, period. 

The next few days through the week, all seem normal. I have my classes and the boys have their own schedules. The only difference is that Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook all seem to have more free time. They’re no longer cooped up silently in their rooms, coming out to join me for lunch or for walks down to the stream in between classes. While we have breakfast as eight people together in the morning, I spend more time with the three.

By Friday, it’s almost like we have a ritual down pat; Jimin would come knocking on my door at seven for breakfast and he’s always chippy, a broad smile on his face as he chirps, “Good morning!” and offers me his arm, insisting that we go down to breakfast together. The others will already be waiting. We’d have breakfast and Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon would leave for work after, although they looked like they would rather stay at home, lingering in the doorway for longer than they should, repeating goodbyes like it pained them to leave. It’s honestly quite amusing. 

If my first class starts later than eight, I’d go back to my room for a quick nap or to just play with Karma and on days where I’m teasing the cat with a fishing rod or a crinkly ball, Jimin or Jungkook or Taehyung would join me. Sometimes they share the same schedules, other times they have separate classes and would disappear into their rooms. I wonder what changed with their classes but all they told me is that it had been a little hectic in the beginning of the semester. Now, their schedules are more set, is all.

It’s Friday after lunch and Jimin has decided to follow me for a walk outside. Jungkook and Taehyung retreat back into their rooms as we both head down to the greenhouse. We walk side by side under the tunnel of sakura trees that no longer bear any flowers. Every once in a while, our pinkies brush against each other but neither one of us are making any moves. We reach the greenhouse and Mr Chang is inside, pruning on a hibiscus tree. 

“Out for your usual walk, miss?” he says, turning around and then doing a double take when he sees I’m not alone. “Oh, found a companion, I see.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face but he’s already turning away. “Don’t pick any of my flowers, please.”

I was about to respond in defence because I never pick the flowers when I saw the guilty look on Jimin’s face as he pulled his hands away and clasped them tightly in front of himself. I give him an incredulous look and he grins back sheepishly. “Seriously?” I mouth at him.

“They’re pretty,” he replies with a pout.

“Which is why you shouldn’t pick it,” I retorted with an eye-roll. It didn’t faze him, breaking into a smile immediately and tailing me from behind. 

Season-wise, early summer is my favourite time of the year. Scholar-wise, this means exam week which is just around the corner before summer break rolls in. Walking towards the back of the greenhouse, I spot three newly-filled pots next to a plot of earth that looks somewhat wet and showing signs that something has recently been planted. I point to them. “What are those?”

Mr Chang glances at them briefly before answering, “Oh, those are Namjoon’s and Taehyung’s projects. They wanted to try growing some stuff.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh yeah? What did they plant?”

Mr Chang shrugs. “I think they both have one vegetable each, a contest of sorts between them but I can’t remember what it is. Namjoon’s other one is honeysuckles and Taehyung’s second choice is calla lilies.”

I laugh, delighted by the news. “When did they do this?”

“Err, sometime this week,” Mr Chang says slowly. “Or probably the weekend. I’ve lost track of time. Summer is my busiest month and it would’ve been better if they helped me out instead.” He shakes his head in annoyance but the light mood in his eyes tells me he’s only joking. 

