#and made so many new friends and had lots of (mis)adventures this was so so special

[marbofmoorock]

I'm just gonna make a short story based on this incredible art:

TADC SIDE ADVENTURE: A New Girl in Town, Droppin' in

Today, in the Amazing Digital Circus, Caine decides to give everyone a day off. Much to everyone's surprise, everyone walks off relieved, doing something fun with their time. Jax goes to his room to play video games, Pomni hangs out with Kinger in his pillow fort, and Gangle and Zooble go have fun together. Everyone's got something to do, except Ragatha.

She was looking forward to this adventure today, as Caine had hinted she would meet ai doll characters just like her. Ragatha had wanted to meet other ai that looked like her, but sadly, she's the only toy doll amongst the cast.

Caine takes note of Ragatha's sadness and decides to check on her.

"HELLO MY DEAR! YOU SEEM QUITE GLUM FOR SOMEONE WHO FOUND OUT SHE'S GOT A DAY OFF. I CAN APPRECIATE SOMEONE WHO LOVES MY ADVENTURES ENOUGH TO MISS THEM, BUT WHY THE LONG FACE, RAGATHA? YOU'RE USUALLY SO UPBEAT!"

Ragatha looks over at Caine, then back at the floor as she holds her arm with her other arm.

"Well Caine, I...didn't know that the Doll adventure would be cancell-"

"NOT TO WORRY MY DEAR! I ONLY CANCELED IT FOR THE OTHER MEMBERS, I WANTED TO PUT YOU ASIDE BECAUSE THIS ADVENTURE IS FOR YOU EXCLUSIVELY!!!"

Ragatha gasped, her expression went from sad to shocked in an instant, then to joyful.

"No way..."

"YESSS WAAAAAAAY," said Caine, delighted to see Ragatha's mood changed for the better, " You're in for a real surprise this time! Your mission is to make A friend! Have fun!"

Caine snaps open a portal, gesturing Ragatha to enter. Surprised that Caine would set her aside for an adventure was so riveting, thought Ragatha as she enters the portal.

On the other side, Ragatha finds she's in a giant room, or perhaps she's super tiny. Regardless, she saw other dolls all over this large room. Some of them were her size, others were smaller, then there were plenty of other toys, but most of them were dolls of various kinds, from barbies, to Bratz, to lalaloopsy, strawberry shortcake and many others. Ragatha was so shocked at how many dolls there were, noticing how beautiful they looked, appearing more human-like and pretty. As Ragatha looked at her ragdoll arms for a moment, a hint of insecurity passed her, interrupted by one of the smaller dolls with blonde hair her size, who approached her.

"Hey there. You must be the new doll. My name's Milly Milkshake. Come with me." She holds Ragatha's hand with her own plastic one, and Ragatha follows, feeling accepted and happy knowing someone in this wild you city of fashion and plastic fantastic would want to welcome her, a ragdoll.

She guides her to another side of the room, past many other characters and dollhouses, some being built, while some are fully lived in. "This is amazing," Ragatha thought out loud.

"It's pretty cool, I guess. There's a lot of mean dollies here, so it's good I found you first. There are too many mean girlies here, and I wouldn't want you to be bullied on your visit."

Ragatha listens intently, reminded of her past life when she was bullied out of loving her horse toys when she was very young, often missing them.

Milly brings Ragatha to her smaller dollhouse and they go inside. It's like a house and an ice cream Parlor rolled into one, Milly lives up to her name, I guess, thought Ragatha.

"Well, this is it, mi casa ea su casa, as Espinza, my other doll friend, would say. Make yourself at home." Milly says, gesturing to the comfy looking sofa.

Ragatha sits down and she makes Milkshakes for both of them, and just chat. Ragatha spends a lot of time with Milly, enjoying a good time with her. They talked for hours, played tea parties, they even rode on the larger toy horses, which made Ragatha very happy.

While Ragatha was hyperaware of how NPCs and Ai often forget about you quickly, she made the most of it, happy to be around other dolls. Milly gives her a gift of mini toy horses Ragatha can keep in her room. This brings Ragatha to tears and she hugs Milly really tightly.

"OH THANK YOU...I...have never been given such a gift before...I love it...*sniff*...Thank you..."

Milly smiled, accepting her hug and hugging her back for the longest time: "You're never alone Ragatha. I'll always be right here, okay?" She gestures to her chest where her heart is, "I'll miss you."

"...Me too..." Says Ragatha, crying loudly as Milly had been so nice to her.

They eventually end the hug, and Ragatha walks through the portal back to the circus.

Caine congratulates Ragatha for completing her adventure and sends her off to her room to rest and cool off.

With her new toy horses and tears in her eyes, Ragatha cries with joy, as her heart warms at the thought of Milly and her kindness. In her honor, she relives her childhood memories and plays with horses yet again.

The End.

I had this AU idea where a new member joins the digital circus and it’s a doll. But unlike Ragatha who is a ragdoll she’s like a perfect barbie like doll. And she makes Ragatha feel insecure. Like she has two eyes, full hands, perfect hair, a pretty face, etc. And fears that everyone prefers her, especially Jax. And grows worried that Jax will go on to play with another doll instead and her bored of her. Inspired by Prom Dress.

[thetrunkofmymind]

i have seen fall out boy three times in two weeks, in two different countries… i have ascended to previously undiscovered levels of not being normal about them <3

[calxwallace]

THE FOOL

The Fool tarot card is the number 0 of the Major Arcana, which stands for unlimited potential. To see the Fool card generally indicates that you’re on the verge of an unexpected and exciting new adventure in your daily life. This may require you to take a blind leap of faith.There will be a rewarding experience that will contribute to your growth as a human being. The new adventure could be literal and may involve traveling to a new land or territories you’ve never visited.

STATISTICS

FULL NAME : Calliope Edith Wallace ALIAS : Cal, Cali AGE : 32 DATE  OF  BIRTH : March 25th, 1992 HOMETOWN : Detroit, MI, USA TIME IN EAST HAVEN : Since august 2010 RESIDENCE : Cresthill Meadows FACECLAIM : Elizabeth Lail

trigger warning: kidnapping, death by suicide, abandonment, abuse

EDUCATION : Medicine at Chapman University in Kismet Harbor OCCUPATION : Forensic Pathologist at KH Police Department. GENDER : Cis-Female PRONOUNS : She/her SEXUALITY : Pansexual. HAIR COLOUR : Blonde/Light brown EYE  COLOUR : Green HEIGHT : 5'8" BUILD : Slim. ACCENT : American. LANGUAGES : English, Latin (medical terms) TATTOOS : Butterfly tattoo on her neck SCENT: Dior ZODIAC : Aries LOVE LANGUAGE : Words of affirmation, physical touch. CLOTHING: High fitted jeans and shirts, mostly with text or logo's

CONDITIONS : None ALLERGIES : None EATING HABITS : Loves cooking so she takes her time to meal prep whenever she doesn't work. Always has a snack handy. EXERCISE HABITS : Pilates SLEEPING HABITS : Fast sleeper, snores a little, Likes sleeping on her back. Always cold. ADDICTIONS : None DRUG  USE : None. ALCOHOL USE : Yes

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Intelligent, adaptable, strongwilled. NEGATIVE TRAITS : resentful, stubborn, demanding PHOBIAS : Claustrophobic FEARS : Ending up alone. HOBBIES : clubbing, puzzles, cleaning HABITS : tapping her foot on the ground, biting her nails, picking on her clothes. USUAL DEMEANOUR: Happy

FATHER : Thomas Wallace MOTHER : Marilyn Wallace SIBLINGS : Giovanna Wallace, TBD Wallace RELATIONSHIPS: Molly Zhuang (2013-2016), Levi Steele-Hutchinson(2018-2020), Josiah Huddington (2020-2021) CHILDREN : None PETS : None

BIOGRAPHY

Calliope was born third into the Wallace household of what would eventually make the family be graced by three children, two girls and one boy. The family was existent of nothing but love and respect, creating a safe and warm household. Calliope could bury herself in the many books that the household contained, even if Calliope only liked the pictures at such a young age. She would make a pillow fortress under her father's desk or read in her big sister's bed.

Calliope was always a studious child. An inquisitive nature as soon as she was able to crawl around, much to the terror of her parents. She was friendly to whomever would come across her path, making a lot of friends from a very young age, despite the warnings of her parents about stranger danger. Yet if there is anything Calliope's life would prove to her, it's that it's the ones closest to you that betray you and let you down.

At the mere age of five, the Wallace household collapsed. Giovanna's kidnapping was followed by grim atmospheres. Calliope barely saw her parents smile anymore, instead crying as they kept giving interviews and statements about wanting their daughter back. Within a year, Calliope hadn't just lost her sister, but she had to watch how two coffins were lowered into the ground, as the guilt and remorse had been too much too handle for her parents to handle, leaving behind their other two children.

Calliope and her brother ended up with their aunt and uncle, who from the get go made it clear to the two that they weren't happy with their presence, as they wouldn't be able to live their life of traveling anymore and instead taking care of two brats they never even wanted to have. Their abuse was manageable at first, since Calliope had her brother. The shouting, the evenings without dinner, the smack on the heads and backs. Never the legs and arms. The two siblings held their heads down, focusing on school work playing with dolls with each other.

Calliope was too young at that time, unaware that her sister had escaped and that her aunt and uncle had refused to take her in and was instead cast away to a godmother of theirs. This was only relied to her later on by her brother when she was older. Calliope never really had an opinion. It had been her and her brother for so long, for the most of her recollection that she had her most important person with her. That all changed when her brother decided to run away from home when she was eleven, leaving her alone with her abusers. The punishment got worse. Involuntary haircuts, locking her up in the broom closet and being terrorised during the night so that she wouldn't get any sleep.

Her anger got her through it. The anger and hatred towards her 'caretakers' for how they treated her. Towards her brother for abandoning her, towards her parents for choosing the easy way out and leave behind their son and daughter to fend for themselves and to her sister, who was the cause for all of this. She endured, trying her best not to show her aunt and uncle that they were winning, that she was terrified of confined spaces, even trying as much as to appease her uncle who was the less terrible of the two, but this only angered her aunt, who at one point even shaved off the girl's head. Luckily for Calliope, this was prior to the summer break, so she wouldn't have to face the bullying of her classmates. At the end of the summer break, Calliope made a run for it. She grabbed whatever little she had and ran from the home she had grown up in for more years than she had spent in her parental home, fleeing to the house of her best friend.

Her best friend was raised by a single teen mother, who understood the reality of an abusive home and the knowledge that should it be reported, Calliope would be put in child protective services. The woman had threatened her aunt and uncle to receive the child support payments or else she would report them, but they had laughed in her face, knowing that she wouldn't pull through on her threat. The woman didn't have enough funds to spend extra's on her daughter's friend, which Calliope didn't expect. she would focus on her school, be given clothes to wear from her friend so she wouldn't have old rags to wear, walk paper rounds until she was old enough to have actual sidejobs, earning more money for her savings account. She focused on her studies, wanting to do what her father did, forensic pathology and honour him in that way. She was fierce on the soccer field, even earning her a scholarship come graduation. It was both her will and her rage that got her where she was. Persevering against a traumatic childhood that left its traces here and there.

Moving to Kismet Harbor for college was exciting. It was a new start for the woman, far away from her abusers and a chance for a clean slate. She felt whole among her peers, thriving in her soccer team where she functioned as the keeper. With the inheritance she received upon reaching the adult age, she was able to pay off some of her student loans, managing the rest with part time jobs cleaning at people's homes. It wasn't enough to pay it all off, but at least enough to let her live a life where she didn't have to live dime after dime.

Graduating out of college, Calliope was excited by the prospect of getting a job at the coroner's office straight out of school, moving into an apartment with her college best friend. Her personal life was good, so was her work life, Calliope was the life at parties and her love life was picking up as well. She had her heart broken, which added to her trust issues that made it harder for her to let someone in. She hadn't expected to find it in Josiah Huddington however. A police officer she often worked with and was friends with. Somehow the man had sneaked his way into her life, sending her heart all aflutter at the sight of him.

It was when Calliope learned her sister had come into town in 2021 that she was frightened of the prospect of him learning about her past, which she had kept close to her chest, aside from Riley, her college best friend. So she had broken up with him, breaking both their hearts in the process. Calliope managed to keep a distance to her sister in the meanwhile, not having run into her and create awkward moments. she's not ready to face her sister and dig up the hatred she had pushed down upon leaving Detroit, afraid that that would be the end of her bright personality that she had slowly rediscovered upon her freedom rediscovered at eighteen. That's a process she doesn't want to lose.

[tohruhondaismydaughter]

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

[queitghoulwhispering]

Rue

It's a nickname of my username, she was orignally an animal crossing ver. of me made up by a friend inspired by my vibe/personality

Minks existing makes the transition easier than you think. Her overall attitude is more suited to that than animal crossing anyway XD.

So many, but if i had to pick one: Demon Kitty Rag by Katzenjammer

Devil's Carnival. Loves Arthouse and musicals.

Her personality is a very "love it or hate it" so she's accidentally made some social mistakes and lost a few friends.

First opening night of the Cerberus concert hall.

Spiced roast beef

Bartolomeo or Law

Literally any marine, she's a smuggler. The fact that ppl have to have essentially medication and shit shipped via smuggling bc of embargos or just the official channels being too damn expensive pisses her off.

Singing and dancing.

Cooking and cleaning. She tries T-T

Her paw coloration were orignally lovely maryjanes and socks but le-poofe made her barefoot and i love her interpretation of her lil feets so i kept it that way. dress shoes are often unnecessary uncomfortable. normalize barefoot in a sundress.

Rue once had a marine show up for a "surprise" inspection while they were unloading cargo. the fucking mission impossible stealth shenanigans her crew and herself had to pull to complete the deal XD. Now they do it during concert hours/when advertising so no one notices.

If she's not currently seeing anyone, yes!

Sugar

It's a pun that came up when making her, someone commented that she's "sweet as sugar" in opposite to my personality lmao. And I love a good roast.

Love fire elementals, will find a way to include in any universe. So i just made it that devil fruit users have a teeny tiny chance to inherit some of their ancestors abilities. tada!

When the Day met the Night by panic! at the disco

Anastasia, loves the music

That her cousins and siblings all went out adventuring. She hasn't heard from them since. She blames herself for not convincing them to stay and run the family tavern.

Finally establishing total neutrality in her establishment, it took a lot of work, but if people have beef, they take it outside.

Cupcakes!!!!

I think she's focused a bit on the business, but I head-canon Crocodile meeting up and discovering you're never too old for a crush XD. He wins her over eventually.

Blackbeard, he's always starting shit.

Coming up with different mixed drinks/dishes to satisfy a variety of customers. If they don't mind the time it takes to make something "off the menu" she'll try to accommodate.

Fighting. Not that she's not powerful, she is, but she's very... imprecise. She'll set your ship on fire without meaning to if they get her angry enough.

Her flames are malleable, her hair can be literally sculpted into a variety of forms and styles.

She tried to throw someone out of her bar and chucked them into the sea from where her bar was. Like I said, she's very strong, but very imprecise. Luckily a few incidents like that (coupled with the fact that it was always the marines that started the fights, up until Blackbeard suddenly grew balls, but that was a while after) that they declared her bar and island neutral territory for the most part.

Absolutely, Crocodile takes forever to win her over.

Wren

She's based off the bird, and that bird is adorable with an adorable name. Also, she was originally going to be nonbinary, and wren is such a enby name, don't you think? So cute!

Tori tori no mis exist, and with bird devil fruits and shandians being a thing, I came up with a fun race similar to minks that view shandians like minks view humans. They think they're the same species ^w^

House Wren by Owl City

You'd think it'd be Kiki's Delivery Service, but it's actually Spirited Away.

Not leaving her island sooner, it took so long for her to work up the courage to chase her dreams.

Being hired by Big News Morgan, someone who works outside of the all the different complicated political systems of the world. Huge relief.

Anything new! She loves sampling local cuisine. Even if the taste or texture doesn't agree with her, she still values the experience.

I ship her with Jinbei, he's not likely to suggest they settle down, they both like to wander, and he probably has fantastic stories for her to document. Since his canonically preferred devil fruit is a tori tori no mi, he'd probably be fascinated by her wings. Two very different people loving their differences and similarities equally.

Enel and Blackbeard. Hears about Enel from Shandian cousins and is very very enraged. Blackbeard because she was picked up by the Whitebeard Pirates early on in her adventure when she got caught in a storm.

They are a extremely fast flyer, faster than any ship. She has a side hustle delivering packages and letters along the grand line.

Swimming, her wings are not waterproof, if they get too waterlogged they hurt she has a specific way of bathing, and communal baths were common on her island.

The way she fights, she can separate feathers from her wings and duplicate them and then shoot them at enemies. There's a limit on how many times she can do this, feathers take a while to regrow, but they are deadly when shot at the incredible high speeds she does. And she's very precise. Flying around at high speeds on the regular means she has very good vision.

Not learning proper navigation i.e. weather forecasting before starting out made her get caught in a hell of a storm. She got rescued by the Whitebeard Pirates after a "chase" which was really a misunderstanding on her part over their intentions. She was a very soggy miserable little thing that night. Her wings took ages to get dry and the feathers set straight enough to fly again.

She'd be very blushy, but yes!

REBLOG THIS AND TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OC(s) IN THE TAGS

TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OC(s)

If you don't know what to start with:

why that name?

why that universe?

what's the song that speaks to you about them?

What's their favorite movie?

What's their biggest regret?

What's their HAPPIEST moment?

What's their favorite food?

Who do they love?

Who do they hate?

What are they good at?

What are they bad at?

TELL ME THE COOLEST THING ABOUT THEM THAT NO ONE EVER ASKS ABOUT

Tell me the dumbest fucking shit they've messed up, or aren't good at

Can I smooch them?

[opashoo]

Oh I have SO many questions about Amelie, feel free to answer any or none of these:

- What music does she like? What's her favourite song?

- I'd like to learn about her backstory in general but how did she become a were-hare?

- Also how/when did she realize she was trans?

- Any memorable reactions from her revealing her hare form to people? (Good or bad)

- Amelie's favorite music is probably in line with the Tooth & Tail soundtrack if you've ever heard it, which would probably be the kind of music she grew up with. Her favorite songs would probably be The Siege of Ragfall Road, and an unrelated song, A Ghaoil Leig Dhachaidh Gum Mhathair Mi (Lover Let Me Home to My Mother) which is a song in Scottish Gaelic about a woman who fell in love with and married a kelpie, but is forbidden by the kelpie from returning home. The song's lyrics are her pleading and bargaining to be allowed to return home.

- So Amelie's transness and werehare-ness are actually sort of related and both have to do with her meddling in fey affairs. If you want her backstory in written form, I have it posted above. Aside from that, she was not aware that she was trans before adulthood, or if she had some kind of inkling she didn't have the vocabulary or understanding to really put words to it or concretely pin down the feelings. It was when the fey that she'd been doing favors for offered to let her change her body and name that something clicked and she knew exactly what she wanted and got it immediately. (Bear in mind that at this time, she was still human)

Her werehare-ness was actually a curse bestowed on her by a powerful fey lord who had become jealous and resentful of Amelie's meddling. As a storyteller who learned to deal with fey through legends and fairy tales, a lot of magical creatures she worked for found it flattering, how well she knew their stories and by extension how well she knew their needs and desires. This did not please the lord, who decided to curse Amelie with her werehare form and instincts because when hares appear as the main characters of fables or lessons, they tend to be witless or arrogant, and usually end up losing. Even now after learning to control her form and reign in her hare instincts (most of which are anxieties and fears) she still has to deal with some powerful phobias rearing their heads (like her devastating fear of birds of prey).

- One of the first things Amelie does when she hits the road with someone new is reveal her hare form because that's the form she spends her time travelling and fighting in. This reveal is important because it vets the people she's travelling with; she can't stay in her human form and risk provoking a violent reaction from her travelling partners if they get attacked and she's forced to take on her hare form. However, she can risk revealing it immediately upon leaving town because she trusts in her ability to run very fast and very far should her partners get aggressive or otherwise.

The worst reaction she ever had to deal with was when she was enlisted alongside several other monster hunters of varying experience for a job hunting a pack of werewolves that had been predating and terrorizing merchant caravans in the area. Upon revealing her hare form, she was immediately met with unease, but one of the less experienced hunters convinced the others that Amelie must have been put up to the task by the werewolves to lure the other hunters into a trap. They successfully restrained her, but later that night, when they meant to interrogate her, she managed to just barely escape under cover of darkness. She hasn't been back to that city since.

Her favorite reaction is probably the time she and her adventurering party at the time were helping to usher a group of refugees to safety. There was a kind of trust and wonder that they looked at her with as she recounted her most hopeful fairy tales on the walk. It felt like the best possible time to be something otherworldly, to help these people feel like something mystical was on their side.

The most baffling reaction is probably the time she was hired to escort a caravan of magical researchers between cities. Upon revealing her hare form to them, rather than being met by judgement or fear, she was immediately assailed with all sorts of questions (some more invasive than others) about her her habits, anatomy, medical and magical history, and other things. She got to spend most of the trip riding the carriage in her underwear while one researcher took detailed drawings and another occasionally asked her questions. She just considers it a blessing that they weren't attacked while she was naked.