“I’d tell them that,” I offer in between giggles. “Maybe Namjoon might quit his job and be your assistant, Mr Chang.” 

~~~

Behind you, Mr Chang and Jimin exchange glances. 

The honest truth is that those pots were taken out and filled with fresh earth just two days ago, on Wednesday and every morning, they, mostly Namjoon, would come out and tend to it under Chang’s guidance and watchful eyes. The chosen vegetables are tomatoes and squash; Namjoon’s tomatoes in the pot and Taehyung’s squash in the plot of newly turned soil. This new hobby is sprouting from Namjoon being physical but not able to stay indoors during the day because he is supposedly at work. Taehyung joined in when he found out.

So where do the four of them go in the morning? Into the staff cottage, of course, away from your sight with the greenhouse the only other place they can get to without risking being seen. Namjoon is almost always here in the mornings, chatting with Mr Chang about plants while Hoseok and Jin remain indoors, sometimes with a book, other times bored out of their minds. They did order a gaming console Chang told them about but that has yet to arrive.

Yoongi, however, has rediscovered his old working shed that still stands in the same plotland as the staff quarters. On Tuesday, he spent eight hours cleaning up in there, moving out every work table and chairs and bits of old wood blocks and sweeping out all the dust and cobwebs and then wiping down everything. It took him two days to clean; the chase for the wolf spider took half a day because none of them had wanted to deal with it after it scurried into a corner and Yoongi spent the next few hours jumping at everything and moving in tiny movements. Even when everything was cleared out, the spider was still missing.

On Thursday, Mr Chang had gone out to town to get parts for Yoongi’s long-abandoned workstations and tools that had rusted over with time. Yoongi spent the whole day fixing up and replacing every blade he ever owned so that by today, Friday, he can start getting to work on the item he promised you: the cat tower. Yet the spider, now named Vivian for whatever reason, is still a looming problem and he just can’t get comfortable sitting inside the workshed without having to stand up every few minutes at the slight shiver down his spine. 

“Namjoon actually just left,” Mr Chang tells Jimin the moment he’s sure you’re out of earshot. “Saw you coming while he was tending those.”

Jimin grimaces. “Yikes. That was a close call.”

“I forgot she comes here some Fridays,” Mr Chang says apologetically. “But…” he heaves a deep sigh. 

Jimin doesn’t push for him to finish his sentence; he’s thinking about it, too. If only they could come clean then all this lying and sneaking around won’t be necessary. But sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest of all and Jimin would rather beg for forgiveness than having to deal with the aftermath of a cycle gone wrong. He knows it’s deceitful to wait but it’s all they know how to play it safe. Being honest from the get-go had never ended right. 

How long did it take for them to come clean with Soon-hee? Three months and even now, looking back, Jimin thinks that she never fully forgave them, even considering how the cycle ended. On the surface, they lived a full life with her right to her old age, but it had been empty right at the end. She was bitter and distant and nothing they did could ever make her come around so they left her be. 

It’s Jimin’s worst fear if this cycle ends the same. There’s so much potential, so much light and love with every look from you, every smile you cast his way. He finds himself agreeing more and more with Jungkook lately but not once has he ever raised the subject with the others; not yet anyway.  It’s not his place and it’s still early. Maybe, if and when Jungkook finishes his story, it’ll be a good chance to broach the subject and reassess the situation. 

“Jimin?” 

He snaps out of his thoughts and calls out, “Yes?”

“Over here, silly,” you say as he turns around to see you by the entrance, confused as to how you got there. “Are you staying? I’m going down to the stream.”

Jimin hurries after you. “I’m coming.” 

“Last one to the stream has to get snacks,” you say abruptly. Before Jimin can fully comprehend it, you add, “Ready? Go!” 

Jimin watches you race forward, mouth hanging open. It takes a few seconds before his brain catches up and he’s chasing after you, eyes locked on the way your hair flies behind you, the headband you had on is now in your hand instead. You twist your head to look at him, laughing your little head off when you see him on your heels, speeding forward but not that it puts much distance between you. And in that brief moment of you looking back, Jimin has a flashback. 

He’s not sure which cycle it is but it’s something from a long time ago, an age where girls wore long dresses and skirts in pretty colours. You had on a light blue summer dress, the one stark thing he remembers as he follows behind you in a quick pace, you giggling and running forward every few minutes. “Keep up, my love,” you called out to him as you disappeared around a tall hedge. Where had they been? A garden maze, Jimin recalls, but whose, he’s not sure. This was the cycle where he had been the first for you to fall for, something they thought would make a difference. 

“Lizzy?” he called out as he ran through the maze, taking the next turn more swiftly than the last. Elizabeth, one of your many names. You had a lot of names through the cycles and Jimin remembers each one of them. “Come now, my darling. Where are you?”

“Here!”

Jimin followed the sound of your voice deeper into the maze and finally appeared in the heart of it, finding you standing there, a little breathless, your chest heaving. No one else was there, nor was there anything else except for a thin blanket laid out on the grass. Why did you lead him here? The sun was about to set in the horizon and it was getting a little dark for Jimin to feel at ease. 

“It’s getting late, love,” he said, approaching you and taking your hand. “We should get home now. The others will worry.”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to go home yet, Jiminie,” you said coyly, batting your eyelashes. Jimin was even more confused, leaning towards worry. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, peering into your eyes. “Is something the matter, love?”

You let out a soft laugh. “I’m fine. Oh, Jiminie, I’m more than fine. I just…” you trailed off, too shy to speak your mind. You played with his fingers, looking down at your feet, hoping he gets it. You raised your eyes once again to meet his gaze, feeling a little braver now. “The house doesn’t provide much privacy these days,” you said in such a low voice Jimin had to lean in to hear. 

His brows furrowed but when he finally got the message, his eyes grew twice as large. He glanced at the blanket laid out and looked back at you, your cheeks flaming harder now having had to spell it out for him. Jimin decided to tease you. He stepped closer. “Privacy for what, sweetheart?” he questioned, fingers wrapping around yours. “I don’t quite understand.”

You bit on your lower lip, flustered now. “I’m sure you do. You’re a smart man.”

Jimin hummed, circling one hand around your waist, squeezing you close to him. You resisted, not used to being this close, front to front, with another man, even if it’s your own lover. Jimin tipped your chin up with a finger, forcing you to look at him. His words were mere whispers but it sent a shiver down your spine. “Come now, my dearest. Tell me. Hurry, before I decide we should leave because Yoongi hyung is preparing dinner tonight. And you know how much I love his food.”

You giggled. “Sometimes I think you love him more than I do.”

Jimin only smiled, adamant to not let you change the subject. His hand roamed from the small of your back to somewhere slightly lower and you sucked in a breath. You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering, your cheeks rosy and gave him the words he had been dying to hear. “I want you, Jiminie.”

That night, Yoongi had sat at the dining table, eyes never leaving the small clock he set down in front of him, worried sick. There had been too many serial killing deaths lately and two of his most important people weren’t home yet. When you and Jimin walked through that front door, clothes looking a little out of place, bits of small leaves in yours and Jimin’s hair, both of your lips swollen, and a glow on your face that Yoongi had never seen before, all the lectures he had planned to say went out the window. He only watched as you went to your room, a bounce in your steps.

Jimin had muttered an apology to him but both of them had been more focused on another thing entirely. They both shared one simple knowledge that night: that you had chosen Jimin to give your innocence to. 

“I win!”

Jimin is taken out of his reminiscence by your shout. He slows down his steps as he nears you, leaning down on his knees to catch his breath. He smirks up at you. “You know you cheated, right?”

“Nonsense,” you laugh. “I gave you a heads up!”

“By one second!” Jimin argues back, shaking his head at the absurdity of it, which only makes you laugh more. He straightens up and starts making his way back towards the house.

“Where’re you going?”

He turns around with a pout. “To get the snacks, of course.”

You howl with your head back, hands holding your stomach. “Please and thank you, Jiminie,” you say sweetly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Jimin pauses at the nickname, flashes you a smile and then runs off to get to the kitchen faster. 

~~~

I had a peculiar feeling that has lulled into a nibbling thought at the back of my mind. 

I can’t quite put my finger on it but it’s something that slowly digs through my brains, like a little worm in search of something as I feel it moving around me. It started when I raced Jimin here, well, outraced him because he was right, I did technically cheat. It’s like deja-vu but your brain just can’t put the pieces together. I’ve been having a lot of those lately and it’s starting to eat me up inside, like I’m missing something or I’m supposed to know something but don’t. 

The frustration is starting to grow, sitting heavy on my chest. Most times I wake up from a dreamless sleep and all I think about is the feeling that my skin doesn’t fit me or that I’m forgetting something important even when I’ve checked off all my to-do list. I’m not behind in classes, I’m submitting my assignments on time, the group projects are going smoothly. I’m on top of my studies for the exams coming up in the next couple of weeks and yet I can’t shake the feeling off. 

I’m growing restless most nights and the only times I’m not feeling like this or can forget about it is when I’m with them. But short and sweet distractions as they are, sometimes I find myself going through a strange sense of nostalgia or getting image flashes I don’t recognise when I’m in their presence. It’s honestly weirding me out and I’m starting to think I’m going through some sort of mental breakdown. 

Running down to the stream with Jimin behind me, I had this sudden recollection of a huge garden maze, the ones you see in rich people’s backyard in Victorian era movies. I saw myself running through them but as far as I remember, I’ve never been anywhere near a life-sized maze like that, never mind happily traipsing in one. Is it some sort of psychosis? They say that mental illnesses usually surfaced in their late twenties or early thirties and, honestly, if that’s the case then I won’t be surprised. I had a shitty life before I learn of my mysterious grandaunt, my brain could have been fucked up.

Maybe I should reach out to my therapist again. I feel like I’m going crazy. 

Looking back towards the house, I see Jimin coming back with something in his hand. The sun shining on his blond hair creates a soft halo around his head and as he shades his eyes to look at me, his lips spread into a smile. For a moment, I’m completely dazzled, blinking stupidly his way. It’s only when he’s a few feet away, rambling about something, do I realise that my heart is fucking beating out of my chest.

And then another realisation hits me: I’ve been having the same goddamn reaction with each one of them lately. 

 – – – 

“Like a goddamn slut.”

I banged the bedroom door close so hard the picture frames on the wall shook for a good ten seconds before it settled again. “Fuck you, Nick!” I screamed from inside the bedroom. “Fuck you!”

“It’s not like I’m wrong,” he responded from somewhere in the kitchen. “I leave you alone for one night and you’re all over those guys.” He laughed snarkily and I could hear him pouring himself a drink. “Bet you love the attention, huh?”

I clasped my hands over my ears, not wanting to hear his voice anymore but he came over and kicked open the door, a bottle of Jack in one hand. “Girls night out my ass,” he spat, ambling into the room and standing in between the bed and the door. 

“They bought us one drink, Nick. One fucking drink!” I screamed back, anger making me see red. “And what the hell were you doing there anyway? Spying on me?”

Nick scoffed. “I passed by the place and remembered you telling me you guys were going there. So I just thought I dropped in and surprised my girlfriend only to find you wrapped around those assholes.”

“What the fuck are you on about?! We don’t even know them and they were just being nice by buying us drinks! They didn’t even come to our table, for fuck’s sake.” 

“Nice. Right. You mean a blowjob in the toilet?”

“Are you fucking hearing yourself?!”

I stomped around the bed and circled him to exit the room. He caught me by the wrist and pulled me back. “Where the fuck you think you’re going? I’m not done talking.”

“Well I’m done listening to your stupid rambling,” I retorted, pulling on my arm trying to break free. “You’re jealous and you’re twisting your insecurity to make me the bad guy. Nothing happened and you got jealous over nothing. The end. I’m done. Let me go.” 