Links to the songs, also (I just didn't want to fuck with mobile's formatting, I already had to retype a chunk because the formatting ate it)

[callmeruffie]

freshman blues

in my early teenage days, when i pictured being a college freshman, i painted a very idealistic and exciting picture for myself. people i knew - and even those i only knew through social media - always made college seem like such an exciting point to be in one's life; yes, the horror stories of theses, recitations, and terror professors were still there, but to me, i saw the glitz and glamor and (mis)adventures; i saw the parties, the drinking, the shenanigans with friends. no adult supervision and people on the cusp of adulthood. as a kid who grew up with strict parents, all that seemed like the forbidden fruit in the garden of eden - something within my grasp that i so desperately wanted to taste. 

when the pandemic hit, everything i hoped for and craved changed. i spent my last year of high school online. in retrospect, the experience wasn't all bad. in fact, looking back on it now, i think i was genuinely happen during certain periods of that school year. i attribute that happiness mainly to my friends. i had a good number of them in senior high - a grand majority within my own block, and many more in other blocks. all of us were under the same strand. in senior high, everything felt small and intimate (at least for me). we were a community - shared trauma, shared joys. i was comfortable in senior high. it felt like the place for me. 

in the weeks before going into college, i felt this lingering anxiety and dread. some of my peers probably share my sentiments; it's a new environment with completely new people, and with a heavier academic burden. it's completely normal to feel that way. my anxiousness started when i started joining group chats. there are so many, i'm still overwhelmed - a groupchat for the block, for the freshmen, for all the freshmen with upperclassmen. so many spaces where people were socializing and getting to know each other. so many spaces where my anxiety grew with each person who spouted about their political ideologies. so many times where i felt inadequate and out of place, and classes hadn't even officially started yet. 

in high school, things seemed so small in retrospect, even if they probably weren't physically. in junior high, seniors didn't seem so far above us; some of them were just as immature and chidlish as the freshmen. in senior high, our upperclassmen were only a year older than us; some of them didn't like being called kuya or ate. now, in college, the seniors seem so intimidating. they've been through a lot. they've seen some shit. they're a year away from being thrown into the world of taxes and bills and actual financial responsibilities. when i introduced myself to them in a google meet, i stuttered and paused and didn't say anything cohesive. as someone who's usually calm and composed and sure of what she wants to say, the experience felt so foreign and strange. i honestly wanted to throw up. 

i know college is supposed to be scary. that's a concept that isn’t new to me. i know it can be depressing. i know people will feel like they've been through hell. i know of the concept. i know how it's supposed to feel. but god, feeling the pain and the fear and the anxiety is so different. for the first time in my life, i feel out of my depth; unconfident; i'd go as far as to say that i'm probably feeling depressed. the concept of the "freshman blues" is not new or unfamiliar, but feeling this way is such a terrifying, unforgiving thing.

[phoenix-downer]

See You Soon

~2500 words. Post-Melody of Memory. Contains spoilers. Riku POV, Kairi POV. Introspection and reflection. Implied SoKai. Mostly canon compliant. 

As the wind whistled past Riku’s ears and his Station of Awakening came into view, one thought tumbled over and over through his mind: 

Am I doing the right thing?

He wasn’t sure where that had come from. Saving Sora was the right thing to do, no doubt about it. They’d searched an entire year and finally had a clue. Of course jumping through the portal was the right thing to do. He had to bring Sora back; he owed it to everyone. To Sora himself, of course, but to all their friends as well. Especially Kairi—

Kairi. Try as he might, he couldn’t get her face out of his head. The disappointment in her eyes when he’d told her she should stay behind. 

He touched down on the platform that had his likeness etched in stained glass. Not as he was now, but as he was when he began his journey. The moment his heart awakened to the true nature of reality and of the Keyblade. Purple glass surrounded him, and next to him were the faces of friends and important people he’d met on his journeys. 

Had Kairi gotten to have her awakening yet? Or was she—

��I did the right thing,” he said as he paused to get a feel for his surroundings. “This is what Sora would want. Kairi, safe and sound in the Realm of Light. What would he say if I let anything happen to her, after everything he’s sacrificed for her?” He balled his hand into a fist. “He trusted me to look out for her, after all. And he’d want me to bring him back to her. Right?”

No one answered him; it was dark and silent here in his heart. Not even Ansem Seeker of Darkness lurked around anymore. His image had melted away from the Station after that final battle in the Keyblade Graveyard.

And yet, a small, nagging voice at the back of his mind wouldn’t leave him alone. It pointed out that missing from his reasoning was Kairi herself. What did Kairi want?

“She’s fine with this,” he said as he paced back and forth. “She needs more training, she doesn’t want to be a burden—”

He stopped. His feet were near the image of Mickey’s head, and he sighed deeply.

“I know, I know,” he said, speaking as if his friend was actually here. “It wasn’t my call to make.”

Kairi had quickly masked her true feelings with her usual cheerfulness, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. Being left behind again was hardly what she’d wanted. And yet he’d agreed to leaving her behind because he was in such a rush to save Sora. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a little too late to go back now, huh?” 

The Power of Waking was not something he could use lightly. Sora’s disappearance had really driven that lesson home. Doubling back halfway through a dive could be risky. Best to continue on to his destination.

He summoned his Keyblade. It appeared with its usual burst of light, and its steady weight in his grip helped him focus.

“Kairi, I’m sorry for leaving you behind again. I promise it won’t happen next time.” He glanced up at the endless sea of black above him. “Besides, something tells me your heart might be the key. You brought Sora and I back from the Realm of Darkness. Depending on how this goes, we might need another miracle.” 

While Riku hadn’t hesitated to dive in after Sora, he knew there was no guarantee he’d make it back. This portal probably only went one way, knowing his luck. But if anyone could light the way home, it was Kairi. 

He pointed his Keyblade at his Station of Awakening and unlocked it. As his surroundings faded away and a new path appeared before him, he had one last message for Kairi.

“See you soon. And the next time I do, I swear, Sora will be with me.”

Despite all the odds, he wanted to give her this reassurance at least. He wanted to make up for all the tears and pain, the year of her life she spent sleeping away in the hope she might find a clue about Sora. A clue they needed because he’d failed to keep her and Sora safe. This was all his fault. If he’d protected Kairi from Xehanort—if he’d offered to go after her instead of letting Sora go it alone—then maybe, just maybe, Sora would still be here.  

This was his penance; his way of making it up to them both. The debt would only be repaid when the two of them were reunited. And this time, he’d make sure he was there too. No slinking off into the darkness alone. If his journeys had taught him anything, it was that there was nothing more important than being with his friends.

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

Kairi rested her chin on her hand and gazed out the window of the Gummi Ship. She’d seen this view several times now, but she still found herself staring at the sea of stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. Wherever Sora was, could he see these stars? Did unreality have stars the way reality did?

“Kairi? Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Mmmm?” She broke out of her reverie and turned to her companion. Goofy was craning his neck to look at her, a concerned expression on his face.

“Do you think there are stars where Sora is?” she asked him.

He scratched his chin. “Gawrsh, that’s a good question. I’d think so, but who knows what that fiction-place is like.” He turned to Donald, who was currently driving their vessel. “Donald? Whaddya think?”

Donald carefully guided them past a lumpy asteroid before responding. “Who knows. Maybe it has stars, maybe it doesn’t. Probably depends on if the unreality has multiple worlds.” 

Kairi fiddled with her necklace. “I suppose it’s a silly question. I just… I wish I knew he was okay. I don’t want him to be somewhere strange and scary that doesn’t even have stars.”

She hadn’t imagined he’d come to her aid in that dream she’d had of Xehanort, right? One moment, she’d been sprawled on the ground, disarmed, as Xehanort prepared to strike her down again, and then the next—Sora’s Keyblade had appeared in her hand, and she’d felt his presence. He’d fought for her, too. But it was just like Xehanort said—he couldn’t speak. Not a single word to her or to anyone.

Why was he without a voice? Who had taken his voice away? And where was his heart? Why would a vanquished Xehanort who had moved on to the afterlife even care about where his heart was? Unless the person she’d met in her dream wasn’t actually Xehanort—

“Kairi?” Goofy said, breaking her out of her thoughts again.

“Sorry, I just… I dreamed about Sora, but he couldn’t speak to me. I wish I knew what he wanted to tell me—if there was anything he wanted to tell me, that is.”

It was a little presumptuous of her to assume so. He’d said what he’d needed to say before he’d disappeared. Wanting anything else—after everything he’d already done—when so many other people missed him and wanted to talk to him too—

Goofy clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Gawrsh, I’m sure he’s got lots he’d like to tell ya.”

“You really think so?” 

Donald cackled as he dodged around a meteor. “Oh, we know so. And boy do we have the stories to back it up.” 

She tilted her head. “Stories?” What did Donald mean? Stories about Sora, or—

“Gawrsh, Donald, maybe we shouldn’t tell Kairi everything, I think Sora would be kinda embarrassed—”

“You shoulda seen his face any time he saw a happy couple! He’d get all blushy and flustered and giggly because he was thinking of a certain special someone.”

Goofy clasped his hands over his mouth and giggled. His eyes were dancing, and Kairi put two and two together.

“Me? He kept thinking of me?”

Donald and Goofy both nodded, like they were two bobbleheads controlled by the same spring.

She leaned against the window and smiled. “If it’s not too much to ask… Could you tell me more? Stories about Sora, I mean. And your journeys as well. I got to talk to him about his journeys before he disappeared, but I’d like to hear your thoughts and experiences, too.”

Ever since Sora and Riku had come home from their first adventure, she’d gathered stories. Losing her memories once was awful, and she never wanted it to happen again. Chronicling her friend’s memories like this reassured her there was some record out there that didn’t rely solely on something as malleable as memory, and she now had pages and pages of notes.

“Sure thing,” Goofy said, so she dug around in her bag for her notebook and favorite gel pen. Once she was settled in, she took notes as Goofy spoke and Donald chimed in. Hearing stories about Sora helped her feel closer to him. Stories of his (mis)adventures and daring deeds, his moments of vulnerability and happiest memories, his corny jokes and hopeless romantic tendencies. And since she couldn’t go after him herself right now, this was the closest she could get to being close to him. 

Later that evening, as she was poring over her notes and reliving Donald and Goofy’s memories in the privacy of her quarters, she chewed on the end of her pen. Was it wrong to be a little upset at Riku? Upset at herself, too, for caving so easily, for not even fighting for the chance to go with him? For giving up so easily on an opportunity to save Sora? Hearing stories about him just made her want to be with him that much more. Waiting wasn’t good enough. Training wasn’t good enough. How could she even stay behind, safe and sound, while Riku was risking his life to save Sora? And after Sora had sacrificed himself for her. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. 

Sora, forgive me, she thought sadly. I wanted to go after you, but after facing off against Xehanort in my dream… Not even being able to handle a dream version of him without your help… I’m scared I’d just let you down again. Or worse, get you hurt or killed for real. And I can’t… I can’t bear to lose you again. So for now, I’ll train with Aqua, okay? That… feels like the right thing to do. I think.

She sighed deeply. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, she was still disappointed she wasn’t searching for Sora with Riku right now. She should be with him. Why did she have to train and train and train when Sora and Riku got to learn by experience? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, and she was sick of being shunted to the sidelines. 

“It’s because you’re weak,” she said with a frown as she drew an angry face in the margins of her notes. “You hold everyone else back. And Sora had to pay the price for your weakness. It’s your fault he’s gone.” 

No.

She gasped and dropped the pen. Scrawled on the page in purple ink next to her angry face was the message. N-o. Short, simple, to the point. 

The handwriting was not her own. 

“Sora?” she asked, resting a hand over her heart. But she heard nothing; felt nothing. “Oh, right. Xehanort, or whoever that really was, said you’re without a voice. I wonder what he meant by that.” 

She fumbled around for her pen, then put it to the paper. “Sora? I don’t know how this is possible, but if there’s anything you really want to tell me, um, I don’t mind if you… take over for a little while?”

That was what had happened, right? He’d taken control of her body to fight for her, and his heart had manifested. Somehow. Was a part of his heart inside her? Or had the paopu fruit really bound them together like the stories said it would? 

“Any time now, I promise I don’t mind,” she said, feeling a little silly for talking out loud like this. But if Sora really could hear her, maybe it wasn’t so silly after all.  

She waited, and waited, and waited. The little cuckoo clock in the corner went off, the little cuckoo bird popping out to announce it was past her bedtime, past her bedtime, past her bedtime. She sighed and started doodling again. Little drawings of Sora’s smile because she missed seeing the real thing. But nothing else happened; if he really was the one who’d left her that message earlier, he was either gone or unavailable now. Or maybe… maybe the connection wasn’t strong enough right now. Maybe it went in and out like her Gummiphone’s reception did when Donald drove through a particularly thick asteroid field. 

Was there a way to strengthen the connection so Sora could communicate with her more easily? She combed her brain for answers. He’d manifested the first time to protect her because she was in danger. Then that message had shown up on her notes when she’d been down on herself. 

She tapped her pen on the paper. “The common connection… The common connection… The first time, I needed help, and the second time, I was being down on myself. Maybe it’s linked to my feelings somehow? My heart?”

She flipped to a new page and jotted her thoughts down. Maybe Aqua could help her sort all of this out. Sure, a part of her still wanted to search for Sora with Riku right now, but maybe Sora wasn’t as far away as they’d thought. 

Maybe the key to finding him rested in her heart. Or at least one of the keys. That was what she and Riku and the star-girl they’d met in the Final World were, right? The girl’s key led to the unreality, Quadratum. Riku was following that clue because his key had been those dreams about Quadratum. But the other key… 

She rested her hand over her heart and smiled. For the first time since suggesting she train with Aqua, she had a clear sense of what to do next. She would train with Aqua all right, but not just in fighting and wielding a Keyblade. Aqua was a skilled mage, and if anyone could help Kairi figure this all out, she could. 

Closing the notebook, Kairi lay back on the bed and smiled. “Hang in there, Sora. Riku’s coming for you, and I’ll make my connection to you stronger, I swear.” 

The Gummi Ship would be arriving on the Land of Departure tomorrow, and then her training would begin in earnest. Someday soon Sora would come home to them, of that she was certain. Then they could finally be together like they’d promised. 

She rolled over and stared up at the stars. Whether the unreality had stars or not, she knew all worlds, all realities, shared the same sky.

“See you soon.”

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A/N: I finished Melody of Memory yesterday, and the plot bunnies soon took hold 😂I wanted to explore Riku and Kairi’s mental states after the events of the game, plus a few plot speculation/headcanon things that popped into my mind, and this was the result. I have some general thoughts on the game overall that I might put together in a separate post, but for now, this is my initial reaction. Thank you for reading! 

[disneydeb1928]

One Piece Theory: The SWORD Initiative

The SWORD Initiative 

SWORD first appeared in Chapter 956 when it was discovered that X Drake, a member of the 11 Supernovas was, in fact, an undercover Marine. Not much is known regarding this organization other then Drake is the Captain and Koby is also a member.

Storytelling: Oda is not a newbie when it comes to storytelling. I’ve said it a million times, but I will say it again: Oda has mastered a very unique type of storytelling. Many others will tell you the same thing. He is a man who values how you feel about characters above how you may feel about his organizations overall. This is why, he always introduces characters, allowing you to make your own judgements before revealing more information on them. With that being said, some people may believe that since this is a recent addition to the plot that this organization must not have been around long. However, that just isn’t true. Oda would never create something this relevant to the story that isn’t routed deep in the past. He loves to make his reveals and have us gasp because suddenly something that happened 200 chapters ago now makes sense. With that being said, I think it is safe to say that there is more to this organization that meets the eye. Therefore, let’s first establish their existence within the established timeline.

Timeline:

X Drake was born on October 24, 1491. We know that he was taken in by the marines when he was 20 years old (in 1511) after the incident of Rosinante stealing the Ope Ope no Mi from his father’s pirate crew. The wiki says that “He [would] eventually enlist as a Marine himself” indicating that he didn’t join right away.

Drake doesn’t appear in the story until chapter 498 (in the year 1522). That means that there are 11 years unaccounted for. In that time, we know he apparently rose to the rank of rear admiral before defecting (Ch. 509)  – again no timeline specifics have been give (but I don’t doubt we will get them in the future).

However, me may be able to speculate based on other Marines.

·         Tashigi was able to go from Master Chief Petty Officer to Ensign (skipping Warrant Officer) in the couple of months that took place between the Loguetown Arc and the Post-Enies Lobby Arc. After the timeskip, Tashigi was a Captain (skipping 4 positions). Therefore, overall, for her to go from Master Chief Petty Officer to Captain, it took roughly 2 years and a couple of months.

·         Similarly, Smoker was able to from a Captain to a Commodore and then to Vice Admiral in the same time period (2 years and a couple of months).

·         Therefore, one could speculate that to go from Master Chief Petty Officer to Vice Admiral it would take around 4 years and 6 months. Since Rear Admiral is only one rank below Vice Admiral I’m going to say that the times are probably similar. [Disclaimer 1: I say this recognizing that there are probably 1000 different things that go into promotions within the Marines (such as accomplishments, age, etc) and that not every person is going to advance at the same pace. With that being said, I do think that we can still learn a lot from it – He’s not a background character after all]. In conclusion, I think 4 years and 6 months is a decent ballpark to aim for and I am willing to speculate that it would have taken Drake at least 4 and a half years to reach the rank of Rear Admiral, putting his age at around 24 (placing this in the year 1515) [Disclaimer 2: This age is completely based off the possibility that Drake joined the marines during the first year he was with them]. All this means, is that at the earliest Drake was a Rear Admiral by 1515.

We are led to believe that his defection has always been staged, and that from the beginning, everything he did was towards advancing SWORD’s goal. So that means SWORD has existed since before the beginning of the series.

We do not know how long he was a pirate before he made his appearance, however, by the time he did, he already had a full crew and a bounty of 222,000,000. We know that Cavendish became a Supernova in 1521, so I think we can make that the latest that Drake could have possibly left the Marines.  

Flashing forward, I think we can pretty much conclude that Koby joined SWORD at some point during the 2-year timeskip.

The Creation of SWORD

If that is the case, that we can conclude one of two things. Either:

1.      Drake created the SWORD organization and began his own mission alone

2.      SWORD already existed before that point and someone approached him to join and start his mission

There isn’t enough information available at this point to really say either way. However, I would speculate that SWORD wasn’t Drake’s idea.

Possible SWORD Members

1.) Issho / Fujitora & Ryokugyu

Issho and Ryokugyu are both new Admirals to replace the positions that Kuzan and Akainu left open during the 2-year timeskip. From what we’ve seen of Issho’s personality, I think he is probably one of the more likely options for SWORD members. He intentionally blinded himself when he became disgusted with all the evil and corruption he had seen in the world (Ch. 799). Some might say that he joined the Marines to fight that evil but perhaps the Marines are the evil he wanted to fight? We’ve seen multiple instances where he put the good of the people above capturing Luffy and the Straw Hats. So much so, Akainu and him got into a heated debate that ended with Issho being band from any Marine base until Luffy was captured (Ch. 801).

Outside of personality wise and evidence of him going outside of Marine orders, there is another reason he is on this list, as well as why I grouped him with Ryokugyu, who we know almost nothing about. And the answer to that is: The Folklore of Momotaro.

An excerpt of the Folklore of Momotaro:

“When he matured into adolescence, Momotarō left his parents to fight a band of Oni (demons or ogres) who marauded over their land, by seeking them out in the distant island where they dwelled (a place called Onigashima or "Demon Island"). En route, Momotarō met and befriended a talking dog, monkey and pheasant, who agreed to help him in his quest in exchange for a portion of his rations (kibi dango or "millet dumplings"). At the island, Momotarō and his animal friends penetrated the demons' fort and beat the band of demons into surrendering. Momotarō and his new friends returned home with the demons' plundered treasure and the demon chief as a captive.”

It has been said before that Aokiji, Akainu, and Kizaru’s Admirals alias are based on the three animals that helped Momotaro (pheasant, dog, and monkey). A fan wrote to Oda in the recent SBS (Vol. 76) and theorized that Fujitora and Ryokugyu (The tiger and ox) are based on the oni (demons) that Momotaro had to face during his adventure, which would imply that they could be against the World Government. Oda jokingly responded, “I’m not saying a single thing about whether this theory is correct or incorrect, okay? (cold sweat)”. If this is true, I think this could serve as proof that they are either members of SWORD or even the Revolutionary Army.

2.) Kuzan / Aokiji

Kuzan, very similar to Issho, has had multiple instances where he has deviated from what Akainu refers to as “absolute justice”. For starters, he was the once responsible for allowing Nico Robin to escape from the Buster Call on Ohara by providing a small boat while also a trail of ice for her to leave safely. Another example is when he (similar to Issho) didn’t arrest Luffy because he defeated Crocodile, saving Alabasta.

However, I think a big reason why many people speculate that he may be a part of SWORD are the parallels between him and X Drake. After the timeskip, we discover that after losing the Fleet Admiral fight between him and Akainu, Kuzan resigned from the Marines. Afterwards, he became affiliated with the Blackbeard Pirates, just like how Drake resigned and created the Drake Pirates. I will say, that these similarities give just as many reasons as why he would be a SWORD member as for why he isn’t. It’s possible these stories are too alike for Oda to tie them to the same cause. However, it is possible that the SWORD initiative is all about going undercover as pirates. But if that was true, then why is Koby not undercover? Just food for thought.

3.) Smoker & Tashigi

If we were to make a list of likeable Marines, Smoker would probably slotted right behind Koby. From the moment he comforted that crying little girl in Loguetown, he gained a lot of fan-fare. I think a lot of people hope that Smoker is a member of SWORD. Like the previous two Admirals above, he has had his fair share of compromising the Marines’ belief in “absolute justice” in order to do the right thing. In fact, out of all of the Marines mentioned on this list, he has done this the most. All of those moments have served as an example of his character. Outside of that, I think it is interesting that Smoker decided to request transfer to G-5 at the beginning of the timeskip, a place known for having difficulties. I think it is definitely possible Smoker is a member.

4.) Rosinante

Very similar to Kuzan and Drake, Rosinante placed himself undercover in order to stop his brother, Doflamingo. It is very possible that this was a very early SWORD mission. Or it could have what led to the creation of SWORD.

6.) Sengoku & 7.) Monkey D. Garp

Like Smoker and Tashigi, these last two are an example of ‘we like them, so we want them to be a part of this good organization’.

Honestly, I have tried to wrap my mind around why the heck Garp is even still involved with the Marines. The only other ‘D.’-bearer we know that was in the Marines, was Jaguar D. Saul, who ended up defecting in order to save Nico Robin during the Ohara Incident. If Garp is not a member of this shadow organization, then there is a deeper reason for why he joined the Marines and stayed.

[butterfly-winx]

I'm not sure if you've already answered this but could u talk about everyone's first experiences with magic?