His grip tightened and he threw me onto the bed. “You’re done when I say you’re fucking done. I’ll teach you what happens when you throw yourself to multiple men like that when I’m not around,” he said through gritted teeth, unbuckling his belt. “I’ll fucking teach you.”

– – – 

“So I got some cut up fruits and graham crackers and- hey, what’s wrong?”

I blink and realise my vision is blurry and my cheeks are wet. Jimin hurries over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, concern heavy in his eyes and his forehead creasing over. I hastily wipe the tears with the back of my hands and try to laugh at the situation for being silly. “Sorry, I’m fine, I’m fine.”

But Jimin isn’t convinced. His frowning only deepens and he has a serious look on his face, one I’ve never seen before. Though his hair falls over his forehead and gives him that boyish look, the worrying over only gives him a boost of dominance as he pulls my hands away from my face, crouching low on the ground near my feet so he can look up at me. He tucks my hair behind my ears and wipes away the remaining tears. 

“Aegi-ah, the one thing I don’t like the most is liars,” he says softly but with the severity of someone who wouldn’t take any bullshit. “And I know you are lying to me now.” 

~~~

The hypocrisy doesn’t escape him but he’d do anything to make you feel okay again.

You stare at him, contemplating on his words, eyes glassy and slightly tint red and Jimin combs through his memories, trying to remember if he did something or said something wrong before he left you. Had he been too harsh, even if he was joking and you were laughing? Did he say something that stuck with you in his absence, something unpleasant, without him realising it? Was it his actions? His tone of voice? 

You heave a sigh and smile sadly. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…” you let out a shaky laugh. “It’s nothing. Honest.”

Jimin is not happy with the answer but he’s also not one to push. Instead, with your hands still in his, he starts to rub small circles with his thumbs on the back of your hands. Softly and gently, watching you in case you start crying again. You turn your body around to face the body of water and Jimin scoots to sit next to you, hugging his knees to him, mirroring your position. You sit there in silence, the bag of snacks in between the two of you, untouched. 

“I had a shitty life before I came here,” you say in a small voice, eyes faraway, staring at a spot in the stream. “It’s actually why I came here.” Jimin doesn’t say a word, afraid that it might stop you from talking. You continue, “I came here to take a break from everything, to escape.”

Jimin’s curiosity is peaking, wanting to ask what were you escaping from but, again, he only listens, waiting patiently before you start talking again. 

“You see, I was in this really bad, really toxic relationship with someone who I thought I loved,” you say, your voice heavy with emotions. “Someone who I thought loved me, too. But it was only good for the first year. And then it all went downhill.”

The words flow out of you like a waterfall, talking without any breaks or hesitance. He could tell that there were things you gloss over and things you don’t get too much into the details but whatever that you told him was enough to paint the horrible picture of your past relationship. The more you talk, the more Jimin’s blood boils, and the more he pushes down on his anger, the deeper the mark of his own fingernails dig into his own arms as he does his best to reel in his emotions. By the time your words finally dry up, Jimin’s jaws ache from how hard he has been grinding down. 

Jimin isn’t a violent man. He’s always been the type to argue with words and never with his fists. Petty squabbles with the others only escalated to throwing food at each other or soft objects, like bananas that one time, or a sweater that other time. But right now, Jimin is confident that if he meets this ex of yours, this Nick guy, he would definitely kill him, knowing full well that his brothers will swear he never left the house.

~~~

I skip all the heavy shits, only focusing on the dynamics of my relationship with Nick, how fucked up it was and how it took me over five years to finally up and left. 

I didn’t talk about the physical abuse, only the verbal ones. I didn’t talk about the broken TVs or how many glasses had been shattered or how many times we’ve had to fix walls and doors he’d punched through. I gloss over heavy details by downplaying situations, not recounting the countless times the police had banged on our front doors or that time he had to rush me to the emergency room because I had lost consciousness after one of our fights due to the stress. His aggression had never been aimed at me, but there have been near misses and only twice where I had been in the way of the flying objects he threw around. 

I skipped the lies he would tell the officers who came to check on the noise complaints, the lies he would tell the doctors: “sorry, didn’t know the TV was on that loud”, “we were just roughhousing, officer. I’ll apologise to the neighbour”, “she banged her face into the door, doc, I didn’t know she was on the other side”, “she slipped and fell, she’s always been clumsy”, “I don’t know what happened, I came home and found her unconscious”.

I skipped all the gaslighting and the nitty gritty details and yet I’m left with a bitter taste in my mouth at the mentions of his name, like the single syllable itself burnt my tongue. My therapist told me I have trauma but I don’t feel like I do. I feel fine, in control. Most times.

~~~

Jimin is seething but he swallows the acidic taste in his mouth and turns to you.

He grabs hold of your hand and your eyes widen in surprise. His heart is aching, screaming for him to punish the man that hurt you. His eyes roam your face, falling on that almost invisible scar on your eyebrow and that imperceptible dip in your hairline and wonders if those were from that bastard. How dare he. How fucking dare he hurt my baby!  He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and forces a smile for you.

“I don’t know how,” he says, his voice shaking with anger, “but I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel safe. You’re safe here. Do you hear me? You’re safe.” 

~~~

His words don’t quite make sense, like he’s promising something too big but the comfort and relief they brought me was exponential that I appreciated it. 

I grip his hand tighter, conveying my feelings that way because if I open my mouth to speak I’m sure I’ll break down again. Deep down, I find myself believing in his words. I’ve left that life behind, moved thousands of miles away to be here, not to just escape but to feel safe. Jimin’s words echo in my mind as I think how nice it is to be living with seven housemates; seven men that could potentially keep me away from harm, not that I couldn’t take care of myself, but more of the precaution of having other people around. 

Of all the things I didn’t tell him, the most paramount information was that I never said goodbye when I left. After six months of planning and tiptoeing around him, six months of putting together all important documents and buying a new sim card, six months of packing one or two items in a small bag left in my beat up car, six months playing the perfect girlfriend part, I finally fled the shared apartment while he was at work.

~~~

Yoongi sits on the stool in his workshed, leaning over the big table in the middle and drumming his fingers. On the table, in front of him, are pieces of papers strewn about with pencil sketches of random ideas he had for the cat tower.

Once in a while, he gets a random shiver and stands up, shaking his arms and twisting his head around to check if anything is crawling up on his back. Damn you, Vivian, he curses, eyes looking around the shed wildly but finding nothing. He makes a mental note to have Chang do a thorough check of the shed but he’s a little too proud to admit that a spider scared him. In his defence, it had been a huge one, now nowhere to be found.

He picks up his best designs and thinks about asking which one you would like but that would ruin the surprise. There’s a knock on the door and Namjoon peeks in. “Did you find it? The spider?”

Yoongi sighs and shakes his head. Namjoon opens the door wider. “Maybe it left already,” he says, stepping inside. He sees the papers and walks over, picking one up. “You’re making the cat tower?”

“Planning to,” replies Yoongi, leaning back in his seat. “Can’t really focus when I keep feeling like Vivian is sitting on my shoulders.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “Vivian?”

“The spider.”

Namjoon decides not to question it, putting down the papers and walking around the small room. Yoongi watches him with narrowed eyes as he leans to look at the array of tools hung on the wall and then walks over to the saw table, peering too closely for Yoongi to be comfortable. “Yah, stop it. Come here where it’s far away from the blade,” he calls out, motioning with one hand for Namjoon to come back over. 

“I didn’t even touch anything,” Namjoon mutters as he walks back. “So which one are you going to make?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I need to take the measurements first of the corner she wants to put it in.” He flicks one of the papers with a finger, making it slide away. “To be honest, these are pretty lame designs. I’m not happy with it.”

 Namjoon looks at the drawings, thinking that they looked good enough but he doesn’t say it aloud. “Ask Jungkook about it. Maybe he can help,” he finally says before leaving and Yoongi nods. “About time to go back, by the way.”

Yoongi nods again, hopping off the stool and following after Namjoon, turning off the single light bulb and closing the door behind him. They meet with Jin and Hoseok at the front of the staff cottage and walk around the manor towards the front door. It’s just a little after six, a good time to arrive back from ‘work’. Jin flicks sawdust off of Yoongi’s shirt and gets ready to open the front door when it opens from the inside. 

Jimin stands there, a stormy look on his face. 

“What’s up?” Hoseok asks.

Jimin's frowns deepens but then he shakes his head and the look passes. “Nothing. Welcome back.” The dinner bell rings and Jin gives Jimin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, not even sure why he did it. He pushes past the younger guy and runs into you in the hallway. 

“Welcome home,” you greet him and Jin’s heart blossoms out despite the concerned look on Jimin’s face earlier. He only briefly wonders about what made Jimin look like that but that would have to wait until later. They all have parts to play.

~~~

It’s a Friday night and after dinner, Jin had the brilliant idea for a game of Monopoly so we, along with Karma, piled into the living room. Summer is creeping in so we had the windows open, giving us a great view of the starry sky outside.

I’m reminded of Jungkook’s story and decide to ask. “Are you going to finish the story? The one about the eight lovers.”

Jungkook picks up the car token piece and inspects it, hefting it in his palm. “I will if you want me to,” he says nonchalantly.

I joined him at the table picking up the cat piece and Karma sniffs it. He turns away in disinterest and hops up onto the sofa’s armrest, licking his paws. “I want to hear more, You barely scratched the surface of that story,” I say, placing the pewter cat at the start box. “Should we play in teams? Eight people on the board feels too crowded, don’t you think?”

The boys gather around and we are divided into four teams by using the palm-up or palm-down selection method; Namjoon with Taehyung, Yoongi with Jungkook, Jimin with Jin and Hoseok with me. Four moving pieces are removed from the board, leaving behind only the duck, the cat, the shoe and the car lining up in the starting box respectively according to our turns. 