No I haven’t and I can’t claim I have thought about it long enough to have rock hard hc, but it’s a fun prompt anon, so here we go:

Bloom:

Aside from being protected from the flames of the house burning around her as a baby, Bloom’s first conscious brush with magic was actually using her innate aspect. She has always been a sensitive kid and everybody assumed it was just some form of hyperempathy when she talked about other people’s feelings with high accuracy. But when she categorised people into colours depending on their auras, she meant it. Then as sensitive weird kids be, Bloom was picked on a lot in late primary and middle school and that’s when her temper started to show. Bloom got angry easily and it only riled up the other children more to get her to show a reaction. Before that it was mostly tears, but one memorable occasion Bloom’s control over temperature manifested with her burst of anger and she made everyone and herself develop a sudden high fever. She fainted from it unfortunately and spent the next two years transfixed by all sources of fire and flames eventually circling back on her obsession with fairies and all things magic. The older she got the less she paid attention to the colourful auras until they completely faded from her everyday sight and only cropped up when she herself felt her emotion in a disarray. As Bloom got older, other magic effects started to crop up with higher frequency, like her “magically” avoiding injuries or recovering from them super fast, or never getting burned on hot pots as the Dragonflame started to feel cramped unused in her body. When Stella was being threatened by the goblins and the ogre, Bloom’s fight or flight instincts automatically allowed the Dragonflame an outlet. (She then of course followed Stella down a rabbit hole of an adventure and got a place in Alfea due to her new friend’s quick thinking and forgery)

Stella:

With two proficient magic users as parents Stella was practically hounded over as adults in her life anxiously waited for her to show signs of magic. She went through magic prep courses trying her hardest to please everyone who was so important to her. She wanted to be magic so bad, always afraid of that infinitesimal chance that she didn’t get all the right genes from her parents. At age seven she was kind of a late bloomer for fully magic children to yet show any sign of magic sensitivity, and she spent another short holiday with her mother’s family up north. it was Stella’s favourite pastime to wander as close to the edge of the estate as she dared to alone in the constant twilight of the Solarian pole. Her favourite spot was a little cropping of shrubs populated by lighting bugs that always flocked to her when she came by. The loved collecting the shiny rocks as well that lit up at her touch and create her own little sun filled garden in the back where no one would bother her for hours. In retrospect Stella can tell exactly why she hasn’t come forward with all of these light related oddities, wanting to keep her island of peace to herself, but back then baby Stella really just didn’t clock that this could be related to her magic aspect. Her grandma eventually noticed and eased her into the thought that yes, she was definitely magic. After that the expectations were laid on even thicker instead of getting easier to bear as Stella got instructions at school and from both of her parents after school. Luna was very helpful with first developing Stella’s magic, so Stella actually started off with a stronger focus on her moon based powers. Radius with his control over bright skies was not very useful and Stella soon started feeling guilty over that and took up sun focused spells and fey magic explicitly to please her father. Radius would have loved her no matter what, but Stella’s insecurities were early risers and she felt the need to please others, so she was more than happy to follow his footsteps and enrol off planet in Alfea, his alma mater.

Musa:

She was equally under observation, only because she is mixed (human-elven) and it was unclear which type her magic would manifest as. Maylin herself a magic using elf would have loved to teach her daughter all she knew, but there was of course always room for her to chose a human stream, should she take after her human father more. That Musa was magic sensitive was a well known fact ever since she was a baby and was able to produce... quite a cry. Maylin was lovingly warned that her daughter was likely to be a musical type along with a gift of full sound-blocking earbuds. At age six Musa could remember the melodies of over 300 pieces of music of ranging complexity, regularly got birds to sing for her and had impeccable hearing - all in all she showed signs of having a promising future as a magic user. For her to be gifted with skills in music that brought Maylin and HaoBai together was a blessing from the Heavens. Then Maylin died and Musa and her father’s world shattered with her. Grief can have complicated effects on one’s magic, and Musa age 9, appeared with dried up magic meridians like she was a l 90 year old. It took a lot of family counselling and well timed teenage rebellion for her to pick up music and with that magic again. And it was hard work, let her tell you that. Both letting magic inot her and developing a feeling for it and doing it all while hiding from her father, afraid he’d want to ban her music and snap instruments again (it happened once, and HaoBai isn’t proud of how much the pain of loss had consimed him at that moment). At fifteen she finally had enough and decided to go head first for it, insisting her half-orphan “recompensation fund” to be used as tuition at Alfea College for fairies, despite never having received any magic prep education. Through brute force, luck and insane talent Musa aced all entrance examinations and made it despite it all.

Techna:

As childbirth on Zenith is, it was completely up in the air whether Techna would be magic or not.  All the early childhood signs Techna showed for their aspect were at first more or less mis-categorised as autism (which they absolutely have, but them going through technical books detailing the technological systems of ancient civilisations daily wasn’t just that). The first one suspecting they have magic was actually Techna’s elder sister, Electra. Electra five years older than Techna was very into the idea of a baby sister and loved smushing and cuddling Techna, which Techan absolutely hated and kept giving Electra static shocks out of nowhere. Once Electra understood where static came from and identified that there was absolutely nothing charged around Techna when they did that, she became suspicions. The whole family found out when during dinner, Techna announced in the calmest voice possible that they have heard the car talk and it told Techna exactly what was wrong with it setting an end to their parents tense discussion about the car having issues. The car was sent for repairs, confirming what Techna had  said and Techna was taken for a magic sensitivity test having that confirmed. (Baby Techna like: oh yeah I could always hear machines they just usually don’t have anything worthwhile to say). She wasn’t quite five at this point. Magic isn’t as widely practiced on Zenith and it took Techna’s ranerts a while to find a magic prep school for them to attend after school, which ended up being outside the borders of Transjordan actually. The daily drive was very long and exhausting both for teen Techna and the parent of the day who had to drive them, so they started talking about sending Techna to a boarding school once they were old enough. Techha was left to do their own research and they realised they had quite many options, even with just narrowing it down to fey magic that were closer to home than Magics, but they all advertised themselves as “girls’ colleges” and even pre-gender realisation that just irked Techan for an inexplicable reason. They much preferred going to a coed school, so Alfea ended up as their first choice on the application form.

Layla:

In Layla’s case, detecting her magic sensitivity was incredibly difficult, seeing as she grew up practically constantly submerged in water playing with her cousins by the shore. Androsi people naturally have a large lung capacity and are able to dive long. That Layla dried super fast afterwards and never got salt rashes was also brushed under the rug ascribed to good royal hygiene and skin care. When she started being schooled in the castle Layla was colossally bored. She received basic magic training just because, no one actually expected her to be magic since they believed she didn’t show any sensitivity for it, and kind of for shits and giggles Layla took it and ran with it. Layla discovered privately in tidal caves just what a mistake that was able to make the water be kind to her and mold and move just so she could always get out unharmed. She surprised everyone at age eleven when during a banquet the visiting princeling was annoying her just so much, she used her water magic to turn his strictly pomaded hair into a bird’s nest, overshooting and drenching the next three dignitaries around him as well. The party stopped. At first Layla though she was going to get into so much trouble, caught under the strict eyes of her father, but as it turns out, he was overjoyed. Layla was put on a fast track for learning magic and surprised people once again choosing fey magic and being able to transform at the tender age of 13. She was never sent to Alfea, but received the offer from Faragonda after the Darkar incident thinking Layla could easily make it to Enchantix (which she did, this girl is talented).

Flora:

Both of Flora’s parents are untrained magic users, so her being somewhat sensitive at least was also expected. Flora loved sitting to the side watching her father run the potion shop when she wasn’t chasing all her other parental figures and watching what they were doing with curious eyes. She loved it when her aunti Nimali gave her bumps and scrapes a little kiss so she started doing that to all sorts of things including her father’s ingredient plants. He was indulging her harmless kid fantasy, knowing full well that most of his magic plants responded to emotions like they had a soul and was more than surprised when he found these plants not only healed but sprouting wildly whenever Flora gave them a small “get well smooch”. The village talked it all over and Flora was given over to the local magic users to train with and shadow what they were doing. Her interest in potion making however prevailed and by the time she emerged from Nature’s Teaching Path having singlehandedly ran the little children’s colony it was very clear that Flora would need to receive proper training from a proper institution. She was just too good at magic for her family to fail her not being able to offer her more knowledge. Flora wanted magic with frankly for her startling greed and ambition, but she hated the idea of moving away. She could have just gone to Woodland College like most other magic users, but even there the entrance exam examiner was suggesting the school was too small for her. (And Flora kind of felt that - she overthought the whole exam because it was just so simple, she just had to touch the plant, and will the box to float. Her aspect of plant growth might not have given her complete control over the environment, but she was still a lot better than her peers.) The teacher spoke to the Council about the potential of sending Flora off planet and now that had her attention and full investment in doing everything the Council demanded to get her a visa to study in Magics.

Out of the six Layla and Techna were able to transform already before they came to Alfea, Flora and Stella had unstable first attempts (Stella during her own first year that is, not her re-run), while Bloom and Musa were the only ones who fully had to learn it from scratch during their first year.

Stella and Layla pay their tuition from royal funds, Flora is Lynphean Council sponsored and Bloom after the first year paid from Callisto’s royal fund (oops) is on a Magics scholarship for minority cultures as a surviving Dominian. Techna benefits from Transjordan’s education scheme which gives students a basic income, their parents supplement the small remainder, while Musa is 100% self sponsored from aforementioned widower’s trust fund they got after Maylin’s passing.

[fanficfeeling]

Lovely - Jaskier x Reader

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a fanfic in quite a few years, because for whatever reason, 2020 has brought with it a whole lot of inspiration, and I’m so excited to write again! I also recently binged The Witcher, and I’m crushing big time on Jaskier, so that felt like a good place to start! I’m very rusty, so I would appreciate feedback, but please be gentle on this returning writer. I’m so proud of how this piece went after not writing for about three years, I may even make a part 2 to this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Y/N is finally beginning to make a good living doing odd jobs in her hometown when she meets Geralt of Rivia. He shows up to deal with some odd beast in the woods nearby, and Y/N is happy to offer her assisting services to the Witcher, who eventually can't ignore her offer anymore when he realizes he needs the assistance of someone who knows the area better than he does. Y/N assists him with little fuss, because it's what she does, and maybe, just maybe, the townspeople will toss her a coin too for helping him when all is done (turns out, they never do). When it seems that he actually doesn't mind her presence or her help, she asks to come with him when he leaves her small corner of the world, because maybe she can make an even better living going where he goes, since it seems all he does is follow trouble. Oddly enough, he agrees to the arrangement.

They quickly became an excellent silent tag team of sorts. He goes to the newest monster, and Y/N follows him to wherever they reign devastation, to offer any help she can to those in need, temporarily. He gets the coin for his end, she gets the coin for hers,  and they pool it, making more than enough coin for them both, and somehow helping people along the way.

Y/N's new life is good, at the end of the day, with good money, fulfilling work, and decent company to fill her days, and this peace goes undisturbed for quite a good while. That is, until Jaskier catches up with Geralt.

The pair stopped at an inn after moving on from their last area in need, and, as per usual, they ordered their drinks and sat in a corner in near total silence, enjoying some peace and quiet after witnessing a whole lot of suffering.

"Geralt! So wonderful to see you, I've really been looking for you everywhere, I have a request to make of my dear friend." The brunette bard slides onto the seat next to Geralt, and the Witcher grunts in protest.

"Jaskier."

The bard appears to mock offense, "How lovely to see you too, Geralt! And here I was hoping you'd been missing me-" He trails off as he lays his eyes on the lady sitting across from him, and his mouth drops open in awe quickly. The lady shifts uncomfortably as he stares, and her eyes quickly shift to her travelling companion.

"Geralt, do you... know this man?"

The Witcher grunts once again uncomfortably, "Unfortunately."

Jaskier speaks once again, never able to keep his mouth shut for long, "C'mon, Geralt aren't you going to introduce us? Me, your best friend in the world and this stunning woman who I can only hope is also just your friend and also not insane like your taste in women usually implies?"

Geralt stares at him blankly, hoping on everything holy the bard would move on and not try to "woo" his new partner in crime, but he knew that was highly unlikely, so he settled on giving him this; "Y/N, this is Jaskier, not my friend. Jaskier, Y/N, my travelling companion."

Jaskier decided quickly enough that that mediocre introduction would suffice, and took it from there.

"Hello, fair Y/N, Geralt does me no service. I'm Jaskier, a bard some would say of exceptional talent, I wrote 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher', ever heard of it? I'm sure you have, it's about him!" He breaks briefly to jam his thumb in Geralt's direction, "And may I just say, you are very lovely and I hope that when he says that you're his 'travelling companion', he doesn't mean you're sleeping with him, because I would love to buy you a drink this evening."

Y/N is caught off guard by Jaskier's quick mouth and forward language, but she has to admit, the man is not unappealing. Despite his initial, uncomfortable staring, his eyes are soft as he looks at her, not menacing, and his words don't seem disingenuous; she could bet money on the fact that he really does think she's lovely. As much as she enjoys Geralt's company, she could of course do with some company that wasn't miserable or silent, and Jaskier brought a smile to her face in a way no one had for a while. Besides everything else, he's attractive, and the first man in a long time, if ever, to show genuine interest in her like this.

Once over her shock, she smiles at him. "Alright, Jaskier, I'm almost at my limit for tonight, but I suppose one more drink really couldn't hurt, if you must insist." Feeling bold with his genuine flirtations, she takes a chance and throws a wink his way, punctuating her sentence with it.

The change in atmosphere is sharp as a grin lights up Jaskier's entire face, one that makes Y/N's heart have palpitations as her stomach flops, and for the first time since Y/N met him, Geralt is stunned, and nearly drops his drink. Jaskier, lighting up the whole room with his smile, doesn't take his opportunity for granted.

"Right! Excellent! So glad you feel that way! I will order you a drink, and in return I want to know more about you, deal?"

Y/N can't help but feel lightheaded at the idea of this man really wanting to get to know her. "Deal."

Without questioning his luck, Jaskier quickly runs off to fulfill his end of the deal, leaving Y/N and Geralt in silence once more.

"Not to pry, for fear of damaging our professional relationship, but... really?" Geralt says, breaking the silence once more.

Y/N laughs. "He seems a decent enough man, and it's hard to find someone that earnest nowadays. Unless you have any cautionary tales, about your 'best friend in the world'?"

Geralt rolls his eyes at her comment, but says nothing. For everything annoying he sees in Jaskier, and as much as he pushed him away, it was rare that he found someone who was actually willing to entertain him. Despite how many people Jaskier goes to bed with, Geralt knows just as well that the bard's intentions were pure enough; he just needed someone to get on the same page as him.

"He's not totally incompetent, I'll give him that, and he's not harmful. Do what you will." Geralt mutters, then stands. "I'll get out of your way. I've seen enough of that boy's flirting to not want to watch his attempts at you."

Y/N laughs again. "Well, I thank you for the privacy, and by your standards, that seems a glowing recommendation for him, so I'll give him an honest shot. I value your opinion."

Geralt freezes. So that's what it feels like: mutual respect. He could get used to that. "We head out tomorrow morning." Y/N nods at him as he walks away.

She's not alone for long as Jaskier returns quickly, two drinks in hand, sliding into the spot across from her once more. He doesn't question where Geralt went, but he's relieved by the privacy.

"Now, your turn. Tell me about you. How does a lovely creature such as you end up travelling with Geralt of Rivia?"

She tells him. She recaps her life as it lead up to her career, and tells him of how she met Geralt, and tells him about her travels with the near infamous WItcher.  And hanging on the edge of his seat every moment, Jaskier listens.

As Y/N brings him up to date on her best stories, Jaskier sighs almost wistfully, "You're so interesting. Your life would make for amazing songs."

Y/N's laugh graces his ears. "Would it now? I never figured odd jobs would make entertaining musical material."

Jaskier sits up straight from where his head had lain in his hand, staring at Y/N as she spoke. "You do good things, and you're so... interesting. You've come so far in your life, you travel with one of the most interesting men in the world, all to do some good, even when it's hard. You're incredible."

Y/N feels her cheeks begin to glow a bright red at his praise. Her job was often thankless, so to hear someone say she did good, and that her good was fascinating enough to be acknowledged, felt like a warm hug after getting caught in a rainstorm.

"Thank you, Jaskier, I... don't get compliments like that often. I was under the impression that I'm pretty boring."

Jaskier feigned alarm, "You? I can't see anyone ever finding you boring, how could anyone with a goal and a story to tell be boring? And frankly, I quite think you deserve all the compliments, my lady."

When she began to think that she'd found the perfect man after only knowing him for one night, Y/N decides that she may have had just a tad too much to drink, and decides to call it a night. She coughs nervously.

"Well, I, uh- thank you, Jaskier. That's very kind of you. YOU are very kind. I've never had someone call me interesting, or listen to me so intently for so long, and it's a testament to your good character. This has been wonderful, and I thank you for the drink, but I'm quite tired and we ride out early tomorrow, so I'd best be headed to bed. Thank you for the drink, Jaskier." She pauses as she stands. "And your company."

As she walks away, Jaskier feels his heart beating through his chest, and the harsh thumping of it has him reeling. She enjoyed his company. She thought he was nice. She was willing to give him a chance. And she was... lovely. He got so swept up in her that he forgot he even had something to ask Geralt.

The next morning, after Jaskier had barely slept, he made sure to meet the adventuring pair as they head out once more. He fully intended on asking his favor of Geralt and going on his merry way.

Until Y/N stepped out that door, all misty-eyed and looking like a goddess, and when Geralt asked him what the fuck he wanted, all Jaskier could think to ask was, "Will you please take me with you?" She was too beautiful to let slip out of his hands, not when he was in like this, and she made his mind so blank and dizzy, but so ripe with inspiration at the same time. Being near her seemed a drug he would happily indulge in.

She offered him a ride on her horse, Cinnamon, when Geralt very reluctantly agreed to let him tag along. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he panicked that she could feel the intense beating in his chest. So he reverted to his best coping mechanism, and he sang; a song he had written the night before, about a very pretty woman who had traveled so far from home to spread good throughout the world. She grinned the entire time he sang.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - A new pact

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 3 | Part 4 A new pact | Part 5 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Enjoy another tooth achingly sweet fluff chapter my dear readers ❤️

Word count: 1.557

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

I’m pleased to inform you that I have passed the princess approval test. Teeth were brushed, laughter was about and she even made friends with a furry companion the size of an adult bear. All and all it was a lovely, sunny Sunday and I can’t wait to bring her along on my adventures of today, which will include.. sheep herding!

Now you may wonder why a news reporter would go sheep herding, but did you know that Jersey used to have its own, very unique Jersey sheep? Through some unfortunate neglect and misunderstanding these sheep went extinct and now their four or six-horned heads no longer graze about. But! As per usual, we humans found out a century or so later, that these sheep and their many horns were a blessing to keep the nature on the island healthy, and thus they were re-introduced. Albeit this time in the shape of a fewer horned, more human friendly Manx Loaghtan herd, whom we’ll be meeting today.

I cannot wait to see if my fellow Alice has a knack for befriending other furry creatures as well, so keep your horns and fingers crossed - we’re going on an adventure!

Ali

The jeep tumbled and shook as it drove over the bumpy country road, the habited world slowly coming back into view. A welcome view too, because we had a fun, but also truly exhausting day. Little Alice had drifted into a slumber, her small body leaning heavily into my chest as she clambered onto a pair of fresh wool socks she had received as her gift.

I could only imagine what she’d be dreaming of right now. Probably, it involved lots of chasing of and cuddling with sheep. I yawned and watched with blinking eyes as Maddie and Frank’s house finally came into view, the afternoon late when we finally arrived.

‘Thanks Jonny.’ I smiled at the friendly bearded man behind the steering wheel.

‘Sure thing Ali. It was fun having you two…’ He hesitated, seeing the toddler as she was still far away in dreamland. ‘..You know what. Let me help you out with that.’ He winked, quickly swinging open his door and moving to the other side of the jeep. I sighed a quiet thanks as he pulled open the door, effortlessly scooping up the small girl from my arms.

‘Up you go! Hello little Alice. Looks like you’re home!’ He cheered, putting the sleep muddled toddler on her legs. I slipped out of my seat and thanked him again, my arms swiftly lifting Alice back on my hip before she’d fall right asleep on the sidewalk.

‘Well have a good one! Looking forward to the article.’ Jonny said, brushing some of the toddler’s hair out of her face. A sweet gesture.

‘I’ll make sure to send you a copy. Good night Jonny.’ I waved him off and turned around, my eyes catching some movement a little distance away, at the opposite side of the street.

And not just any movement. It was a dumbstruck, frozen-in-place, Henry, his large blue eyes blinking at me. He was clearly confused, his eyes briefly slipping away from me to look at the truck as it drove off into the distance.

‘Hey!’ I waved, a bit unsure of what to do. I could only figure what he was thinking right now; a man, a kid?! That’s not really quite the image you had sketched the other day. Biting my bottom lip I quickly crossed the street, walking up to him, tired toddler snugly held onto my chest.

Henry remained quiet as his eyes now moved to the girl in my arms, her bright blue eyes giving him a studious glare.

‘Hey..’ I repeated, trying to grasp his attention, my smile a tad awkward as I pulled up the toddler a bit higher on my hip - she sure was getting heavy!

‘Hi.’ He swallowed, quickly hiding something behind his back.

‘You probably wonder what the heck is going on.’ I bit my lip, looking down at Alice, his response a mere nod of the head. ‘..Maddie, my friend, had to rush to the mainland to help out her mom, so I offered to help out and watch over her little princess.’

Alice looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with passion. ‘I’m no princess!’ She muttered. ‘I’m a sheep herder!’

Henry’s pensive face broke into a tender smile, watching the little girl as she snuggled back into my chest. ‘I see.’ He let out a quiet sigh. ‘Sorry..I didn’t mean to..bother you..I was just..-’

‘In the neighbourhood?’ I laughed, nodding at the house. ‘Come inside. I need to put this sheep herder down before I break my back.’

—

‘Alright. The sheep herding princess is..asleep!’ I cheered, plopping down on the couch next to Henry, our bellies filled with food and the evening young.

‘Good. I eh..wanted to show you something by the way...Here.’ Henry said, offering me a piece of paper, our fingertips touching as I took it from him, my nose immediately scrunching up when I noticed what it was.

The pact.

‘Oh. My. Word.’ I started laughing aloud, studying the hand drafted “contract”, both our names and signatures neatly placed at the bottom. ‘How old is this even?’ I gasped. ‘Pff..well..we were what..thirteen? Something like that? I just started senior school.’ ‘Dearness me. Oh, I actually saw your mom yesterday and she was being particularly vague; “You would never guess what Henry asked of me yesterday” she said, and then she added that you’d probably wish to show it yourself… Very..very mysterious.’

‘Well, I’m a mysterious man.’ Henry winked at me, reaching out for his glass of red wine and finishing the last sip.  

‘Hardly.’ I retorted, smiling. I watched him for a moment as he sat back in the soft couch, his large frame sporting a tight and comfy cable knit sweater. He looked so huggable. Ugh! What a teddybear of a man he was.

He raised a careful eyebrow, testing me. ‘Well, dear Ali, do indulge me.’  

‘You work crazy hard and live a crazy A-lister lifestyle. But all you really want..’ I pointed at the contract. ‘..is rainbow coloured dreams. And..’ I pointed at his finished glass of red wine, shrugging.  ‘..perhaps another glass of red wine.’

Our eyes met, our lips curled into masks of friendshiply banter, but the underlying tone clear. We had been sweethearts before. Many times actually, our paths having crossed in every stage throughout our lives. Sometimes just being tight knit friends. Sometimes more. Could we do it again?

‘I didn’t bring a rainbow coloured pen this time, though.’ Henry said, gesturing me to look at a paper that was hidden beneath the initial contract. I furrowed my brow and turned over the paper, finding a new contract.

A..a real marriage contract.

I blinked, studying the document, then looked over at Henry, my face stricken with confusion.

He smiled sweetly, reaching out his fingertips to caress my hand, the pads of his fingers callus and warm. ‘I know your previous lovers had some..commitment issues. So.’ He shrugged casually. ‘I just thought it better to show you I’m not one of them.’

‘Wh..’ My voice croaked, my throat suddenly very dry and my heart buzzing like a humming bird. ‘W-what?’

HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!

‘Well, we pinky swore, remember?’ He chuckled. ‘And..of course I’ll let you off if you do not want to give me a shot. But..’ He sighed, smiling. ‘..it sure is funny how we keep running back into one another, right?’

I finally managed to get some of my breath back, the contracts now lowered on my lap, my eyes studying him, face serious.

‘Really? Is this a joke Henry? Tell me this is a joke.’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ He asked, looking indeed quite..serious. I swallowed and put the papers on the table, right in between our wine glasses, the air so very thick in my lungs.

‘Hmm..’ I licked my lips, curious and slightly unsure eyes looking back at Henry. ‘I don’t really believe in fairytales Hen.’ I shook my head, my mind reeling. 

‘You don’t have to. I’m being real Ali. I am.’

‘A contract doesn’t suddenly make a relationship work, Hen. You should know that better than anyone.’ I shook my head, wanting all of this to make sense. Why me? Why now? Why here? Why, why, why?!

‘I’m not asking you to sign it. I’m just showing you the commitment you seek. I want it Ali, I do.’

My heart was near jumping out of my chest as his words floated through the quiet living room, an open fire crackling somewhere in the background. I blinked again, still quite dumbstruck.

This was going way too fast. When I had said that the clock was ticking I didn’t mean; come make babies with me right this instant. Right? Right?! The past few years our only contact had been through over seas phone calls and Whatsapp messages. Heck. We hadn’t even kissed since we reacquainted two days ago and sleeping together? I think we hadn’t done that in..what? Ten years? 

My eyes moved over him, his body folded into the corner of the couch, large chest leaning forward, eyes hopeful. He was obviously trying to keep a friendly distance, though the wish to move closer was clear. Move closer to..to…You sighed, eyes now moving towards his lips. Those sweet, full cupid bowed lips.

‘You better kiss me real good, Cavill.’ You whispered, looking back up into his eyes.

It was an invitation he didn’t need to be given twice.

--

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[marmolady]

Livita: Part Two

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate… but their family remains not quite complete. Read PART ONE and PART THREE.

Word Count: 3545

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr​ @saivilo​ @greengroove 

San Trobida, March 2023

 The months initially dragged by; the nervous wait for those vital early milestones agonising. Life had taught Estela that nothing good ever came easily; at any moment this could all turn to tragedy-- she woke up each morning with no expectation that she wouldn’t have lost the baby by the next. Taylor was far more secure in her optimism, though at times it did threaten to crumble. Some five weeks in, the pair were married, officially, in the grounds of Catalyst International’s new San Trobidan resort, surrounded, of course, by their extended family. At the end of the night, Estela had said ‘screw you’ to fate, and confided her condition to her tio, who had wept with joy. His belief in her, the support unyielding as always, did wonders to help her through those most vulnerable days.

After the twelve week scan, there was a joint exhale of relief, and the reality that this was happening at last began to set in. Through those early months, home was San Trobida with Tio Nicolas. In time, Estela and Taylor would return to La Huerta, where they had always planned to raise their child, close to Aleister and Grace’s own little family, and to Diego and Varyyn. Estela would not be fit to travel for a whole lot longer, though, so the time spent with her uncle was precious.  While in San Trobida, Taylor was faced with a rush to establish her youth programmes during the brief window in which she’d be available with her full attention. The country was in the midst of a great rebirth, its people boldly stepping out from the shadows left by the cruel dictatorship that the revolutionaries had brought to its knees. To be able to play her own part in that story was, to Taylor, an immense honour, and a responsibility she took very seriously. Those fleeting months were intense, with meetings on top of meetings and enough networking to test even her people skills. Once the baby arrived, everything else would take a back seat, and her role would be as a part-time counsellor specialising in LGBTQ+ youth, and a mentor to students-- all of which she could carry out from their La Huerta home.

Estela had slowly dialed back her role with Catalyst International-- with both herself and Aleister on parental duties, delegation had become increasingly necessary. She kept up with the few bits and pieces that interested her, primarily assistance and scholarships for San Trobidan students, which allowed her to work nicely in tandem with Taylor, but anything else could be someone else’s problem. Staying with her uncle, a sense of peace had descended upon Estela. Her body gradually changed-- and morning sickness had plagued her-- but she took it in her stride.

The front door creaked as Taylor strode through. “Honey, I’m home!” She found Estela sitting cross-legged on the couch, leafing through a collection of baby sewing patterns. “Hey, are you feeling better?”

“Better. You didn’t have to come home….”

“As if I need an excuse to be with you.” Taylor crossed the room, and sat herself beside her wife. “I finished what I needed to get done. So, I got myself back to where I needed to be.”

Estela huffed happily. “I won’t complain. Maybe we could work on that blanket some more. You know how much of a kick Tio gets out of the sight of me knitting.”

“Yeah,” Taylor giggled. “He laughs, but I’m pretty sure he knows you are more than capable of disemboweling someone with those needles if a threat came up.”

“Of course. A spear could never be so subtle.”

They laughed together, then Estela took Taylor’s hands. “Actually, I wanted to share something with you, in my room. We can knit at the same time.”

Estela’s old room had changed little since she was a teenager; it was a cramped but cosy space, decked out with just a few shelves of childhood possessions and faded photographs upon a narrow dresser. Nowadays, alongside the charred-edged photo of a young Estela on the beach with her mother and uncle, was another of Estela-- now older, far more battle-scarred and world-weary-- on the very same beach, her arms around a smiling Taylor. Sat on that worn single bed, Estela could enjoy the comfort of familiarity as she carried on her journey toward a great unknown… and with her wife beside her, she found the courage to face the shadows that crept in along with those memories.

“Gordita, I made you up some of your horrible patacones,” Nicolas announced, pushing open the bedroom door with a shoulder as he presented a large plate. Since the pregnancy had been announced, Estela had been his gorda, with no care paid to how small her bump might actually be. At six months along, though, the belly was living up to that new nickname. “I despair. You get rid of one dictator, and suddenly we have jumped-up young people thinking they can eat peanut butter and jelly with their patacones. Is this the terrible price of freedom? Have I made a grave error?”

Estela snorted with laughter, taking the plate as her uncle kissed her forehead. “And yet you made these up for me; I must be very loved.”

“Always, mija. But you should notice there are some with mango salsa for your poor wife. I won’t have her suffer for your insanity.”

Taylor smiled, gratefully taking a patacone.Nicolas has been doting on the both of them relentlessly since the news had been broken-- Taylor didn’t think she’d ever seen him quite so happy. When the time finally came for them to leave for La Huerta, it would be a great wrench. “Cheers! You’re the best.”

“I’ll have that in writing, Taylita.” Nicolas’ eyes twinkled as he looked over his nieces. The time was fast approaching that they would be on their way again, ready to start the greatest of adventures. He would miss them so. La Huerta had never been a draw to him-- he’d not visited once-- but there was no doubt in his mind that even his stubbornness would have to concede once Estela had that baby in her arms. There was not a force on heaven or earth that could keep him away. “Okay, gorda. I will leave you to it. I’m sure you’ll let me know if you have any other culinary abominations you want me to whip up.”

“Thanks, Tio.”

Alone together in their small sanctuary, Estela and Taylor cuddled close. Taylor braved a nibble of one of Estela’s controversial patacones and admitted that Nicolas had a point. Those things just weren’t right.

“I’m with Tio,” she said. “Our little nene has played havoc on your taste buds.”

Estela chuckled, more forced than she’d have liked. There was something else on her mind. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Hey. Are you okay? You had something you wanted to show me?”

For a moment, Estela considered changing her mind. It had been over a decade that she’d avoided this, what was to say that now was suddenly the right time? The bump of a little foot up against her ribs gave her clarity. She wanted to show this to her baby someday; that meant she had to brave it. She pulled up her laptop and placed it on the bedside table, then rummaged in a drawer, taking out a disc.

“It’s… it’s our old home videos.” She took a deep breath. “Tio put it on a DVD ages back to make sure we didn’t lose it, and he had an extra copy made for me. You know, just in case I ever….” Her cheeks became pink. “I… I haven’t watched this for a long time.” How long, she didn’t say, but she didn’t doubt that Taylor would know, understand.

Taylor squeezed her wife, her own pulse quickening. She knew this was huge. “I would love to watch with you. So much. But only if you’re really ready.”

“I think sometimes, the closest thing you’re ever going to get to being ready is wanting to be.” Estela offered a wobbly smile as she picked up on Taylor’s concern. “Mi amor, I’m okay. I’m doing this with you.”

She leaned into Taylor as the DVD began to play. Then came a voice that made her heartbeat quicken.

“Hola Nicolas!” Olivia said, waving with one hand, while she supported the small infant Estela with the other. “Here she is! This is your niece. This is Estela.”

Taylor felt Estela’s hand clench around the bottom of her shirt, clinging on for comfort. She placed her own hand on top and gently squeezed. I’m here.

They watched as Olivia placed the infant in a bassinet, then picked up the camera to give a tour of her home.

“So, this is the first place I lived; my mom’s apartment in Colombia,” Estela explained, her voice shaking at first, then steadying. This… didn’t hurt as much as she’d anticipated. If anything, it was a comfort. The last pieces of film she’d seen of her mother had been that horrifying footage in the Elysian, and the VR warning message from Olivia’s office in the MASADA complex. This was Estela’s mother as she knew her, the person she’d been missing so painfully. There was the inevitable pang of longing as she looked at that face, but the wash of memories made her seem closer than she’d been for so many years. “It was a few months before she had everything sorted so we could move to Tio Nicolas’ place, so Mom made a videotape to send him. A friend at the lab she worked at gave her the camera; it was so Tio could see the new baby, but we used it a long time after that.”

With the apartment tour complete, the camera was placed down on some unseen table or stand, and Olivia came back into the frame, picking up baby Estela and cradling her in her arms.

“If you’re lucky, you might get a smile out of her,” Olivia said, grinning as she gently tickled Estela under her chin. “The twentieth of July was her first real smile. You’re going to laugh at me, but I cried. Maybe you’ll get it when you meet her. She’s just so, so beautiful. I swear I’m addicted to this girl.”

Taylor snuggled under Estela’s arm, and watched, entranced, as the baby on the screen grew and changed under the loving care of her mother, and then uncle as well.

“Wow, Tio Nicolas looks different!” she commented, to Estela’s chuckle. Time, unimaginable stress, and facial hair could do that to a person. It was impossible not to smile as she watched the young Nicolas bouncing his little niece on his foot. That he’d be utterly, totally smitten with Estela’s own child had to be the surest thing in the world. Taylor saw on that screen an image of a dream come true, a future that now lay before her and Estela. God, could I be any more clucky right now?

“That’s going to be us, Taylor. Our own little family.”

Instinctively, Taylor put her hand to Estela’s bump, stroking it. Her family with her soulmate; it wasn’t what she’d been made for, but she was certain it was what she was meant for.

“I’m going to be someone’s mom. When I think about it, it’s just… incredible.” She cuddled in close, and gently kissed Estela’s cheek and forehead. “It means so much that you shared this with me.” She gestured to the screen. That had taken a whole lot of bravery. “Watching this… I see so much of you when I see your mom.”

“She would have been an amazing abuelita,” Estela said softly. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Her mother’s sacrifice had brought her to Taylor. This new family would carry a great deal of Olivia Montoya’s influence, though she’d never know. “Thank you. I know it’s silly for me to say this, but I really appreciate you saying that. I’m gonna do her proud.”

The child on the screen was older now, toddling around the so-familiar house on stumpy legs. She held in her arms a soft doll.

“Oh-- that’s Babydoll. I was… creative at naming things when I was two. Mami gave him to me on my birthday, and I just took him everywhere. It always made sense to me; there was no way in hell Mami would ever leave me it home, so how could I ever leave my baby?”

“So, when you say you always wanted to be a mom?”

“Yeah, it goes back a long way.” Estela stroked her belly, meeting Taylor’s hand there. “I’m glad I had no idea just how rough the path would be… how that dream just burned and died. But we’re going to get there.”

She could see it. A lot of what had made her childhood had been lost in a wash of pain and trauma, but it couldn’t be taken away completely. Those memories, there before her, they were still a part of her. Those warm family moments were hers to pass on to her own child.

“Actually, I think Mom kept Babydoll. Maybe as a souvenir of my brief period of childhood innocence. I should dig him out--” She faltered, and her cheeks flushed. This shouldn’t still be a problem….

Catching on in an instant, Taylor squeezed Estela’s knee, and met her eye with a warm and loving gaze. “We have time. And if we need to enlist Tio Nicolas to do most of the necessary rummaging, that’s fine too. It would be really nice for nene to have something of yours.” Memories were powerful. They made up so much of who each person was. Lacking her own childhood, Taylor had found herself gain a great deal from Estela’s, something that had always been generously shared with no hesitation, in spite of the pain that came with those memories. That family history was important, and it bonded them together.

With a small, appreciative smile, Estela nodded. “Yes… we have time.”

  La Huerta, May 2023

 “Right; tell me. Which end am I kissing?” Taylor scooched forward in the sand, reveling in the gentle heat of the lowering sun upon her back and shoulders.

“That’ll be nene’s back.” Estela gestured to her lower belly, then the top. “Head. Butt. Right where they should be.”

Taylor smiled warmly, and went back to lay another kiss against her wife’s swollen abdomen. “Bub’s got it all worked out. Ready to high-tail it outta there and start lapping up the cuddles.”

“It’s come around fast,” Estela stated. It had. Almost too fast. Pregnancy had been an adjustment for sure, but she’d become comfortable with sharing her body with the small passenger. She could take care of herself, and that meant that baby’s needs were met too. What came next was a great unknown. Estela knew better than most how good intentions of keeping a beloved child out of harm’s way could go up in flames. What her life had been… grateful though she was for the person it had made her, she didn’t want a life like that for her baby. She could tell herself that it would be different, that the fight was over, but she’d seen too much to not be protective. The person she might have gone to for reassurance, the person who’d truly have understood, was long lost to her. Rarely had Estela missed her own mother more than in these days leading up to the big event. It made her all the more grateful for Taylor; already completely besotted with the tiny person they were waiting to meet. In Taylor, her loving hero, she had all the faith in the world.

“Yeah...” Taylor put on a forlorn gaze as she looked up into Estela’s shining eyes. “Just a few more days, and I won’t be able to outrun you anymore. I’m pretty devastated.”

“You’re a beautiful dork, Taylor. But don’t worry. You’ll be able to keep ahead of nene for a few years, if you’re lucky.”

Taylor snuggled into Estela’s lap, and together, they watched the sun journey towards the horizon. The rising tide licked at their bodies. All was peaceful, tranquil; the only sounds were the rolling of the waves, the calls of tropical birds, and the distant laughter of children in Elyys’tel, voices carried upon the wind. Taylor quietly studied Estela from head to toes, taking in everything. The pregnancy had added further lines to Estela’s scar-painted body; marks of something happy at last. Her carriage gave off a quiet confidence; the baby was safe in its strong, resilient vessel. And in Estela’s face, once the vision of heavy burdens, so great that it might might have been those of the whole world… quiet, happy serenity. Taylor felt a wave of affection wash over her. It happened to her a lot. Goodness knew how she’d ever get anything done when she had Estela and the baby to love on all day.

“Estela?”

“Mi amor?”

“You know, I think a part of me is going to miss this. Being able to put my arms around you and hold the two people I love most in the world at the same time.”

Estela’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’ll still be able to do that. Soon enough, baby will be hugging you back.”

“It’s… got to be normal to be a little scared, right? I’ve got nothing, nothing at all to look back and remember as a reference for how the hell to raise a kid. What if I--”

“Taylor.” Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands; gentle but firm. God, Taylor… no one could ask for more than to be loved by you. “I’m scared too. But I’d be a hundred times more scared if I wasn’t doing this with you. It’s a whole actual person depending on us. A whole person we could screw up in a million different ways. But we won’t. Taylor, look at me. You won’t. Just… be scared with me. And all of us… we’ll be okay.”

Taylor pulled herself up and put both arms around Estela. Holding the two people she loved most at the same time. To be scared with Estela was almost to not be afraid at all. “You’re right. Wise Mama Estela.”

“Because of you. Don’t forget that.” And Estela kissed the tip of her beloved’s nose, growing cold with the retreat of the sun. She gave a little wink. “Mama Taylor.”

Her eyes glazing dreamily as she stared out to the sunset over the sparkling sea, Taylor felt a little kick against the arm that she had around Estela’s middle. She didn’t even need to look to know that there would be the most beautiful of smiles across her wife’s face. Pure elation. Mama Taylor? She could get used to that.

[yawnjunie]

extra long tag game (seriously, it’s very long)

tagged by: @soobindipity​ (ty eri!)

tagging: @acethetiques​, @bloomingjun​, @txtdream​, @bulgo-gyu...(i’m honestly so lazy so if you want to do this, go ahead! feel free to ignore if you were tagged)

ONE

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

side effects! (oops this is a txt blog) but i’m pretty sure this is what made me want to stan skz! the song is very experimental, as it’s psychedelic edm (i believe), but i liked it a lot after a few listens. i was totally obsessed with the choreography as well, because the whole thing is just...art. they attracted me because their style of music was different than what i had seen before, and on top of being extremely talented and creative people, they were also super funny and caring.

another group that comes really close to being my favs is day6 (and i cannot even begin to describe my infatuation with this group). i listened to “shoot me” and “sweet chaos” and BAM that’s all it took to drag me into stanning this group. i’m not familiar with the inside jokes and all that, but i just love listening to their music! there is not a single bad song in their entire discography! i also have the largest heart eyes for young k’s “young one” project covers and eaJ’s original songs.

—

TWO

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

what’s your unrealistic goal for life?

going to an ivy league or just any amazing school in general (lol is this really gonna happen tho 🤪)

if you had known that we would be in a global pandemic, what’s one thing that you would’ve done before things shut down (if they have for you)?

gone out with my friends, probably (going for a boba run, going to the mall, etc.)

what’s an unconventional thing that you carry around with you when you go out?

a tiny book called “be active” by charles m. schulz, filled with motivation quotes. i also bring around a book, in case i get bored.

favourite type of plushies and why?

the extra fluffy kind that i can hug or use as a pillow, but i like the bear plushies a lot too (from daiso/miniso).

favourite song right now?

darn i don’t have one 😳 but i like listening to “ribs” by lorde

something that you’ve always wanted to learn?

how to make macarons, how to make/compose music, the korean language

tell a funny story about yourself (or just something that you’ve witnessed)

i can’t think of something off the top of my head :( (i promise my life isn’t that boring but my brain isn’t conjuring up anything helpful)

headphones or speakers? why?

headphones when i want to listen to music by myself/with a friend, speakers when i want to share music openly

craving any food right now? what are you craving?

banh mi and 🍅 (even though i just had a bowl of them...sorry beomgyu)

+ also this coconut that i’m trying to open? but it’s not cooperating with me 😔

which music streaming platform do you prefer? why?

spotify, it’s unproblematic for the most part

ten questions (by eri, answered)

1. what’s the best trip/vacation you’ve ever had?

when i went on a tour of china (i went to a bunch of places, from the city to the mountains). it was fun exploring places i’ve never been to!

2. do you have any random fears/phobias? if yes, what are they?

spiders and bugs :(

3. weirdest food you’ve ever eaten?

either mangostine (i hated it, sorry soobin) or frog legs

4. do you have any hidden talents? what can you do?

uhhhhhhhhhhh i can memorize things quickly? i mean i don’t think it’s that big of a talent but i can remember trivial history facts really well

5. what is an activity you’d like to try out someday?

swimming underneath a waterfall or just living in the wilderness

6. when did you get your first phone and what type of phone was it?

a very long time ago when i was in 2nd grade, when i first got an ancient flip-phone...i pretty much never touched it because i never really needed to use it

7. what is a movie you never get tired of watching?

kimi no nawa! i’ve watched that movie 3 times already and it’s a great movie so i wouldn’t mind watching it again :)

8. biggest pet peeve?

dirt encrusted fingernails >:(

9. earliest childhood memory?

i’m not sure :( my memory is just a jumble of things from my childhood

10. as a child, what did you want to be? what about now?

i wanted to be anything and everything...one day i would be like “i’m going to be a doctor” and the next i would be like “nvm i want to be a magician” and as for now, i’m actually not sure because i’m interesting in many fields, including areas in both sciences and humanities.

—

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

—

FOUR

PERSONAL

name: blu

nickname: blu

birthday: sometime when the flowers bloom

zodiac: aries

nationality: american

languages: english, chinese, spanish, (a bit of) japanese

gender: female

sexuality: straight

height: [redacted]

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: txt and other groups i stan! i also like to take inspiration from my life experiences, books i’ve read, songs, movies. shows, and so on.

meaning behind my url: there weren’t any canon urls for yeonjun so my brain somehow went hmm? yawnjunie? sounds good (i’ve been asked this before and honestly there isn’t much logic behind my url lol)

blog established: June 5th, 2020

followers: 153 (it’s a small-ish community but thank you all for the support!)

FAVORITES

favourite animals: dogs, cats, wolves, foxes (i just love animals in general)

favourite books: asoue, the miraculous journey of edward tulane, the joy luck club, the giver series (there are more but i can’t think of them)

favourite colour: blue (i love all the colors)

favourite fictional characters: alyssa and james (teotfw), the baudelaires (asoue), and other people i can’t think of atm

favourite flower: i don’t think i have a specific favorite flower, but i like orchids!

favourite scent: the scent of pu’er tea (or the scent of dried flowers)

favourite season: i don’t have one, but i’m leaning towards autumn

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: 6-9

cats or dogs: dogs (i’m serious)

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea all the way

current time: 01:05

dream trip: south america, europe, japan

dream job: tbd :’) (but i want to be in a profession in which i’m helping people)

hobbies: eating, playing piano, being a tubbs™

hogwarts house: ravenclaw (i think)

last movie watched: can’t remember, but it was probably a film about a mermaid who tried to find true love on land but ended up dying

last song listened to: i’m in love with you by kina

no. of blankets you sleep with: 1-2

random fact(s): i love mint chocolate ice cream, i like my milk tea with a bunch of toppings (pudding, aloe vera, boba pearls, etc.)