Before the game starts, there’s an obvious tension in the air. Jimin isn’t as cheerful as usual and Jin looks like he’s geared up to win with Jungkook and Namjoon both egging each other on. I’ve only played this game back in school, never really liking how things always end after the game finished, or sometimes didn’t even get to finish before someone threw a fit and walked away. Hoseok is whispering which plot he already wants to buy. 

And then the game begins and turns into the longest Monopoly game I’ve ever played. Four hours later, I’m sitting back against the sofa with Karma at my shoulder, watching in both surprise and wonder as the boys literally scream at each other, arguing for the tenth time that night about why Jin should just let them pass without having to pay the toll of being in his plot and Jin insisting that everybody should play fair because they haven’t given him a pass. At this point, I’ve somewhat given up with only two hundred and fifty dollars in my hand and Jin ruling the board. 

The game is practically over but none of them wants to back down. Even Yoongi is yelling and louder than I’ve seen him, smiling until his eyes disappear and his gums show. The play-fighting escalates a little more with both Namjoon and Jin standing up, aggressively pointing at the board and bickering. It’s not until Karma stretches, leaning against my shoulder with both paws, and jumps straight onto the middle of the board.

Mreeoowww!

It stops the fight as they watch Karma start swiping at all the pieces on the board, going off to chase the pewter tokens that clang to the floor in all directions. 

Yoongi stands up. “Finally I can go to the bathroom,” he announces and hurries out. The others clean up, except for Jungkook who’s entertaining the cat by flicking one of the moving tokens around on the floor and letting Karma chase it. The cat, to his credit, looks up once at Jungkook, giving him a reproachful look, like he knew what Jungkook was doing. But the cat in him can’t resist chasing after shiny things that make noises so under the sofa he dove, Jungkook cackling in satisfaction as Karma’s half end sticks out, tails wiggling. 

The room explodes in laughter. Karma comes out, gives us all the stink eye and leaves the room, tails held high. I’d give him some treats later, I think. 

Yoongi still hasn’t come back and am about to wonder about it more when Jin takes out a deck of cards and starts shuffling it like a pro dealer. “Alright, anyone up for Old Maid?”

~~~

Another lie to add to the long list of lies, Yoongi thinks as he takes the stairs two at a time, stepping lightly so as to not make a sound. 

Upon leaving the living room, he didn’t, in fact, go to the bathroom but headed upstairs to sneak into your room as quietly as he could. He pulls out the measuring tape from his pocket and gets to work getting the measurements he needs to build the cat tower. You had shown him which corner you wanted it in and it didn't take long for him to mark down the length and width, taking into account the placement of the windows and coming up with ideas as he worked. 

He’s staring at the corner, ideas filling his head, slowly backing up to have a wider view when he accidentally kicks the wastebasket. He could’ve sworn that the basket had always been under your desk but straightened it up where he found it, tossing in all the crumpled up papers and bits of plastic packaging. One of them catches his attention and he fishes out it again, opening it up.

He recognises the drawing just as much as he knows the artist himself, studying the sketch with admiration for the talent and a hint of dread at what it is. It’s you. But not quite you. That’s how Yoongi can put it. Taehyung had sketched out a waist shot of you but the you on the paper had longer hair down to your hips, with braided pieces around your head like a crown and small flowers sticking in them. The clothes are also not of this era. Again, Yoongi is amazed by Taehyung’s drawing because it’s clearly you but not you, even he could tell.

The sketch itself is innocent, easily explained away but Yoongi can’t help but feel it risky. Have you seen it? Did Taehyung throw it away after drawing it or did you after seeing it? Nevertheless, he quickly stuffs it into his pocket. He takes one last measurement of the space for the cat tower and hurries back downstairs. He wants to know why Taehyung had drawn it. 

~~~

Yoongi comes back in and situates himself on the sofa, behind me, his legs in between me and Hoseok.

I hold up my last two cards to Hoseok and both Yoongi and I watch him pick out the Joker. Hoseok doesn’t seem to get the whole poker face down very well so the groan escaping his lips isn’t masked and everyone can instantly tell what happened. With the card from Taehyung, I make my last pair and end my game, sitting back to watch, painfully aware how close Yoongi’s knee is to my face. 

He’s leaning against his knees, hands clasped together, looking over Hoseok’s shoulder. My senses are amped up now I can even feel the hairs on my neck standing up every time he moves. I hold still, making sure I don’t move from my spot, almost statically sitting there, hearing myself breathing. I keep my eyes on them playing cards and realise I can tell immediately who has the Joker everytime it moves. It’s subtle but easy to spot; the little twitch of the corner of Taehyung’s lips, the immediate way Jimin schools his face to stay nonchalant, and Namjoon’s multiple blinking as he rearranges his cards.

 Hoseok is hopeless but Jin is a complete master, both on the far opposite sides of the scale. 

Mrs Oliviera comes in, carting what looks like a tea set. She’s wearing a face mask and doesn’t stay long, leaving immediately after spying Karma in the room. Yoongi gets up, maybe to pour out the tea, but he swings his hands down as he stands, hitting me squarely in the face. 