—

FIVE

10 things I can’t stop listening to

if i could ride a bike - chevy

pinocchio - eaJ

fly me to the moon - young k

holo - lee hi

lmm - hwasa

man in a movie - day6

laughing on the outside - bernadette carroll

remember (from natsume’s book of friends) - uru

sparkle - radwimps

i loved you - day6

[ella-se-vuelve-loca]

Chapter 9

Grand Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

~~

“Can you guys hear me?” I heard Chris ask the cncowners on his live stream he’s doing with Zabdiel. They waited a few moments as comments started pouring in greeting them. “Aye! Hahaha how is everyone? Good?” Chris asked as Zabdiel was reading some of the comments.

Ring

I looked down and saw that (Y/N) was calling my phone. A smile immediately came onto my face as I answered her call.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” It’s like I could feel her smiling on the other line.

“What’s up?” I asked and I could hear some shuffling in the background. “Well, I finally checked out that Netflix Series you were telling me about.”

“Oh, really?” I chuckled. “And?..”

“You were right.. It’s so addicting!” I laughed and played with some of the rings on my fingers. “Right? I told you. I have good taste.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been putting it off for this long. I’m such an idiot.” She laughed as I leaned my head back on the chair I’m sitting on. “I meaannn… you’re not wrong. You can be a dork sometimes.”

“Speak for yourself. You can be a dork as well.” She immediately fired back at me. “Yeah, but I’m your dork.” I mumbled and made sure no one else could that but her. I looked back over to where Chris and Zabdiel are siting and I realized that they were both looking at me... I guess I might’ve been laughing too much? I shrugged my shoulders at them as they got back to talking to the cncowners.

I stood up from my seat and started walking towards the door to go into the hallway. “A dónde vas?” Zabdiel asked as I opened the door, holding the phone close to my ear. “I’ll be right back..” I said and made my way out of the room. “Hey uh now that I have you on the line with me, can I ask you a quick question?” I asked.

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhmm there’s a place I would like to take you and I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

“Where would we be going if I say ‘yes’ to this little adventure of yours?”

“It’s a surprise. All I ask is that you might wanna wear something comfortable and to bring a sweater.. so, what do you say? Will you go out with me tomorrow?”

“I’d have to say that you are something else, Joel.” She laughed. “But sure, I’m free tomorrow. Is there anything else I should bring, Pimentel?” She joked. “Only your cute self.” I smiled as I could picture her blushing at my comment. “Where are we going?” She tried once again to figure out my plans.

“Ah-ah-ah I see what you’re trying to do there. Nice try, but like I told you, it’s a surprise.” I looked back at the door where Chris and Zabdiel sat inside. “Darn it. I thought you wouldn’t catch it and tell me without even realizing.”

“I’m just that good.” I chuckled. “Anyways, I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“It’s a date.”

“I’ll see you then, princesa.”

“I’ll see you then.”  I smiled and hung up the phone after we said our goodbyes and walked back into the room occupied by two of my friends. “Hey, guys.” I spoke as I walked towards them both. “What are you guys doing?” I asked.

“Estamos haciendo un Q&A.” Chris said as he looked back to the screen and picked out a question to answer. “Who were you talking to just now?” Zabdiel asked as I looked down at Chris. “I think it was just a friend of his.” Chris spoke for me and brushed it off as Zabdiel slowly nodded and got back to answering questions. I patted Christopher’s shoulder as if saying “thank you” that he covered for me.

That was way too close.

I forgot for a second that they were doing a live and I could’ve blown this whole thing up within seconds. She has to stay a secret. When I break this off with her and get Emilia, then it’ll just be between us and the public wouldn’t know about this. I know this is still very douchebag of me doing this, but I can feel it. I can feel this going my way soon and I’ll get what I want in the end.

I can feel something is about to change or like something is about to happen. I just don’t really know what yet…

~~

“So you’re really not gonna tell me where we are headed?” She asked me as she strapped her seatbelt on and looked over at me. I shook my head and started driving away, heading over to our destination. “I thought you said ‘patience is a virtue’?” I smiled. “Besides, it’s not that far from here anyways.”

We continued to talk as soft jazz music played in the background until we finally made it to where I had planned our date. “We’re here.” I said as I unstrapped my seatbelt.

“The beach?” I nodded and opened my car door before running over to her side and opening her side of the car. “Thank you.” She smiled and at me and got out as I stood behind her. “The water is gonna be cold if we get in.”

“True, but we’re not here to swim..” I slowly turned her chin towards where we were going to be seated at and leaned down close to her ear and spoke. “We’re just gonna have a little picnic.” I chuckled and took her hand in mine, pulling her towards me as we walked on the cold sand. “It’s simple, but sometimes simple is the best way to go.”

She looked at the picnic I had set for the both of us and smiled. “It’s perfect. I love it..” We got ourselves settled on top of the blanket as I had a spare one next to me. Instead of sitting down, we ended up lying down on our sides, hoisting our bodies up by our elbows. “Uh.. champagne?” I asked as I held up the bottle from the basket next to us as she held up the two glasses. “Of course.”

We both clinked our glasses together as she took a sip. I couldn’t help but notice how.. beautiful she looked tonight. I don’t know if it’s the sunset beaming on her skin or how little makeup she wore, but something about her was just drawing me in. I took a sip from my drink and placed it on top of the blanket.

“This definitely is a nice surprise.” She spoke. “I’m glad you like it..” We both looked at the waves in front of us and could hear the water crashing together. “You said you thinking spot and one of your favorite places to be was underneath a.. willow tree? That’s what they’re called, right?” I asked as she nodded.

“Well, my thinking spot is when I’m around water. Whether I’m at the beach, or I’m on a bridge that’s over some water, a swimming pool or even in the shower.” I chuckled. “Something about it is just so relaxing to me and I feel like I can breathe.. be lost in my own thoughts.”

I’ve never really confessed this to anyone, now that I think about it.

Her thinking spot is under a tree and mine is by an ocean of some kind. What goes better than land and water?

I looked up at her and saw her glancing over at the small waves as she let out a sigh. “It’s a good place to think. It sure is beautiful..”

“Yeah.. very beautiful..” She glanced back at me and noticed how I was looking at her and not the view in front of us. A blush spread across her cheeks as she played with the glass of champagne in her hands. I reached over to the basket and pulled out two sandwiches and handed her one.

“Would you care for a sandwich, m’lady?” I asked as she laughed. “Don’t mind if I do, good sir.” She took it out of my hands and took a bite. “Mmm.. avocado?” I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I like to add it to my sandwiches. It gives it a whole new taste and takes it to the next level. If you don’t like it, I have a few ones that don’t have any.”

“Are you kidding? This is so good! Kind of reminds me of a torta, I’m not gonna lie.” She laughed and took another bite. “A lot of people don’t like them and I’m always like how can you not? It’s delicious.” I took a bite of my own and smiled. “It’s a good fat.” She laughed.

We continued to chat and eat while it got darker and darker.

“Okay okay uh if you were in a TV show or movie, would you rather be the hero or the villain?” I asked her as we looked up at the stars above us from were we lied down. “I think I’d like to play the villain just because I feel like you get to have more fun. I mean don’t get me wrong, It’d be cool to play the hero but… the costumes and the dialogue of the villains always look so much cooler, in my opinion.”

“Really?” She nodded and asked a question of her own. “If a genie granted you 3 wishes right now, what would you wish for?” I thought for a moment as I absentmindedly played with a strand of her hair. “Uhh.. pfft.. to eat anything and never get sick or fat, to get mi caballito azul back and..  for this moment right here, right now, to never end..” I looked down at her and I swear the stars didn’t compare to how pretty her eyes looked in the moonlight.

“… Wait.. what’s your caballito azul?” She asked and I laughed. “Long story short, when I was little, I l grew up with my grandparents and I used to have this blue toy horse and I would always play with it. One day, I lost it and I would cry out ‘Caballito azul! Caballito azul!’ and I never saw it again.”

“Wow, must have been so traumatic for you.” She laughed. “Hey! I’ll have you know it was haha!” I looked back up at the sky and sighed. “Okay, my turn… what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in public?” She immediately covered her face and groaned. “There’s so many things, oh my God! I was dreading this question!”

“C’mon! Tell me one!”

“Uh.. okay, I can tell you one thing I did when I was younger.”

“I’m all ears.” She chuckled, cleared her throat and began telling her story. “So, I’m a pretty clumsy person by default, okay?” She laughed. “One time, I was trying to get the attention of this one guy I liked when I was younger and for so long, he just didn’t seem to notice me. The one time he decides to look over my way, I’m going up the stairs and.. haha I fucking trip and my body just slid when I got to the top. I was mortified!”

I burst out laughing as her face turned completely red. “I was like ‘Oh! Well, he notices me now when I’m doing some stupid shit. That’s just great.’ I couldn’t believe it.” She chuckled. “How do you fall going up?”

“I don’t know! I just did!”

“But that’s – ”

“I know!”

“So did he – “

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

Our laughter died down as I found myself looking into her eyes once again. Why are they so captivating? Why can’t I look at anything else but her? A slight breeze hit our skins as I saw her shiver a little besides me. “You cold?” I asked. “Just a little..” I sat up as she followed my movements while I grabbed the extra blanket I had brought just in case it got a bit chillier. “Here..” I placed the blanket onto her and she held it close to her body. “Thank you.. aren’t you cold too?”

“Nah, I can handle it.” I brushed it off and looked back at the waves. “I don’t want you to be cold, and it’s not fair that I’m the only one with a blanket, that you brought by the way. Plus, I have extra room so..” She came closer, her body next to mine, and shared the covers with me. “There, now we can both be warm.” She smiled at me as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you..”

Silence…

I hoped she couldn’t hear the sound of my heart thumping rapidly inside my chest. I’ve never held someone like this so close to me and feel so.. comfortable. It just feels so right. I looked down at her and slowly lifted her chin up so she can face me properly. My eyes drifted from her own to her mouth. I parted her lips open slightly with my thumb as my hand went to cup her face and glance back up into her eyes.

They look so soft. I wonder what they would feel like.. against mine.

I slowly leaned down and hovered mine over hers, testing to see if this is okay. She didn’t pull away as I stayed there for a moment, hesitating if I should do this.

I want to.

I really, really want to.

“… Are you.. gonna kiss me or not?” Her voice was so soft that I almost didn’t catch it. It was almost so hard to believe.

I slowly pushed my lips against hers and it felt as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered but her. I moved strands of hair away from her face while she played with my curls. This feels.. good.. too good. It was like a fire ignited inside my bones and I became addicted to how soft they felt against mine.

We pulled away and it was as if I came back to reality and remembered where we were. I looked back up at her and smiled. “.. Come back here..” I pulled her in for another kiss and held her body close to mine, smiling against her lips.

~~

“I had a really great time tonight, Joel..” She spoke as I had walked to her to doorstep. “I did too..” It was as if we were both thinking the exact same thing because the next thing I knew, I had her pinned against her front door while locking lips with her.

I don’t want to stop, but I have to…

One of my hands were on her hips while the other was pinned over her head. We pulled away and I could feel her breath against my own as I gave her one last sweet short kiss. I slowly pushed myself away from her and started walking backwards.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)…”

“Goodnight, Joel…”

I smiled at her and made my way back towards my car. I got inside and waited for her to go in her house before I started driving away.

Only one word came into my mind at this moment.

Woah…

Next Chapter

~~

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[bymoonchild]

Microwave (Mis)adventures (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, slight angst, smut / college!AU, roommates/housemates!AU, enemies to lovers!AU,  Warnings | Explicit language, lots of sarcastic banter, pillow-humping, masturbation, kitchen blowjob (!!!), eating out, fingering, creampie, cum-eating, unprotected sex  Word count | 20k

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

After attending college for a good three hellish but somewhat fun (only because you live to torture yourself) semesters, there are six things that you think you’ve mastered. 

Sleeping at 6am and waking up just on time for your 9am the next day and ready to kick some ass. 

Relying on coffee – a true college student’s lifeblood – to survive the day. 

Pretending that you have your shit together – people around you think you have everything under control. You’re part of your faculty club, the editor of your school’s publication and also on the freaking dean’s list and have an immaculate GPA to maintain. 

Being a bitch because college has a lot of dumb people and you don’t understand how there are so many people with just one brain cell, that is almost close to none. 

Making lists because checking off each task from your list is as satisfying as sleeping in on a Friday. 

Making routines and sticking to them. 

So If there’s any skill that you’ve mastered, it should be these few, though it’s highly unfortunate that you can’t list any of the aforementioned skills in your resume. Skill number six is also your pet peeve and you just abhor, detest, loathe, fucking hate it when your routine gets all screwed up and just about everyone around you knows how anal you are about following your routines and you won’t hesitate to throw hands if something goes awry.

You’ve never imagined that you would actually be throwing hands until you see some stranger occupying your usual seat at your 8am lecture, for fuck’s sake. You’re not being territorial. There’s no such thing as assigned seats in college, but after the first week or so, people just got in the habit of sitting in the same spot – it’s like an unspoken decision. But your favourite seat is taken. Rudely taken by a mob of dark hair who’s casually scrolling through his phone. 

The nerve!

As if on cue, your vision flares red and your mind sorely screams at you to throttle him. Look, you’re not a convulsive human being and you’re definitely not that big of a bitch (at least not without a reason), but you spent the entirety of last night sorting out your team’s editorial calendar and making sure that everything is under control and you had to drag yourself out of bed at 7 in the morning with hardly any shuteye. You’re high-key regretting every single decision you’ve ever made and definitely not in the friendliest of moods to deal with a seat-stealer. 

So you stalk over to your usual seat, storming louder than usual with your bitchiest expression that you’ve been training since college started. 

“Excuse me,” you clear your throat, eyebrows raised tauntingly at the boy in front of you, who is settled way too comfortably in your seat. 

“Hi…?” The brunet stares at you unblinking, as if rummaging through the compartments of his brain for an inkling of a name or memory of you. “Do I—”

“You’re in my seat,” you cut him off curtly, impatience evident in your tone, barely giving him any time to register what’s going on.

“W-What?”

“This,” you point unabashedly to the chair he has his butt comfortably on, “is my seat.”

Something about his expression changes and his eyebrows start to crease, as though he’s starting to fathom what the heck is going on. 

At that, you frown back harder, all eyebrows furrowed and tightened jaw muscles. 

“But we don’t have assigned seats in college?” The latter challenges with a tilt of his head, arranging his features into a look of deep confusion.

This only prompts you to roll your eyes in disbelief, a flash of annoyance flitting across your sharp features. You’d like to think you’re not a bitch, at least not without a god damn reason and having your seat stolen during an 8am lecture is a good enough reason. 

“Yeah? I’ve been sitting in this seat for the past eight weeks, so your argument is invalid.” 

You riposte, not minding how lecture has long begun and the students around you are gaping apprehensively at the commotion you’re brewing up instead of listening to the professor. You try your best to ignore the burning gazes on your back. 

He remains silent, but his eyes are lit up as though he enjoys riling you up. 

“Um look—”

Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you scrunch your eyes closed, trying your best to resist screaming in lecture as a burning sensation climbs up your throat. 

“Can you just, I don’t know, move? I’m already having a bad morning and I don’t need a seat-stealer to add to my hit list.”  

He gawks at you for a few seconds to see whether you’re pulling his leg about adding him to your hit list and wanting him to move, but raises his hand in mock surrender when he realises that you’re actually serious. 

Giving you his most I-don’t-give-a-fuck-anymore shrug, he mumbles while grabbing his bag, “Okay, fine fine. Geez, it’s just a seat.”

You wait as he moves out of the seat, before sliding into your seat promptly and you find your entire body relaxing out of instinct.

“You’re very welcome, by the way,” the stranger retorts with the same sarcasm that you very much do not appreciate, given your already rotten morning, but it doesn’t match up with the mirth lurking in his voice and grin on his lips. 

“T-Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, unsure of whether he caught it, but you have better things to worry about like catching up with the lecture and trying your best not to have a breakdown because your morning routine just got fucked with. 

Turning back again out of instinct, you see the boy shoot you another weird look before moving to the back of the LT. 

You feel your heart skip. In anger or something. You look away, appalled by the audacity of him – how he can still look at you in the eye when he just did the most despicable thing on earth. 

For the next two hours of lecture, you find yourself incapable of concentrating, mind invaded with thoughts of that seat-stealer. You’re not sure where he has moved to, too caught up in basking in your own internal pit of resentment and memorising every detail of the seat stealer’s cute face so that you can punch him the next time you see him.

Wait…

Cute?

As the overused saying goes, it’s just a bad day, not a bad life – and honestly, you really want to believe in that cliché encouragement. With the same lack of vigour from this morning, you head back to your apartment after class and desperately hope that none of your housemates would be home because you could really use some peaceful alone time. 

You share an apartment with three other friends – Namjoon whom you met through the student union (he’s the Vice President and you work under him as the editor of the editorial committee), Sooyeon aka your best buddy who unconditionally puts up with your angsty ass and Jimin, Sooyeon’s loverboy who’s part of your school’s dance crew.

But instead of coming home to peace and comfort, your eyes land on someone whom you’ve never expected to see again the very moment you push open the door. Let alone in your fucking house. 

The boy, too, seems to be appalled by your appearance. “Hey, you’re—” 

You point at him exasperatedly, mouth agape. “Oh my god, you’re the freaking seat-stealer!”

Your surprise is initially mirrored on the stranger’s face, but he recovers it quickly and even chuckles at your histrionic outburst. “Wow, nice to meet you too?”

For a good thirty seconds, silence and thick tension pervade the air as you smoulder with rage and confusion, until the boy begins to speak up again. 

Scratching the back of his head, he chuckles dryly, “I swear I’m not here to steal your seat whatsoever.”

“Then what the heck are you doing here—shit, are you the new housemate?”

“Yep,” he replies pompously, emphasising on the ‘p’. 

He sees you freeze up, how your eyes twitch a little, before you unabashedly blurt out a “fuck my life”, entirely disregarding your new housemate. 

“Namjoon could have warned me beforehand about having a seat-stealer as our new housemate. Seriously.” 

“Um,” he ignores your blunt cavil and extends out of his hand with a small smile. “I’m Jungkook.” 

You gawk at his hand, affronted that he thinks you’re down for a fresh start because your day has been ruined because of his stupid ass who decided to take your seat. 

Look, it does not seem that deep, but it is, in fact, that deep. 

Everything has gone downhill after your encounter with the seat-stealer. After lecture, you planned on heading to the canteen to grab food before your next class which you had a mini-quiz for, but due to the little fiasco during lecture which involved the unapologetic seat-stealer, you had to stay behind after lecture to clarify the content that you missed out with your professor, and then you missed the bus and couldn’t get to the canteen in time. In the end, you had to do your test hangry, so you definitely have every single right to be angry. 

It is just the utmost unlikely of tragedies to meet this Jungkook dude twice in a day, and now he’s your new housemate? Fuck no. 

“And you are…?” He grins awkwardly, hand still hovering in mid-air. His large, almond eyes regard you with keen interest, but you choose not to relent. 

“Getting the fuck out of here.”

You spit, spinning on your heels to thunder down the hallway and retreat to the comfort of your room. But before you slam the door to get the boy away from your sight, your conscience stops you.

Come on, you’re not that mean to leave him there without giving him the Pep Talk. That would be the least you could do. He should take that as your warm welcome and the last interaction you two would ever have. 

“So um, Jungkook, right? We have a few rules here. First off, don’t leave your trash out in the living room, throw them in the bin or recycling bin if you need to. Secondly, label your food in the refrigerator properly. Thirdly, I’d appreciate it if you don’t talk to me. Ever. Okay, yeah that’s all. Thanks, bye.” 

The words taste bland on your tongue and the distaste is plain as day on your lips as you slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook standing in the middle of the living room, staring blankly at your door like a lost child.  

Behind him, the door clicks. Jungkook turns around and sees Namjoon at the entrance. Finally, his savour.  

“Hey hyung!” He greets a little too excitedly. 

He first met Namjoon at a music festival, in which the older was in charge of. At that point in time, Jungkook was a freshman and had just joined the dance crew (which was considered a feat for a freshman) and he had the chance to talk to Namjoon, in which he found him a really passionate and capable leader. When he found out that Jungkook was looking for an apartment in his second year, Namjoon being the wonderful gentleman he is, offered him their empty room – they needed someone to occupy the last room and it’s always better to have someone they know than a rando from the streets. 

And that’s exactly what happened. Exactly why Jungkook is standing in the middle of the living room awkwardly after being cursed at by a girl who is not only attractive to him, but also sardonic and sharp-tongued. And he just had to steal her freaking seat during lecture. 

“Sorry kiddo, got caught in traffic. I see you’ve met the wrath of Y/N?”

“Y/N…” Jungkook repeats to himself, but laughter pokes its way across mirthful eyes and tinted cheeks, displaying his bunny teeth in their full glory at the memory of your aggravated face. 

“She’s normally not like this, I swear. I don’t know why she’s so pissy today,” Namjoon shrugs as he removes his shoes. He then walks past Jungkook and ruffles his hair. 

“Maybe because I got on her bad side when I took her seat during lecture this morning?”

“Oh, that explains it. She doesn’t like… changes. She’s very anal about sticking to her routine.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“She’ll get over it soon, don’t worry.”

“It doesn’t seem like her hatred for me will end any time soon though.”

He pats Jungkook on the back, as if another way of wishing him luck. “Anyways, welcome to our humble abode! We have a few rules—”

“Oh, Y/N already went through them with me.”

“Great! My room is just beside yours, you can just pop by whenever you want, but I’m mostly not home. We have a cleaning and errands roster by the fridge, I’ve added your name to the list. Enjoy your stay, yeah?”

At Namjoon’s last sentence, your face pops up at the forefront of Jungkook’s mind. You’re intriguing, he would say. Very intriguing. Well, looks like it’s going to be one fun hell of a semester living and breathing in the same confined space as you. That, he can’t wait. 

It has been a tough two weeks living with Jeon Jungkook. He has come ramming into your life like a bulldozer, obliterating what little peaceful routine you’ve cultivated. Within the first two days, every fiber of your being has come to a consensus: you hate Jungkook’s guts. 