“Ouch!”

He gasps and drops down to his knees, cupping my cheeks, turning my face this way and that as if to inspect the damage. “I’m so sorry, baby. Where does it hurt?”

He must have noticed my surprise look because now we’re just frozen, staring at each other, his hands still on my face. His touch is starting to feel warm against my skin but I’m entranced looking into his eyes. He has such pretty eyes, honest and clear, like he had nothing to hide. But everything that I see contradicts everything I’ve been telling myself; that my feelings and interest only go one way. And I’m terrified because the one thing I want right now, so much so that it feel like I’m being pulled forward, is to fucking kiss him. 

~~~

He fucked up and he’s not sure how to backpedal this one, not when you’re giving him the kiss me look and having to spar with his very being to not lean in because fuck it, he really does want to, too. 

What happens if he does? What happens if he doesn’t hold back, if he kisses you there and then? Would it be such a sin? Would their lives all go into a screeching halt? Just a kiss. If he leans in just a fraction he’s sure you won’t hesitate either. Could he? Should he? 

“Should I get the first-aid kit?”

The silence is broken and so is the little bubble that has enveloped you and Yoongi. He finally pulls his hands away from your face and you let out a nervous, awkward laugh at Jin’s little jab. Yoongi turns around and the others are looking at him with playful small smiles, teasing almost, but subtle for your sake who look like you’re not even sure where to look. 

Jin peers at you, furrowing his eyebrows. “I think Yoongi almost knocked your eyes out. Are you sure you're okay?” That manages to fish out a small laugh from you and the tension is diffused. You shake your head hard enough that your hair falls over your face, probably to hide how crimson your cheeks are but Jin doesn’t call attention to it. 

“Whoa, look!”

Everyone turns to Namjoon who is crouching next to the cart. He’s holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand. “I might change my mind about Ollie,” he says, grinning. At the bottom of the cart are some selections of nightcap liquor, a few bottles that look like they came from the collection cabinet in the other room that Yoongi cherishes. Only you and Taehyung opt for the tea. 

“I want to go shopping tomorrow,” you suddenly announce to the room. “I need more summer clothes. Does anyone want to accompany me?”

~~~

Honestly, I blurted that out to fill in the silence of the room. It felt a little awkward especially after the whole thing with Yoongi earlier; he moved to sit across from me instead but I can barely look at him.

“I think I need summer clothes, too,” Taehyung responds. “I’ll go with you.”

One by one they start agreeing to the same thing. They toss around clothing ideas, talking about which one of them would be perfect for what style and I have to say, I’m a little confused. All the ideas they come up with are styles that were big in the late eighties. I chalk it up as their preference but I can’t shake how strange it feels to be hearing a group of young men talking about fashion trends that way outdated them. But trends are always in circles anyway, so maybe I was the one that was not up to speed. 

“Are you guys into retros?” I ask after listening to them talk. They give me a confused look and I’m growing even more puzzled. “You’re all talking about fashion from the eighties so I thought…”

There’s a short silence as they look around at each other before Jin starts laughing, slapping his thigh. “It’s a joke! We’re just messing around! Won’t it be funny to see us in those styles?”

“I guess,” I say hesitantly. “But you’d probably need to check out thrift stores for those types of clothes instead. Could be interesting to check out if that’s what you like.”

 There’s a murmur of agreement and what they think about it but they don’t sound convincing enough, like they’re not even sure of what they’re saying. It’s very odd. “Is everything okay? You guys are acting weird,” I noted, somewhat a little annoyed.

~~~

Hoseok doesn’t even realise that his palms are growing clammier by the second, placed rigidly on his lap like he’s too tense to move. 

The talk about clothes earlier had brought them into a dangerous territory, forgetting that eras had passed since the last time they had this same freedom. They should have known better, too, because didn’t Ollie tell them about this when they had shopped online earlier in the month? Old habits die hard but unlearning things is even harder, especially when general knowledge is ever-changing. 

Jin’s joke excuse had been a lame one, a desperate one, but he can’t really blame the guy since he was the only one quick-thinking enough to come up with something on the spot while they all acted like deer in headlights. And being caught off guard like that left them scrambling, incoherently mumbling random things to support Jin while reeling themselves from the realisation that, yes, times have changed. Hoseok can even see the confusion on their faces, the slow grasp that time has moved on and moved on fast since the last time they even cared about clothes.

“You guys are acting weird,” you say, sounding annoyed and Hoseok cringes a little inside. That distant part of him, that only wants to come clean, is fighting to throw up the truth but he swallows it down because what can he say? That they haven’t gone clothes shopping since the eighties? Sounds reasonable enough if they were elderly retired men living off of their pensions. The struggle is literally clawing against his ribcage and he sits there, unable to ease your annoyance.

But Yoongi, the calm and collected one among them, speaks up. “We just haven’t done much shopping lately. We’re not even sure what’s in now.” He gives a light chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. 

The truth but not the whole truth. It came mostly from a place where Yoongi is compensating for the lies, disregarding that omitting facts is still deception but that’s something they’ll address another time. Your look of annoyance swiftly shifts into one of guilt and Hoseok feels his stomach twist at that. It’s so hard when there’s a barrier between you and them and being unable to give assurance or comfort directly when you need it. Hoseok’s hands curl into fists. 