It’s as if he’s designated to cross paths with you to ruin your life. The very fact that you’re sharing a roof with him makes your blood boil and nerves shake with animosity and the number of times your subconscious has proposed strangling him with your bare hands is almost unhealthy.

But to your ultimate dismay, your other housemates have no qualms about accepting Jungkook – the impudent, cocky, dogmatic jerk who does not hold an ounce of consideration in his bones – and making him part of the gang. 

You, on the contrary, aren’t going to be deceived by his façade.

So you refuse to acknowledge his existence or give him the time of day. While it is almost impossible to fully avoid him because he does live in the same apartment as you, it still doesn’t stop you from not thinking twice about walking away in the opposite direction or pretending to be on your phone to avoid any potential social interaction with him when he’s in the proximity. 

Despite your reluctance, you do learn a few things about Jungkook from just pure observation or from your other housemates who, for a fact, can’t shut up about him. He’s a second-year Computer Science major, with a second major in narcissism and sarcasm (but he’s nothing compared to you), is in the dance team with Jimin, and is also a passive-aggressive and cocky jerk and proud anime weeb. 

He’s also very diligent. Diligent in pissing you off, that is. 

Thus, you’ve taken every liberty to flip him off whenever you could and it’s not as though your housemates are oblivious to your ongoing heated war with Jungkook – they just choose not to care, also because they find your discord with him very amusing. It’s their daily entertainment. But they’re mostly unbothered because Jungkook is causing misery to no one else in the apartment except you. 

You’re his only target. 

Which is weird because you like to think that you have a daunting presence which keeps most people away, accompanied by a temper too intolerable for people. But Jungkook, with his one brain cell, is unlike most people and seems to have a penchant for riling you (and only you) up, leaving all proper etiquette aside and pissing you off at the utmost degree. It’s either he’s plain dumb or lives to torture himself. Possibly both. 

Last Thursday, you came home to a battlefield, a war between a growing pile of dirty clothes strewn all over the living room (you’re pretty sure your housemates have started using one of the shirts as a rug) and takeout containers scattered all over the kitchen counter and living room. And all these were caused by the one and only Jeon Jungkook – who else would be this inhumane? Even Namjoon, the messiest person ever, cleans up after himself, or at least has learnt how to after living in a shared apartment. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, is incorrigible. But what you can’t understand is that he seems delighted to witness the consequences of his filthy tendencies.

Whenever you vociferate his name, he’s always carrying a smug and amused grin despite your evident irritation. 

He’s watching an anime on his phone on the couch when you stomp up to him and call him by his full name with your nastiest scowl. You usually try to be civil with him for the sake of your housemates, but your patience grows thinner than a thread every day, especially when he shoots you a cocky smirk, “Yes, Y/N?” 

Eyes ablaze with smouldering anger and fists jammed sharply into the flesh of your hips, tightly gripping onto the final shreds of your sanity, you say between clenched teeth, “Tell me – why are your things lying all over the living room? Do you or do you not have a fucking room?”

“Of course, I do,” he replies impassively, eyes still glued to his phone, engrossed in watching whatever’s captivating enough for the blockhead.  

Picking up a sweatshirt that hasn’t been watched in perhaps a month for good measure, you snarl, “What the fuck are you? A barbarian?” 

He looks up from his phone for the first time, the right corner of his lips curled into a lewd smirk. 

“Probably not that ugly – have you seen my face, Miss Grumps?” 

“You’re so full of yourself I might just barf at your face. And for the record, you’re not that good looking.”

“Really? I’d beg to differ.”

“The only begging you’ll do is at the doorstep when I finally kick you out of this apartment if you can’t learn to clean up after yourself.” 

Satisfied with your riposte, you hurl his clothes that you’ve dutifully picked up from all corners of the living room at his direction, but he catches them all with just one hand without even batting an eyelash. Damn dancers and their quick reflexes. 

“What? Impressed?”

“Hey look,” you assert, throwing your hands in mid-air and Jungkook’s eyes follow accordingly, staring blankly at them. “Look at all the fucks I give.”

His face drops when he realises that he’s been punked. “You’re fucking Satan’s child.”

You raise your eyebrows, mirth dancing in your orbs. Giving him a contemptuous round of applause, you dispute, “I’ve been called worse. Try harder.”

He doesn’t even need to look at you to know what kind of glower you’re boring on your face. It’s as if he has that distinctive expression of yours mesmerised and embedded in his memory. 

“Is that a challenge?” The smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Only if you don’t come crying to me when you lose.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond and for a moment, you think you’ve got the upper hand. But your eyes gradually narrow to slits as he continues to make no inclination to acknowledge you. You realise that he has increased the volume of whatever shitty anime he’s watching. 

Fucker. 

As you gape at him incredulously, the gears in your mind spinning, there’s an unfamiliar prickle in your chest: competitiveness. You want him to bow down to you. You’re hungry to win. 

So given that skanky attitude of his, you, of course, have to retaliate by annoying the shit out of him as well. For one, you decide to drink his beloved banana milk, slurping generously on his endless supply for the next few days. The dude has two full cartons in the kitchen and you don’t want to know why. 

When he comes confronting you, you show him exactly no fucks given. 

“Where’s my banana milk?”

“Up my ass, bitch.” 

“What the fuck? That was my last one!”

“Oops, couldn’t help that I was thirsty!” 

By the anger that undulates from his pinched features, you don’t know why the fuck, but you have this wholesome sense of satisfaction knowing that he got his comeuppance. You’ve won this time and you want to continue to win. 

Oh, it’s on, Jeon Jungkook. It’s on. 

After the banana milk incident and many more that should not be mentioned, it is a known fact that Jungkook and you are profoundly contentious with each other and should never be allowed in the same room for everyone’s sake. However, God knows what went through your housemates’ minds when they thought it would be a good idea to call for a compulsory movie night. You couldn’t even excuse yourself from it without bearing the brunt of Sooyeon’s annoying pleas. 

“Look who we have here – Y/N!” 

You hear your name being slurred out on purpose a few inches above you. Looking up from your phone, you frown when your eyes land on your favourite nemesis, frowning in an instance. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” Jungkook grins smugly and you desperately want to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“Bitch, I live here.”

“Well, aren’t you just unapproachable today.”

“And yet you are here,” you scowl back. 

“Well, I am something else, aren’t I?” He smirks slyly with a victorious blaze flaring in his eyes. “Especially when you have the temper of a volcano that hasn't erupted in, say, a million years.”

The crease on your forehead grows and you click your tongue loudly when Jungkook settles himself comfortably in front of you on the floor. He even turns around to shoot you a guileful smile. 

“You’re a walking pest. The fucking bane of my existence. The devil incarnated,” you leer and he takes everything in with an amused and sinister grin before turning back to the TV. 

It’s not even halfway into the movie when Jungkook and you come into conflict again. You’re just minding your own business, watching Iron Man for the umpteenth time (you swear they only played it because of Jungkook and his obsession) when the said boy suddenly turns around and sneezes loudly. Directly at your face. He even has the audacity to laugh at your scrunched up expression. 

“Oh, sorry?” he chuckles, tilting his head slightly.  

“Sorry?” You flare up at him, throwing a pillow at his face. “You’re not fucking sorry!” 

At your outburst, a blanket of unease drapes the atmosphere and causes the attitudes of your housemates to go sour. Jungkook looks at the others who are all equally as shocked, except for Namjoon who looks like he’s enjoying what he sees because he is casually shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Um okay? Then I’m not sorry?” 

Huffing in disbelief, you clench your fists, tampering down the exceptional vexation that is tying knots around your throat, “Wow! And you’re taking it back now?”

Jungkook frowns, now completely exasperated and throws his hands in the air. “What the fuck do you want me to do? Make your mind, Miss Grumps.”

You gawk at him in disbelief, pointing to yourself while a humourless laugh escapes your lips, “Grumps? I’m not grumpy!” 

“Wow and I’m not hot.”

“You’re definitely not!” 

“Not only are you grumpy, you’re blind as well!” 

“Guys, stop it!” You hear one of the guys shout, but you’re too blinded by anger to turn to look at them. 

“Hey Y/N, calm down,” Sooyeon whispers, pulling you away from Jungkook. 

A surge of adrenaline through your limbs urges you to lunge forward and tackle him to the ground. But due to the choking rage that thickens at the back of your throat, you can’t seem to scream out coherently. Instead, an incoherent garble of insults escapes from your mouth.

“Jungkook, stop it – you’re going to drive Y/N mad,” Jimin pipes up from the other end of the couch, but has no real intentions of making Jungkook stop. The latter shrugs casually and turns back to the TV screen, leaving you fuming silently behind him. If looks could kill, Jeon Jungkook would be dead by now. 

By the end of the first month living with him, you’re definite that if there’s anything illegal you could do in your lifetime and get away with it, it would be to assassinate Jeon Jungkook with your bare hands. 

Jungkook has done a lot of stupid things in his twenty-one years of living, like any other dumb kid on the block. He has a full list of shall-not-be-mentioned past experiences because they’re really that absurd. Like climbing his neighbour tree and falling asleep till the next morning (and only realising that he had fucked up when a police car came to their house because yes, his parents called the freaking police to find the missing kid) and playing ghostbusters at an allegedly haunted warehouse with his brother (he caught a glimpse of a woman in white and thought he heard pained cries – and that was his consolation prize). 

So, he is proud to say that he is a man with no fears, or at least he likes to think that he is, because he knows that everyone else thinks that way too. He’s that designated friend who will catch your insects for you, go bungee-jumping without any hesitation and walk through a haunted house without screaming at all. He’s conquered all the possible fears little by little over the last twenty-one years of his life… Well, except for one. 

At 3am in the morning, he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen and staring at his one and only fear. He shudders at the thought of going near it and he doesn’t know if the churning in his stomach is due to his fear or just plain hunger – or both. He just needs to heat up his frozen pizza with the—

Oh. 

The microwave. 

The main source of his nightmares when his stomach decides to throw tantrums in the middle of the night. It’s the one fear that he has never been able to overcome because there’s always someone at home to help him microwave his food. If he’s at the convenience store, he’ll beg the staff to help him with it and he’s used to doing that – he’s proud to say that this mere desperate act has thickened his skin and boosted his courage.  

He halts in his tracks, staring blankly at the contraption, frozen pizza in hand. Well, he could just fuck it and eat it as it is, cold and sad but he could only imagine the countless of toilet runs following it. So no, thank you – he needs to heat up his pizza and he needs it ASAP before he faints from hunger. But as soon as he reaches out to the device, memories of his childhood trauma that he has been avoiding like the plague hit him square in the chest and he grimaces.  

He sees red waves of anger and hears roars of malice. Flinching, he takes a step back, fingers hovering over the open button. 

His stomach grumbles in retaliation. He stares at the refrigerator, contemplating whether he should whip up a simple dish instead of eating yet another microwavable junk (no offence to his beloved pizza), but decides against it when he opens the refrigerator for the nth time that night and gets reminded of how it contains not a single item that could be categorised as real food. There’s literally a carton of beer, a small pathetic stick of butter and a tub of kimchi, courtesy of Jimin’s mum. Well, he could just eat the entire tub of kimchi if he’s really that fearless. 

He’s really this close to eating his pizza cold until– 

“What are you doing?” 

Jungkook jumps out of his stupor, gasping unabashedly and almost drops his precious 10-inch pizza on the floor. Whirling around, he sees the bleary-eyed you propped against the entrance of the kitchen and he trips over his words at your sudden appearance. 

“Oh, h-hey Y/N…” He replies, but it sounds more like a squeak. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” 

His mouth does a weird, nervous thing that is probably supposed to be a smile but looks more like a wince.

“Once again, I live here.”

You gawk at him and the gears in your brain start to question the little remains of his own. You’re this close to biting his head off, but decide against it. Let there be peace tonight. 

Shutting his eyes, he wants nothing more than a bottomless black hole to open up before him and suck him in for good to avoid exposing his vulnerable side to you. Even a stranger could tell that you see him as an abomination – yes, you’ve made it that obvious – and he’s more than sure that the wrath of the sleepy you is tenfold worse than your normal contemptuous self. 

“What are you doing?” You repeat, because are you really interested in knowing what Jungkook’s up to at 3am? Not really. You have better things to tend to, like making your fifth cup of coffee of the day and tending to your paper that’s urgently due in less than three hours. 

“Well, the plan was to eat my pizza but I’ve got to heat it up,” he manages to sputter out, still grabbing onto his frozen cling-wrapped pizza for his dear life like a fool. As though you’re out to steal his food. 

“And…?” 

“And…”

“What?” You hiss in annoyance, squinting your eyes at him and he takes a few steps back from you. 

To be honest, you don’t even know why you’re talking to him. You should be cooped up in your room and smashing away at your keyboard, but you’ve been watching your stupid housemate stand idly in the kitchen for at least a good seven minutes, and he doesn’t look like he’s capable (or that he even has the slightest of intentions) of heating his pizza up. Well, maybe he likes his pizzas frozen and hard… Totally no judgment though. 

“Can you… Do you mind…” He mutters under his breath, staring hard at the ground and avoiding all eye contact with you. 

“What?”

“Um, I-I’m afraid of it.”

“Of what?” 

Slowly, he inches his head upwards and for the first time that night, he locks eyes with you. 

“The microwave,” he mumbles under his breath and you manage to catch it, but you question whether you’ve heard it correctly. 

Your mouth opens and then snaps closed. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything and a disbelieving “what?” floats through the appalled expanse of your mind.

He grunts loudly and buries his head in his cling-wrapped pizza. “For fuck’s sake. I’m scared of the fucking microwave.”

“W-What? Why?” 

“I’m scared that it’ll explode?” He asserts, looking away from you again. 

“Okay…” You inch closer, eyebrows raised teasingly, sarcasm laced in your voice, “So you’re making me microwave your pizza so that if it explodes… it’ll be on me—”

“W-What? No! Of course not! I just—”

A grumble from his stomach cuts him off curtly and he freezes like a rabbit caught in a snare.

Stifling a laugh, you tongue along the inside of your cheek, mulling over the proposition. Seeing how his eyes are glassy with desperation, you take his food from his grasp, stuffing it inside the microwave without hesitance. 

He backs away and cowers meekly near a cupboard when you close it shut. 

You prop your chin on your hand as you quietly watch the microwave roar to life. Behind you, Jungkook watches how your eyes follow the rotation of the plate in the microwave. Maybe because he’s starving and it’s late and he’s not thinking straight, or maybe it’s because he’s surviving on countless of bottles of Red Bull, but he thinks you look pretty like this, especially when you’re not being sarcastic or lashing it out at him. He appreciates how you don’t ridicule him further for his phobia. 

His little jump at the beep that signals that his pizza is done doesn’t go past your notice. Swiftly, you take out the plate and hand it to him. His hand brushes you gingerly when reaching for it and he beams when his pizza is finally not frozen and sad-looking. 

“Wow,” he chuckles dryly, “I didn’t think you would help me.”

"Bitch, I may be Satan’s child,” you grit, mocking his words, “But I’m not that horrible of a person to let you starve. Or eat frozen pizza for that matter. Give me some credit, will you?"

“You want some?” He mumbles with his mouth full. 

You stop to consider for awhile, but decide to fuck eating healthy. 

“Well, if you insist.”

“I didn’t. But go ahead.” 

At that point, Jungkook’s stomach grumbles for the nth time and you cannot help but grin at how dumb he looks. He laughs in return, flaunting his bunny teeth and then scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, just a little hungry.” 

"It’s okay. At least you’re not eating it straight from the freezer.”

“Hey, I was really… desperate.”

Both of you don’t realise that you’ve spent at least five minutes standing in front of the microwave, bantering with each other. For god’s sake, Jungkook still hasn’t even taken a second slice, too occupied with teasing you.  

“I’ve got to… go back. My paper’s due in," you check your watch, "Fuck, 2 hours."

With a pizza slice shoved in his mouth, he laughs at your fumbled self and mutters something along the lines of good luck and a thank you. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply lamely, brushing him off. 

You return to your room with a smile curled up on your lips. But you swear that that doesn’t at all dull the disdain you have for him. 

After that incident, Jungkook has become a ghost. Not in that way, but he and his mop of raven black hair start to appear literally fucking everywhere in your view, haunting you like the plague, as though his mere presence in the apartment is not annoying enough already. Whether you’re queuing for food, getting your daily dose of caffeine or rushing for class, he’s somehow always nearby much to your dismay. The Computer Science block isn’t even near your faculty, so you have no idea why he’s hanging around the places you frequent. He’s a bug, you swear. 

Whenever you see him, he always has a grin on, which is neither snarky or cocky but you can’t deny that he naturally carries an aura of natural confidence, which amazingly moulds into palpable cockiness whenever you’re around. 

You don’t ever acknowledge him, though sometimes he will throw himself on you, begging for your attention to piss you off further. 

Like how one day after lecture, you’ve bumped into someone on your way out of the LT, causing the person to drop his books. You’re about to apologise because it’s only everybody’s natural instinct, but your face falls when your eyes land on the culprit’s face. Jeon fucking Jungkook. 

“Y/N!” He gasps dramatically, voice laced with faux-enthusiasm, “What a great coincidence!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff as you grab his books and shove them into his chest, “You did that on purpose.”

“Now, why would I do such a thing?” He chuckles boyishly. 

“Why are you even here?” 

“To bless you with my presence. Oh and the last time I checked, we don’t have assigned spaces, or seats for that matter, in college. I can go anywhere I want.”

You open your mouth, clenching and releasing your fists to tamper down the vexation that is threatening to escape your throat. You’re cracking your brains for a witty riposte, but all you say is, “Shut the fuck up.”  

You know you’ve lost the fight. 

Shooting him one last glare, you whirl on your heel, storming away from him and out of the building. Though the chilly autumn air is welcoming, heat sits high on your cheeks. 

You’re angry. Fucking livid. You feel hopelessly tormented by his stupid grin, his stupid almond orbs and stupid, stupid smirk. 

With no better place to obtain advice and vent till your mouth runs dry, you’re grateful when Sooyeon and Jimin ask you out for dinner and you spend the entire night ranting about the very bane of your existence, in hopes that they will show you the light on how to deal with that pest. 

“He’s fucking annoying. Like I don’t understand how someone can be this childish. He’s in college, for goodness’ sake! But he’s… so fucking immature like how the fuck!” You cry out as you stab your fork into another fry. 

“I honestly don’t understand why you hate his guts,” Sooyeon says. “He’s really not that bad…”

“Sooyeon, how could you!” You place your hand against your chest in mock offence. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“She’s right though. Jungkook’s one of the most affable dudes I know and he’s not a fuckboy,” Jimin shrugs, biting into his burger. “He’s not that bad, really.”

You mull over every single interaction you’ve ever had with him. Besides the usual squabbling in the apartment, you don’t have that many non-heated (read: civil) interactions with him, but they all fill you with anger and anxiety. 

Your friends don’t understand shit. They will never understand how it feels to be Number 1 on Jeon Jungkook’s hit list. 

“He literally hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

“We are just polar opposites all right. Incompatible. It’s like he’s born to ruin my life.”

“He told me that you helped him with the microwave the other night?”

“He told you?”

“As a passing comment.”

“Right,” you clear your throat as your brows furrow, “Dude, how bitchy do you think I am?” 

“Out of 10? Maybe a solid 12,” Sooyeon teases. 

“Fuck you.”

“I said what I said.”

“I may be a heartless bitch, but I wasn’t about to let that boy starve. He just… looked so dumb standing in front of the microwave, okay? I just had to help him.”

“Who knew you had a nice bone in you?” Jimin shoots you a look and the humorous quiver of his lip is unmistakable.

“I’m nice, okay…” A little affected by their teasing, a bitter undercurrent cruises beneath your words.

“Aww sweetie, you’re nice, okay?” Sooyeon pats you on the back, “Though you act like a bitch, your heart is pure. If only people saw this side of you more often.”

Call yourself competitive, but this streak between you and Jungkook is impossible to be wiped out. He still tries to rob you of your seat in lecture and make your life a living hell with his stupid pranks and lack of proper social etiquette.

Nobody is actually surprised when the two of you come bursting through the doors during lecture at 8 freaking am for the nth time. Even your professor stops shooting you two a look that screams “what the fuck are you two on again”, but what’s more important is that you manage to reach to your seat, yes, your seat before Jungkook could beat you to it. And he spends the next two minutes scrambling to find one in the crowded LT. You can’t explain how satisfied that makes you feel.

Towards the end of the lecture, you find yourself lifting your eyes and turning towards Jungkook’s seat, only to find him already gazing directly at you. You twist your lips, rolling your eyes disdainfully, and shoot him a cold-eyed stare that has most people cowering. But Jungkook of course, is not like most people, and just stares back at you stubbornly, his gaze piercing. 

You try your best not to break the eye-contact, but it’s hard when there’s a heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. 

“You win,” he mouths out. 

You stick out your tongue at him, who reciprocates your childish antics and soon, both of you fall into a contest of who can make the ugliest face. Jungkook starts to change up his retaliation strategy, flaring his nostrils and crossing his eyes and you have to stifle your laughter throughout the lecture. 

When lecture finally ends, he’s about to pack his bag when he hears the telltale sound of a camera shutter and he whips his head around absent-mindedly. 

“D-Did you just take a photo of my face?”

“And if I did…?” You shrug, waggling your eyebrows.

“Delete it, Miss Grumps!” 

“Pay me, bitch.”

He lurches for you and hooks an arm around your neck in a headlock, hunching over your torso and nestling your face against his stomach as you squeal out of surprise. The students around you stare at the both of you blankly, confused as fuck. 

Do you guys… like or hate each other? 

“Fuck off, Jeon!” 

“Pay me, bitch!” He mimics in a pitched voice to mock you. 

You refrain the urge to screech, but there’s a wide grin playing on your lips. There’s a strange tightness in your chest – your heart is swelling and you can feel it swell everywhere, the tightness fluttering throughout every vein in your body. 

To your housemates’ relief, the intensity of your discord with Jungkook has decreased tremendously and you no longer have a strong desire to bite his head off, but old habits die hard and he’s still up your ass. 

He’d be the reason why the shoes at the entrance are always a mess, why the toilet seat is always up (at least he cleans up, thank god), why your cereal is always finishing so fast, and also the only reason why all your snacks are now on the highest shelf and you’re not exactly the most vertically inclined. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose. 

“Jeon Jungkook!” 

“Yes, Miss Grumps?” He answers from behind and you whirl around, only to shriek when you see a shirtless Jungkook in front of you, hair still damp from his shower, and rivulets of water snaking down his collarbones and down to his bare torso. He is adorned in only a pair of low hanging sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and arms and the trail of soft hair down his navel.  

“What are you doing?” You screech at him. 

“I just came out from the shower and you called for me…?” He replies in confusion, but the smirk that plays on his lips doesn’t escape your notice. 

“Why the heck are you not wearing a shirt? Do you not have enough white shirts to wear?”

“Why? Like what you see?” 

“I might just have to gauge my eyeballs out.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, grumps. And for the record, I could never have enough white shirts.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. It’s really hard to not stare at his body, or drink in the view (you’d rather die than admit that he is fucking swole), but you remind yourself of the reason why you called him in the first place. 

Pointing to the highest shelf which is painfully out of your reach after rummaging through the kitchen cabinets like a squirrel in November, you glower, “Can you kindly enlighten me as to why the heck are all my snacks up there?”

With a faux-innocent expression, he chuckles dryly, “And why do you assume I know the answer to that?”

“Because no one in this apartment is as annoying and childish as you and your shrivelling one brain cell.”

“Really? I’d say that you’d make an equally strong contender.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Jungkook’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe that vicious smirk off his lips. 

“Next time if you need help, a please would be nice.” 

“I wouldn’t need help in the first place if you stopped putting my snacks on the highest shelf.”

Shrugging, Jungkook uncoils from his slouch, rising to his full height. You draw in a furtive breath, painfully aware of how his frame looms over you, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your belly, but the sheer tactile sensation that sends a chill down your spine is electrifying. 

As he effortlessly reaches towards the highest shelf, you realise that his face is so close to yours that you could memorize the flecks of amber in his dark orbs, the curve of his mouth, the long eyelashes that frame his sparkly doe eyes, the little mole under his lip and the tresses of smooth hair falling into his eyes. 

As if on cue, his eyes land on yours. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs. He stares at you with a scrutiny that has you breathless, like he is drinking every inch of you in. 

A softness settles into the lines of Jungkook’s face, but it disappears instantly when his lips quirk in the corners.

“Now, what would you do without me?” He teases, his voice is deep in timbre and so quietly convinced that it permeates through every last ounce of irritation and you feel a flutter in your chest. 

You don’t reply. 

Jungkook continues to drink in the sight of you and the closeness of you. Heart thumping away, you suddenly find Jungkook’s hands on your waist, startling you out from your trance. He then leans closer towards you until the tips of your noses are brushing against each other. 

A blush blooms over your cheeks and snakes furiously down your neck when the sudden intimacy of the moment draws upon you. His eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his pink lips. 

A witty comeback stays bubbled in your throat at the proximity and you forget how to speak. You swear that he can practically hear the gears in your brain turning frantically because right now, you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face and how warm it feels to be pressed up against his broad frame. 

“You’re very welcome, Y/N.”

Drawing in a furtive breath, your hands fly up to shove him away. How could you think that Jungkook was decent? He’s practically a living devil. 

“Y-Yeah, whatever.”

“Geez, when will you ever start being nice to me?”

His eyes continue to search through yours, but you refuse to give him the time of the day. You just wonder why he always looks at you like that, with the annoyingly bright glint in his eyes. 

“When you stop being annoying.”

“But I will never stop annoying you.” 

He pinches your nose and you freeze once again, warmth scattering over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh at the sudden contact. 

His words are laced with a hint of ardour, but he does his best to conceal it as a small smile appears on his lips. “Good night, grumps.”

“Nights,” you mumble under your breath as he retreats back into his room. 

Gaping blankly at Jungkook’s bedroom door, you raise a hand to rest on your cheek as warmth continues to flare in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink. 

Back in the quiet confines of your bedroom, you spend a lot less time completing your work as you should, and a lot more daydreaming about firm arms and twinkling eyes. You can’t deny that he has really pretty eyes. And a nice bod, if you might add. 

You think back to the smile that he flashes you. His smile isn’t one of those sarcastic ones that he wears when he’s challenging you, but a genuine one that makes the stars in his eyes come to live, waving to you with their little glowing hands.  

This is not good.  

The warmth at the pit of your stomach never leaves – it has wholly decided that it’s here to stay. As long as Jungkook is involved.  

A loud, piercing siren jolts you out of your sleep and you grouchily turn to glare at your clock. The luminous numbers of 3:19am scream at you and it takes every ounce of your being not to scream back at it. 

“Fire drill, guys!” One of your roommates – you think it’s Jimin but everyone kind of sounds the same with hoarse voices at 3am – shouts over the shrilling pain. “Get your asses out of your beds!” 

Groaning loudly while making a mental count of the minutes of precious sleep you’re about to waste, you pull yourself out of bed and rush out of the dorm without fumbling for your jacket. That’s a very bad decision, you realise, because it’s fucking freezing outside. 

Amidst the sea of blur faces, loud groans and unabashed yawns under the moonlight, a particular back catches your attention, alongside the dishevelled bed hair and long limbs clad in a bright yellow jacket. You squint your eyes at the particular colour of the outfit and you realise that it’s a fucking Pikachu sleeping set.

And it belongs to none other than Jungkook. 

“Jeon,” you grumble beneath your breath. 

He does an absentminded turn and gawks blatantly at you, before breaking into a chortle, doubling over. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Me? Your eyes trail down to your pyjamas and you freeze for an infinitesimal moment, as if paralysed when your old and worn-out Pooh Bear shirt and pink floral pants come into view. Really, what the fuck are you wearing. Considering that this is hell week, you haven’t had time to breathe, let alone have time to do laundry, so you could only settle with your old Pooh Bear shirt. 

Biting back your embarrassment, you hiss, “What the fuck? At least I’m not wearing a Pikachu sleeping set.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult my precious childhood friend like that.” 

He feigns aggravation, but the expression on his face is a cross between amusement and endearment, and the way it makes your heart soar terrifies you.

“You’re impossible,” you let out a hearty laugh. 

At this, Jungkook feels a little warm inside his chest. He kind of wants to hear this laugh more and often. Believe it or not, even in your sleepy state, he thinks that you look lovely. 

He opens his mouth, ready to continue the banter, but someone calls your name from behind and you turn away from him.  

“Y/N!” 

“Oh hey, Jooheon.”

You have Ethics class with him, but you’re not that close for him to come up to talk to you. Heck, you didn’t even know that he stays in this block. 

“I can’t believe they have a fire drill at this timing. That’s like… illegal.”

Beside you, Jungkook has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Jooheon notices that the latter’s loitering awkwardly around you and glaring intently at him, but chooses to ignore his piercing stare. 

“Right, so um, you needed something?” You ask, cocking your head slightly. 

“Oh no, just thought I’d say hi. You look cute in your PJs.”  

Even though this is Jungkook’s first time meeting this Jooheon dude, he already decides that he doesn’t like him. Not even one bit. Jungkook’s usually great with psycho-analysing people at first sight and there’s something immediately off about Jooheon. He can feel it in his bones. 

He continues to glare intently at Jooheon and then he realises that the jerk is blatantly staring at your boobs. You’re not wearing a bra and your worn-out Pooh Bear shirt does nothing to hide your nipples that are now perky from the cold. 

“So Y/N, do you want to go out—”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches on cue, causing you to jump in shock. 

You jerk your head at your housemate’s sudden outburst and thank god for him, because you don’t really want to listen to the end of Jooheon’s question. Jungkook’s doe-like eyes, which are notably round like a deer caught in the headlights, are now narrowed angrily and the deep crease between his eyebrows mars his honeyed skin, further accentuated beneath the hazy yellow lamplight.

“What—”

You’re about to ask what’s up with him, before he cuts you off by grabbing hold of your wrist, tugging you away from Jooheon’s predatory gaze. 

“For fuck’s sake Y/N, c-can you please?” 

“What?”

Jungkook strips himself out of his oversized hoodie and unabashedly throws it over your head as you scream at his abrupt antic, struggling to rid yourself of his hoodie. 

“Just keep it on!” He seethes in conviction, wrestling the hoodie down on you and you realise that it smells so potently him.  

“Why?”

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he whispers sternly in disbelief, teeth clenched, as his gaze slips southward from your face. His arms fold indignantly over his chest in rage and you blatantly ignore how the lean muscles of his biceps peek out of the sleeves of his thin white shirt. 

“O-Oh… Right. Shit, sorry.”

You flush from the tips of your ears down your neck. Your fingers start to pick at a frayed thread of his hoodie under the weight of his intense starry-eyed gaze. Lowering your eyes, you stare at how your frame is drowning in his hoodie and think about your dear Pooh Bear smiling underneath the soft cotton. It looks big on you, but it makes you feel so warm, causing a tingling warmth of sweet honey gold to reach even to your own fingertips. 

“Keep the hoodie on till we get back,” he mutters, his raspy voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

He settles his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to your other housemates. You ignore how tall he is beside you, how protective he is over you, how gallant you thought he was when he just tugged you away from Jooheon. You ignore how his signature scent wafts through the air. It’s a comforting, homey that rests softly on your nose. 

As you walk to your apartment with Jungkook and the rest with his arm still around you, a subconscious smile pulls at your lips until your cheeks ache and you don’t care if people think you’re on crack for smiling so widely at 3am after a fire drill, because the sound of your erratic heartbeats echoes louder than any siren.  

Vines are entangling the hole in your heart, buds sprouting on the outskirts.

Your heart is blooming. 

And you don’t know how to feel about this. 

It’s a Friday night, which means that you, being the homebody you are, have holed yourself in your room, content with a cup of hot tea and your laptop, while your housemates are out partying and having a life. 

You’re on the way to the kitchen to refill your tea when you pass by Jungkook’s room. His door is left slightly ajar, though the room is dark and your footsteps come to a halt. Jungkook normally leaves his door shut, while the others like to keep it open regardless of whether they’re in or not. Curious, you slowly walk towards the door, peeping in through the side of the door frame.

And the view that lies upon you leaves you in utter shock, rendering you speechless. Your jaw drops, your mind losing all semblance of focus while your train of thought diminishes like an exploded lightbulb. 

The room is pitch dark, except for the moonlight filtering through his gossamer curtains. But you can see Jungkook clearly. On his bed where he lies. Bare thighs caressed by his fluffy blankets, boxers tugged down to his ankles, and thighs spread apart. 

You know he is swole, but damn seeing his naked body in its fullest glory? Fuck. For the longest time, your eyes linger on the very harsh lines and sculpted muscles of his hard toned thighs. You’ve never mentioned this to anyone, too ashamed, but you do know how to appreciate nice thighs. And Jungkook’s? The bomb. Hella thick. But your eyes almost bulge out when you realise the very reason why he has his head tossed back and eyes shut closed. 

He’s jerking himself off. 

Gulping to yourself, your very first instinct is to pretend that you didn’t catch him in the act and simply go back to what you wanted to do in the first place – to refill your tea, but your eyes can’t seem to look away from his hand that’s tightly gripping around his throbbing length, which peeps out every now and then as he pumps himself vigorously. 

Your eyes trail up to his golden skin, his chest that’s glistening with beads of sweat and the hazy expression on his face and then southwards again to the popping veins on his arms, his sculptured abdomen and even lower, to the line of hair and veins trailing towards his aching length. Caressing his slit with his thumb, he spreads pre-cum all over his tip and continues stroking his dick at a fast pace. 

You can’t even count how many times you’ve cursed within the last minute, your mind a clouded, salacious haze. 

What’s dirtier than your subconscious thoughts of wanting to suck Jungkook dry and be fucked by him into the next century is the hoarse moans and sweet whimpers escaping his lips, reverberating through the room. The lucid squelching and sticky sounds from his hand and wet dick are absolutely sinful, but so, so tantalising to your ears and wetness starts to pool between your thighs.

He suddenly sits up and throws his boxers on the ground and for a moment, you think that you’ve been caught red-handed and quickly hide behind the door. But instead, he grabs his pillow and positions it underneath his crotch, slowly rocking his lips against it. Within the slightest of seconds, he starts to grind against it, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. His teeth even sink into his bottom lip to suppress the moans threatening to escape his lungs with each grind. 

"Oh god, Y/N," he whimpers, once more looking down at his pillow between his legs, precum smeared all over the pillowcase. 

You freeze. 

What the fuck. Did he just moan your name? 

You’re supposed to oppose to this, scream at him for getting off to you. But at the sound of your name, a primal instinct has been instigated deep inside you, lighting up a hungry flame within you. You shouldn’t be eavesdropping to Jungkook getting off, but what the fuck. The way he’s moaning your name so keenly, as if it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world, spikes goosebumps along your arms. His moans are so hot and filthy that you’re panting softly at the increasing volume of his honey-dipped voice and you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, grabbing the pillow closer to him so that he can buck against it better. “Babe, fuck yeah.” 

As he continues to moan louder, heat travels through your body in electric arcs, paralysing you and tensing your muscles. 

He’s suddenly arching up and you watch as his hands go back to wrap around his cock. He pumps himself faster and sloppier than before, determined to reach his climax. After a few seconds, he stutters before letting out an ardent groan, enjoying the waves of pleasure that deafens all of his senses. You watch with wide eyes as he milks out spurts of cum onto his clenched abs and pillow, still moaning your fucking name unabashedly. 

Chest rising and falling in quick succession, a stupid hazy smile then plays on his lips and heat returns to simmer under your skin, tingling your cheeks a bright cherry red. There’s this insinuating urge coursing your veins, causing your pussy to quiver in need. Your panties are all soaked.

Fuck. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to sit on his dick. 

Let’s be honest here: there have been some changes in your relationship with Jungkook. He has been occupying more and more of your mind. The memory of him in his bed with that fucked-out smile of his keeps resurfacing in your mind like a bad heartburn. It has you weak in the knees. You can’t stop thinking about his face. And his fucking dick. And him dry-humping his pillow. 

You can’t stop thinking about Jungkook and him stroking his dick, coming while moaning your name for fuck’s sake. 

You don’t stop repeating the scene of his hand around his dick going up and down until you hear it: the scraping of a key inside its lock. You listen to the familiar sounds of Jungkook kicking off his shoes on the floor, and then two seconds later, he’s appearing in the entryway to the living room, his charm already so damn loud in the stillness of the apartment.

At the very sight of his face, the many lewd images of your housemate flash before you. You grimace at the taunting visual, suddenly remembering that you were nearly overcome with your desire to lick every inch of his golden skin and suck his aching dick. 

This is going to be awkward. 

Sensing that you are extra quiet because you’re not barking at him about god’s knows what, he saunters over to the living area where you are mindlessly scrolling through your phone, “Hey, you okay, Miss Grumps?” 

“Yeah, just… tired,” you croak awkwardly. 

“Don’t you have classes till 7pm?”

“You remember my schedule?”

“Y-Yeah? You always come back late on Thursdays.”

“O-Oh right,” you mutter. Your other housemates remember your class schedule and it’s totally normal so that they know when to expect you, but somehow it’s different when it’s with Jungkook. 

“Decided to skip class today. Wasn’t feeling well.”

A look of concern flashes across his face. Dropping his bag on the floor, he walks towards you and presses the back of his hand on your forehead, worry burning at the edges of his regularly-cocky tone. “A-Are you okay?”

Your face burns at the touch of his skin and you tense up instantly. 

Sensing that you’re all flustered, like there’s a fire in your stomach and the sparks are floating up into the darkness of your eyes, he jokes, “You’re not extra grumpy for someone sick. That’s strange.” 

“Shut it, would you?”

“Alright, I take it back.” 

He pauses for awhile, looking at you up and down before adding, “Is that my hoodie?”

Tilting your head slightly, you instantly look down and gawk at your outfit. You’re wearing your favourite black Puma hoodie – what is he going on about? You are wearing your hoodie… except that it’s 2 sizes larger.  

You bring up your sleeve to smell the fabric and then it hits you. A familiar and refined homey scent, mixed together with your honeysuckle perfume. The familiar awakening tingle shoots down your spine once again. 

“Oh my fuck, shit I’m sorry,” you proceed to tug it over your head. 

“It’s cool, you can keep it.”

“What? You don’t want it back?”

“What? I-I mean, it looks good on you.” There’s an uncharacteristically softness that invaded his velvety voice, “So keep it.”

You look up at his face. You can’t place his expression exactly – it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but the way it makes your heart pitter patter terrifies you. It’s like you’ve just been drenched by a downpour. A downpour of something you’re not sure you understand or ready to understand. 

You try to pretend that you haven’t been nuzzling your nose into the hoodie the entire day because it smells like home. You’re just frightened of how much you’ve grown to adore it. 

Jungkook doesn't know if there has ever been a thicker or a more dense tension hanging in the air around the two of you and it only seems to be getting heavier with each bated breath. He has a difficult time trying to develop a grasp of diction as he stands in the doorframe of your room, gripping the doorknob with a bit more force than usual, staring at the girl before him. 

He finds you hacking away on your laptop, surrounded by mountains of papers and highlighters sprawled all over your desk. He knows better than to disturb you when you’re deep in concentration, but he has accidentally bought too much food and figures that he could share some with you. 

Jungkook realises one thing: no matter what you’re doing, he always finds himself sneaking glances at you. He likes watching how your eyes narrow when you’re concentrating, your little mannerisms – like the little pout on your lips when you’re keyboard smashing and how you tend to crack your knuckles when you’re stressed. He doesn’t even know he has taken in all of your little habits and registered them into his brain, but what he knows is that: his eyes always search for you, no matter where and when. Whenever your eyes light up with a smile to match, he feels as if he might as well be caught on fire. 

He hasn’t called out for you yet, because he knows that you love to drown yourself in loud music when you’re studying so he stalks over to your desk and gently taps you on the shoulder. 

You jump slightly when you feel a hand on your shoulder and sigh loudly when it’s just Jungkook and his stupid wide grin. 

But your eyes soften at this smile. His doe eyes are crescent-like whenever he smiles – they’re always so bright and expressive with a mesmerising, enticing gleam. 

“Have you eaten?” 

Removing your earpiece, you shrug, trying to maintain an unfazed expression, “All I had today was coffee and stress.” 

Jungkook gives you the bitchiest eyeroll and brushes off the sarcasm – he probably has grown jaded to it by now. 

“I bought take-out for us but it’s cold now, so…”

You suppress the smile that threatens to play on your lips and nod. He doesn’t even need to say it explicitly – you know exactly what he’s inferring. 

“We definitely need to stop eating take-out and microwavable food. That shit be nasty.” 

You two walk down the corridor to the kitchen in comfortable silence, arms brushing against one another. He turns to look at you quietly and gets so distracted by how otherworldly you look that it takes him a moment to hand you the food in his hand. 

Nobody is hogging the living room – Sooyeon and Jimin are on a date and Namjoon is probably asleep like a log. The windows in the living room are left open and the chilly air is welcoming, embracing you two in a comfortable silence; in your private alone-time. 

After heating up the food while Jungkook sets the table (which just includes getting banana milk for both of you – he doesn’t mind sharing them with you now), you settle down on the seat opposite him and soon become fall into a comfortable conversation. Of course, it includes your usual bantering.  

“So… when did you start, you know, having a phobia of microwaves?” 

He raises an eyebrow before letting out a slight chuckle, “When I was 6… I put an egg in the microwave.”

“You did what?”

“Yeah, I stupidly did that. The egg exploded and it was loud and so scary and I got scarred after that incident… So yeah, I haven’t touched a microwave ever since.”

“But you live off microwavable food, what the heck? Then what about heating up food at convenience stores?” 

“I’ll ask the staff or an innocent nice-looking customer to help me?” 

“Then how are you going to survive in college? You live in a dorm, microwavable food is basically your life,” you chastise. 

“Well…” 

“Well?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” 

His voice is infused with honey and velvet. Something about his tone sets a pit of warmth in your stomach. 

You look back at Jungkook and find him already staring back at you. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting. 

“W-What?”

You notice Jungkook’s rapidly drumming his fingers against the table, while chewing on his lower lip. 

He’s nervous. 

“Um I-I mean, you’re always here for me to annoy! And the guys are here to help me too, so I think I’d survive.”

“Geez, I swear you’re only nice to me because I’m here to save your ass. If the microwave ever explodes while I’m heating up your food, you’re going to pay by taking care of me till I grow old,” you tease as he laughs, giving your arm a little nudge. 

You observe how his whole face lights up, how his eyes crinkle in the corners and his smile is so large that his nose scrunches up adorable. The laughter reverberates through the kitchen, bouncing off the walls like bells. 

You just don’t know how and when you’ve become so comfortable with his presence, but sarcasm has always been your go-to with him, especially since it helps to cover up how your voice is two tones higher whenever he’s around as of lately. Also, because saying “I hate you” is easier than saying “I actually like talking to you and when you’re not bothering me, it feels weird like there’s something missing in my life” and “your laugh is actually really nice, can you laugh more often”.

Jungkook’s feet are still beating rhythms into the leg of the dining table, his hand mindlessly stirring his long-cold noodles. He feels a little ridiculous to be happy about eating with you, especially now that the conversation has dialled down to nothing more than chewing and sipping. Every so often, he will glance up at you as he brings his chopsticks to his lips. 

"So… How come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?"

"Huh?"

"You’re just nicer than usual…?” He trails off, “It’s kind of weird."

"Well, I can kick your shin right now if you want?" You bite with every inch of sarcasm you can muster, but anyone could tell that your tone is fond. 

He laughs again, a low, velvety rumble from deep inside his chest and your lips curl up as well. The smile that you give Jungkook over the rim of your bowl is so unexpectedly bright that it makes something bubbly and yellow swell inside of Jungkook and he reflexively smiles in return, bright and honey-sweet. 

You can feel Jungkook staring at you, only inches away – staring at you like that, like you’re the light of the moon, like you hold the stars in the night sky with your very palm. So you pretend to be occupied with slurping your leftover broth, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. Maybe that’s why you end up spilling your food, but you spill it half the time on your own anyway. 

You jump slightly when the liquid dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Ah, shit,” you say, quickly wiping away the mess off your chin. 

You’re about to ask for a napkin when you feel fingers cupping your face. With the pad of his thumb, Jungkook brushes the underside of your chin. It’s a playful gesture, but also so affectionate that it’s very unlike of Jungkook and you freeze up as if paralysed. 

Leaning in, he’s so close that you can feel the flutter of Jungkook’s breath on your face, how it hitches and quickens. You stop fidgeting, eyes focused on Jungkook who quietly wipes away the liquid on your face with his thumb. He’s still staring straight at you without a word, and you see that same soft sparkle in his eyes that does nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of your chest. 