~~~

Right. How fucking careless was I to forget that not everybody has the luxury to shop anytime and anything they want. 

Mentally, I’m kicking myself for forgetting the fact that these men are housing with me temporarily for financial reasons and not realising sooner that trivial topics like shopping and fashion might not be at the forefront of their minds. But then again, most times they act like normal young dudes that know cars and talk about vastly different topics at the dinner table that I keep putting us all together in the same group. 

We’re not. 

They are my tenants, albeit not paying a dime, and I’m their host. They all are charming, intelligent men that know more than they let on and I’m just this bumbling idiot that’s running away from a past I want to forget. Standing side by side with them, any outsider can clearly see that we don’t belong together, not when they look like princes who jumped out of those fairytale books I grew up with and then resented because life doesn’t always have happy endings. 

I feel guilty for being annoyed with their awkward attitude earlier and the realisation that I had misunderstood. “Sorry,” I mumble, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Don’t apologise,” Hoseok reassures, although he still looks a little tense. “So what time shall we leave tomorrow?”

***

Everybody went to bed once the plan for tomorrow was set.

I go up to my room and find Karma perched on the windowsill, looking out, his twin tails dangling over the edge. He doesn’t even turn around when I approach him, looking at something in the distance towards the forest. I scratch his head and run my hand down his back, trying to see if there’s anything over there that caught his attention. Other than the moving trees in the wind, the night seems peaceful.

��Do you miss being outside?” I ask quietly, still petting him. “Did I take you away from something important?”

The cat only continues to purr under my touch. As I’m about to turn away, my eyes catch Karma’s reflection in the window and my breath hitches. Through the glass, my cat is looking straight at me. Any other look probably would have been fine; cats see reflections, too. But this look, the piercing blue-yellow of his eyes, seems to rattle me to my core by how cognizant it is, calculative, like he’s thinking of something. It’s the kind of a look a person gives you when they have something to say to you but chose not to. 

Then Karma looks away, licks at his paw and jumps off the sill to curl up into his own bed. I stare after him, reeling from that weird incident. Someone pushes open my bedroom door gingerly, and Jimin’s blond head peeks in. His smile evaporates the moment he sees my face and opens the door all the way, coming over in four big strides. 

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft, peering at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say with a shake of my head. “I thought I saw something.”

Jimin’s forehead dips. “You saw something?”

I shake my head more firmly this time. “No, I didn’t. I thought I did. It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

~~~

But Jimin does worry.

He contemplates pushing the matter further to make you fess up but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he accepts your dismissal. 

“Did you need something?”

It’s Jimin’s turn to shake his head. “Just wanted to say good night, actually.”

“Oh.” Are you blushing? Jimin couldn’t tell because you had turned away immediately to pull the curtains closed. “Well, good night, Jimin.”

Jimin’s smile widens. “Good night. I hope you have a good sleep.”

“You too,” you say, turning around to smile at him. 

He nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. He walks across the hallway into Jin’s bedroom and the sound of the door closing makes Jin look up from straightening his bedsheet. He pats the edge of the bed, signalling for Jimin to sit. The younger man does as he’s told and Jin proceeds to snuggle under the blanket instead. Upon seeing that, Jimin jokingly squeezes in next to him but Jin only opens the blanket wider to make space for Jimin to get in. They rest their heads on one pillow and Jimin giggles. 

“So what was it that you needed to talk about?”

Jimin grows quiet, staring up at the ceiling. He’s wondering if he has the right to discuss what you told him earlier today with any of the others but it weighs too heavy on his heart right now to keep it to himself. He understands well that the others would want to know everything, especially things regarding you, but he also knows them like the back of his hand; they will surely show it in their behaviours and expressions and you will know he has broken your trust. Not that you ever told him to keep a secret but he thinks he’s morally obligated to, until you tell him otherwise. 

But Jin might be a safe bet. He’s the least emotional and the best at keeping things nonchalant. He considered Yoongi at first but even that poker-faced man breaks easier with you so Jimin decided not to risk it.  He takes a deep breath and plunges in and Jin listens intently, not saying a word throughout the time Jimin recounts the things you told him.

 The longer Jin listens, the stormier his face gets, eyebrows furrowing so deeply they might connect into one. Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it and if Jimin isn’t holding onto his arm like his life depended on it, Jin would have gotten out of bed, taken the car keys and driven through the night. To where, he’s not sure but he has an idea of where to look people up.

a/n: We're back! I'm still in the middle of a hectic (and will only get more hectic) period. I got a new job in another city so the next couple of months is going to be a stressful one. I'm hoping to still be able to write and update but I can't promise a timeline T_T anyway, lmk in the comments or messages what you think of this chapter!

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