Looking into his eyes is like sitting close to a fire that suddenly blazes up. Slowly, you feel a smile growing steady across your face, and even though your heart has been racing this entire time with Jungkook by your side, it manages to beat a little faster.

Jungkook, for the life of him, suddenly realises that he has a huge, embarrassing and debilitating crush on you one fine day and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. It’s opposite of the saying – surprised, but not disappointed. 

If someone were to ask him exactly why he has fallen for you, in which nobody would since he is insanely good at hiding it and he has never told a soul, the answer would be simple. Underneath your tough exterior and sky-high walls, you’re so full of love and your heart is more delicate and softer than anyone else’s.

After a full semester living together, you two have grown more comfortable with one another and your interactions go beyond just bantering with each other and eating microwavable food together. On Fridays where everyone else would be out, sometimes you two would watch a movie together and that has become a routine that you guys follow religiously.

Today isn’t an exception. You two are huddled on the couch, sharing a blanket and relishing in the warmth and comfort of each other’s body heat. 

Upon coming to a realisation of his feelings, the flutter in Jungkook’s chest has become more obvious and more out of control – his heartbeats are a perpetual merciless staccato rhythm whenever you’re around. 

The Avengers is playing on the screen – it’s your turn to pick this week and while he loves Marvel, he pays no attention to the movie because you’re comfortably curled up beside him. 

Delirious with exhaustion, you roll over to face him, your body already sinking into the softness of the sofa. You snuggle up closer to him, pressing your chest against his arm and you wonder when he started to feel like safe harbour. 

Instinctively, his fingers reach out for yours and he starts to play with them, rubbing circles onto your palm with his thumb. He strokes up your wrist, before bringing your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your hand. You tilt your heads towards his and you can see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes, so warm and soft.

He looks like a dream, tan skin and dark hair, lit golden in the light from the TV screen. 

You heart ricochets in your chest, skipping a beat and you feel the need to hold onto something, so you grab onto his sleeve. Eyes tracking over his face, mapping over every curve of his facial features, you feel a smile slowly growing across your face at this intimacy. 

Silence hangs between the two of you and you can almost feel Jungkook’s eyes tracing the line of your collarbone where it disappears inside your sweater, his thick and dark eyelashes fluttering just a fraction with each breath.  

A cherry blossom blush blooms over his face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. Jungkook reaches up and brushes the underside of your chin with the pad of his calloused thumb. This gesture, so affectionate and ginger, prompts another smile to creep on your lips. 

He lets out a soft chuckle, locking eyes with you as if spellbound by the sparkly glint in your eyes. 

“Are you okay with this?” He asks in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning into your space. His voice, deep in timbre and infused with honey and velvet, washes every last rational thought of yours and you feel a flutter in your chest, running through your veins like blossoms of gold.

And you nod without thinking. 

In the briefest of moments, Jungkook leans in, palms cradling your blushing visage, and brushes his lips over your grin, so lightly that it feels like you’re swimming in a field of fully-blossomed roses. At the softness of his lips against yours, your stomach coils. 

When you feel the supple skin of his lips meld against your teeth, you push back fervently. It's an amalgamation of teeth, mumbled names and unspoken feelings that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you have imagined and more. 

Hooking your fingers in the collar of Jungkook’s shirt, you inch closer and you can hear his heartbeats, which almost sound akin to the rush of the ocean in a seashell.

It’s a little less gentle now. He nips harder at your bottom lip, rolling the flesh in between his teeth gently before trailing his lips down your jaw and to your neck. You sigh loudly in bliss when he sucks faint lilac bruises into your skin, as if determined to ensure that they’ll be clearly visible tomorrow and that you’ll curse at him for marking you with spots that even your best makeup couldn’t cover up. 

His fingers start to skirt beneath your blouse, tracing circles on your waist and slowly snaking their way up. Even when your tongues are entangled in a hot battle, it is sensual and romantic. It doesn’t help that Jungkook keeps making such sweet, lulling noises, like someone is plucking at his heartstrings, creating a melody just for you. All because of you. 

The very thought of that makes your body tingle with warmth from the tip of your fingers to the hollow space of your heart. 

Hands wandering south, you can’t help but slide your fingers under his shirt and drag them over the planes of his abs. His body is warm and it’s making your head spin, tugging furiously at your heartstrings too. You want to get his shirt off and see all of Jungkook. Your heart feels like summer rain, warm, light and pattering. You want to melt into him. 

Parting from you moments later with swollen lips, he doesn’t break eye contact from you and you see stars in his eyes that shine nothing but ardent adoration and fondness for you. 

There is a sharp tug of fear and discord in your chest and you feel your heart drop. 

Then everything clicks. 

This is wrong. So wrong. 

“Jungkook,” you whimper, his name leaving your parted lips in a dulcet whisper. Your heart spikes in your chest and your stomach unravels and knots again. When you let go of his shirt, you feel like you’ve let go of a piece of your heart. You feel like puking. 

“Y-You’re someone special to me, Jungkook.”

He feels his soul pitfall into the depths of his stomach, knowing very well that there’s a ‘but’ coming next. 

“That’s, um, nice,” he says, feeling his face and throat flush. “You’re special to me too.”

Looking deep into his orbs, you realise this: he has heart eyes for you, like you hold his entire world with your mere breath. 

And to be very honest, you’re terrified.  

“But I-I can’t, Jungkook.”

There’s a long pause and the silence presses against you, weighing so heavy that you feel like you’re being suffocated. The voice that crawls out of your lungs barely feels like your own and you’re not sure if you mean what you say. The words sting like nettle leaves on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”

A wave of panic cuts through the pins and needles pricking down your spine as he remains quiet. You half-expected him to make a sarcastic comment or smirk at you for punking you with the kiss. Instead, he’s just staring at you blankly and his vacant expression is an abyss – it’s unnerving. 

Jungkook maintains his silence like the moon and the silence in between you continues for moments and moments, as if the world has come to a halt. It’s so quiet that you could hear the erratic thumping of your hearts. 

Then he opens his mouth. “Oh, okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats succinctly, sounding more helpless by each second, “If that’s what you want.”

The raw helplessness in his voice fights against the walls in your heart. It’s tearing down the walls, clawing aggressively at them, hopelessly yearning that they’ll crumble down for him. 

“I’ll just… give you some space,” he starts to stand up, shoulders drooped low, unable to meet your worried eyes. 

When he spins on his heels towards the door, instead of going after him, all you do is gape at his departing silhouette for the longest time and then at the shut door, your heart painfully swelling up to the size of the sun. 

You feel your entire world dissolve in slow motion.

Deep down, tucked within a crevice of your heart, you know you want to be as close to him as possible. You want him all to yourself. But you’re unsure. 

You’re not sure how to express the depth of what you feel for him or how you’ve grown to love the little things about him. Like how he makes a big pot of coffee and comes into your room to hand you a warm cup every morning, how he sings softly to himself in his room when he thinks nobody is listening, or how he’s always teasing you and making you laugh. How he always looks for you whenever he needs to heat up his food, even when the others are at home. How he brings you peace when there’s a perpetual whirlpool in your mind. When you’re with him, you realise that the weight of the multiverse on you doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

You don’t know how to tell him all these in words and actions and you’re a writer for fuck’s sake. But what you do know is that you never want to see that sad expression on his face ever again. 

If there’s one you are especially – and notoriously – horrible at, it would be dealing with your feelings, namely feelings for Jeon Jungkook. Truth is, you hate yourself and you’ve been a complete wreck ever since that day. 

“Jungkook.” 

Ears perking up at the name, you snap out of your trance and tilt your head upwards. “Wha—where?” 

The sound of his name is like blunt nails being hammered into your heart, until the organ is left nothing but a bloody, useless pulp. 

“He’s not here, dumb ass. I just thought that saying his name would be more effective than calling your own name,” Namjoon says, giving your forehead a little flick, “I’ve been calling you for the past minute.”

“Oh sorry—”

“You’re whipped.”

“What?” 

“You like Jungkook,” Namjoon says matter-of-factly. 

You tense up instantly and a deafening silence descends. 

Eyes soft and unassuming, he flashes you a soft smile and his face is doing that thing where he gazes at you like you’re made of glass and he can see through your heart and soul. Namjoon, out of all people, knows that a soft and feeble heart is hidden behind that attitude and sharp tongue of yours. 

An involuntary sigh escapes your lips and you bury your face into your palms as your suspire lowers into an interminable groan. The uncomfortable, electrifying sensation that you associate only with one name crawls up your spine, like a colony of ants marching on your skin. 

Namjoon’s right. 

Jungkook has exploded into your life like a firework: bright, loud, and so dearly ethereal. It’s his bright doe eyes and boyish bunny smile that caught you off-guard during your first encounter with him. And somehow or another, he has waltzed his way into your life ever since, seamlessly, like the last piece to your puzzle.

You do notice how your heart becomes all erratic and out of control when he's around. Throbbing, threatening to demolish your steel, collected demeanour into bits. He makes you feel like the female character of a trashy teenage romance novel and as much as you hate the idea of feeling like a 12-year-old, if it’s with Jungkook, it’s fine. 

It’s as if you two are meant to gravitate towards each other, fill up the void in each other’s lives and soak in each other’s comforting presence. Ignore your initial hatred for him – you’ve actually grown to enjoy the sweet calm of Jungkook’s presence and company, and even that itself is an understatement. He has planted himself into your life so well that it’ll be freaking strange if you decide to push him out of your life. You don’t think you can’t function properly. 

No bathroom singing, no messy sofa, no seat stealer, no microwave adventures. No intimate touches. No bunny smiles or boyish chuckles. No one to make you smile and laugh as though life isn’t tearing you down every second. 

You love hearing Jungkook laugh. His laughter is a metaphor that you’ve been trying to pen down for years. And his smile? It’s a radiance of ardent adoration. Utterly beautiful. 

And then there’s the other thing – something embarrassing that took forever for you to realise and even longer for you to admit it to yourself. 

But you know now and your heart is screaming.  

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper back, feeling like the bits and pieces of your brain are coming together. 

“You want to date him,” Namjoon raises his brows at your confession. 

“I think so?” 

“Hold his hand and cuddle together?”

“Yes.”

“Suck his dick?”

“Ye—God, Namjoon! What’s up with your filthy mouth?”

“Dude, don’t act all demure with me.”

“I’m still not talking to you about wanting to fuck Jungkook.” 

He rolls his eyes, but the grin on his lips says otherwise. 

“But that’s great, Y/N. Took you years to acknowledge your feelings. But just to let you know, the kid has been waiting for you to come back home every night. You should go talk to him.”

No matter what you tell yourself or whatever insecurities you have, there is truth that you’ve always had a place reserved for Jungkook in your heart, nestled between fragile hopes and waning kindness.

The boy makes your heart sing. He’s got a soft, sweet heart, a ripe mango of a heart, yellow and full. In between the bantering sessions and microwave misadventures, you have accidentally and unquestionably very much fallen in love with Jungkook.  

But you don’t know what to do. 

What you know is that you need to talk to him. 

The stillness of the hour makes the walls lurch even more seismic when you open the front door, expecting the apartment to be pitch dark. You assume that nobody would be in the living room at this timing and Jungkook would be holed up in his room watching anime or perhaps at a party, chugging down shots as an attempt to forget you and move on with his life because you’re a heartless bitch and he deserves so much better. 

However, the little lamp at the corner is lit up and when you walk towards the couch, you see Jungkook curled up on it, drowning in his big hoodie and looking softer than ever. His left cheek is squished from where he is lying down on the pillow. 

You heart gnaws at the sight of him and it hurts even more when you realise that he is waiting for you to return. 

He stirs in his sleep upon hearing footsteps and fully jerks awake when he hears your voice. 

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing against the scar of his cheekbone. He slurs in response, turning his face into the curve of your palm and brings his hand to caress the back of your hand, causing your heart to snap. 

“You’re back,” he announces breathlessly, like he couldn’t believe it. He stares at you with forlorn eyes and you only spare him a half-second glance before turning away, seemingly disgruntled.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly says.  

“What? Why are you—”

“Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he mutters with a softness that invaded his velvety voice.

“Don’t say sorry,” you reach out to grasp his hand, rubbing your thumb onto his palm, “I should be the one apologising.”

“No—”

“Jungkook – listen,” you settle yourself on the couch beside him, “I don’t know what I want. That’s part of the problem.”

You sigh, “I want something from you, but I don’t know what. I don’t know how to name it or quantify it. I don’t like not knowing what to do.”

Jungkook peers up at you through his bangs, deep in thought and even in his sleepy state, he knows exactly that he never wants to let you go. He doesn’t want to lose you. He wants this.  

“It’s okay, Y/N—”

“I’m too cynical, always too sceptical. Too mean for anyone. I’m also a fucking dumb hopeless romantic. I want a lot of things, Jungkook. I want to love… but I don’t know if I know how to? I’m not sure if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he whispers, “I really do. I’m scared too, like really fucking scared. What if I hurt you? What if I don’t love you right? What if one day we might not be the same anymore?” 

You lower your head in fear, feeling a ripple of anxiety pass across your chest at the thought of the future and Jungkook swears he can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically. 

“But we never know until we try, right? And I… want to try with you. Because it’s with you.”

You curl closer to him, taking in the pleasantly warm and comforting scent of him and he brings you to a warm embrace, pressing little kisses to your forehead. 

Silence weaves itself into the spaces of everything around the two of you. It’s comfortable – you feel like you’re finally at home. 

It could be due to the fatigue or the way he’s looking at you, so intently, but you find yourself blurting out without a thought.  

“Your heart,” you mumble, pressing your hand over his chest and taking in the ghost of Jungkook’s warm breath on your face, “is beating so fast.”

You gaze closely at his visage and drink in the view – his messy bed hair, slightly flushed cheeks, soft pouty lips – and right at this very moment, you can confirm that you’re really stupidly besotted with him. You swear Jungkook has never looked more beautiful than in that moment of him softly gazing at you with a devotion that you can never find in anybody else. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a soft smile, “It’s always like this when you’re around.”

“D-Did you just flirt with me?” 

There’s a tickle that dances across his lips, a sparkle of mirth glimmering in his eyes. “Have been for the past few months, but thanks for noticing.”

A blush paints your cheeks fervently, while your heart is doing a fucking waltz even though it knows shit about dancing, the rest of you nothing but moonlight and air. 

“Do you think… you’ll give us a chance?” He whispers earnestly, a tone three notches deeper and your heart gnaws at how gentle and careful he is with you. 

Us. 

“Jungkook, you have all my heart,” you whisper softly, “You always did.”

The most adorable of smiles slowly forms on his face and it feels like everything stands still around you. You feel the warmth of Jungkook’s palms cradling your blushing features, while he strokes your cheeks lightly with his thumb. A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own.

In that split second where you’re relishing in the ghost of his breath against his face, he leans forward and brushes his lips over yours so gingerly that it’s akin to the caress of a feather. The euphoric feeling of Jungkook’s soft lips on yours directly connects to the bones in your legs and turns them to jelly. 

For moments and moments, you swear you could see fireworks and the galaxies splayed out above you.  

He feels you softening like clay and relenting to the otherworldly sensation as he traces the tender flesh of your lower lip, the shape of his mouth quieting the chaos in your head. He can taste your heartbeat at the tip of your tongue.

Jungkook slackens his jaw, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazes along your lower lip before instantly meeting yours, tangling for dominance. He can’t resist himself any longer. He wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for so long. He nips lightly at your lower lip and smirks when an unexpected gasp falls from your mouth. 

He alternates between licking into your mouth hungrily and sucking on your lower lip and tongue. He kisses you slow and deep, all seeking tongue and teeth, making you into him desperately, all passion and open mouths.

Trailing south, his lips plant a tentative kiss on your jawline and then on your neck. He takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a blossoming bruise begins to form. Your breath catches in your throat, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. He feels you lean against him, craning your neck to give him better access to dust lovebites all over your supple skin. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp, relishing in the warmth from his chest. 

He hums in response, a low rumbling sound that vibrates against your chest and it seems to ignite something in both of you. 

You run your hands over Jungkook’s stomach, down his narrow waist and the bottom of his ribcage, your fingers softly brushing against his happy trail. He tenses up immediately and you stifle a giggle, fascinated by the flutter of his muscles as he breathes when you touch a new spot of his body or graze your teeth over his tongue. 

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you thought about running your tongue along the tautness of his stomach, or how his jaw might clench when you wrap your lips around his dick. 

You want him.

And he wants you too. You can feel it in the way he kisses. How eager he’d be to fuck you dry even if that meant getting caught red-handed by your roommates with his pants around his knees, balls deep in your guts in the fucking kitchen. 

“You make me so hard all the time it’s not even fucking funny,” he laughs dryly, looking at you in endearment. 

“You know… I saw you masturbating the other night.”

“W-What? When?” 

You bite your lower lip at the lewd mental image. “A few weeks ago, you were…”

“What was I doing?” The smallest of smirks starts to tug at his lips. He’s challenging you. 

“You were… stroking yourself…”

“And?”

“… Humping your pillow and calling out for me.”

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans, nuzzling his face into your neck, “You’ve got such a dirty mouth.”

“You asked me where you were doing!”

“Did you like what you saw though?”

“I—”

Leaning towards your ears, he lowers his tone and whispers, “You always make me fucking hard, I think I need to punish you for that. Bet you’ll like that, won’t you?”

“Jungkook, what—” 

“You got to make it up to me, Miss Grumps. Have a taste of your own medicine.”

“You calling me Miss Grumps totally ruined the mood.”

“Sorry… babe?” He chuckles for a lack of a better response. 

You smile again, feeling a ripple of molten and saccharine sweet longing ease its way up your belly at the endearment. 

Your eyes track over his visage, his dark eyes glassy with unadulterated adoration and love as he attacks you with kisses all over your face. You can’t hold back the little whimpers that escape your throat and Jungkook ardently swallows every single one, grateful for every single noise you make. 

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath laboured and potent with lust.

Pressing his lips all over your throat, wet and messy and wonderful, you whimper when he sucks hardly just beneath your jaw that has got you quivering and that only prompts him to suck on it harder. 

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you’ve thought of this – him planting hickeys all over your neck, or you running your tongue along the tautness of his stomach, or how his jaw might clench when you took him into your mouth.

“Jungkook,” you break out of your trance and whisper, “I want to suck you off.”

Desire ricochets through his abdomen at your dirty words. He can’t believe his ears. 

“Where?” 

“K-Kitchen.”

He shoots you a look at your response, but doesn’t probe further when he sees a sly smile on your face, eyes clouded with a salacious lust. 

He’s even more turned on by this, smashing his lips on yours again, kissing you so fiercely and passionately. Carrying you over to the kitchen with your legs tightened around his waist, he delights in the friction and warmth of your body against his as your lips are still busily entangled in a hot battle. 

You push him atop the counter while your hands worm their way to the waistband of his sweat, tugging it down his sinewy thighs and you try not to drool at his rippling thigh muscles. 

“You’re so fucking dirty,” he quirks up an eyebrow, his voice noticeably deeper and gruffer, “The guys are going to be so pissed.” 

With a sharp intake of air, he tips his head back with his eyes shut. When he reopens them, he sees you kneeled before him on the kitchen floor, eyes dilated with a virtuous gaiety. You palm his length over his underwear without warning, causing him to groan out loud, bucking forward when you inch closer to give his clothed budge a few kitten licks. 

The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you tug down the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his erection which springs out from its confines, slapping hard against his abdomen. 

Jungkook’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it. He is also hard. Very painfully hard and throbbing red, because you are so angelic and sinful all at the same time, and it’s making him really fucking desperate. 

“Fucking hell. B-Babe, don’t tease, please,” his entire body shivers when your hot breath passes through to the sensitive skin of his cock. He’s fucking aching with need. 

Jungkook’s jaw drops, continuing his string of curses, but the words are instantly replaced with a breathy moan as you press his tongue to his navel, licking down his happy trail teasingly. Locking eyes with him, your fingers gingerly trace the soft lines of his abdomen, lingering over the sensitive flesh above his member and nipping at it, teasing him in ways you could have only imagined before. 

Leaning in, you take his dick in your hands – it’s thick, hot and throbbing with need. Eyes still locked with his, you plant a soft kiss at the head in an almost kitten-like fashion and your tongue tingles at the taste of his pre-cum that already accumulated smelting on the saturated expanse. 

You’ve wanted to do this for the longest time. You don’t know how many times you’ve thought of running your tongue along the underside his length from the base to head, taking each ridge and curve into account, your head bopping up and down, pleasuring him to no end and revelling his deep, sinful moans. 

You look up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust. Jungkook has his head tipped back again in pleasure, his irises are gone, eyeballs rolled back in his head as he clenches down at his teeth to hold back his moan. 

The very sight sends an electrifying heat down to your arousal. You want to suck him off so badly and make him feel like the man on the moon. So you start peppering light kisses onto the head, before capturing his length into the warm moistness of your mouth, prompting a raspy fuck from him, and hollow your cheeks enough to press against the sides.

Parting away from his tip, your tongue licks the underside of his cock before finding its way to his balls, sucking hard on them and rolling them around in your mouth one by one. Jungkook bucks his lips forward at this as dirty curses erupt from his throat. 

“Fuck babe, that feels fucking good,” he runs his fingers through your dishevelled locks, trying his best to stifle his moans. 

Upon his reaction, you smile to yourself, continuing to alternate your tongue between his balls and his hard shaft. When you take his cock into your mouth again, you thrum blithely at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until you bottom out, nose brushing against the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel. 

“Fuck, you’re so good. I’m so fucking lucky,” he says, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Saliva pools in your mouth as you start swirling your tongue around the head instead, humming in response at how he tastes and feels on your tongue. The vibrations make him shiver, one hand at the back of your head and the other on the kitchen counter. You pop off audibly after a while, hand still working at the base of Jungkook’s cock, fondling his balls.

“Want to fuck your mouth so bad,” he growls and your entire body quivers. 

Grabbing his cock, Jungkook repeatedly taps his meat against your cheek, waiting for your permission before he steers it into your mouth again. With a low, guttural groan, he wraps your hair tight in his fist and starts thrusting his dick into your mouth harder than ever, filling you to the brim. 

Your jaw slackens while taking in all of him, the tip of his cock hitting the deep back of your throat. You take in as much of him as you can, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he continues to hit the back of your throat. It’s uncomfortable, but the weight of him on your tongue makes your bundle of nerves burn, your underwear wetter than ever. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking good at sucking me off.”

It’s when you hum in pleasure with Jungkook’s cock still halfway down your throat that he lets out something of a wail. His mind is in turmoil and he can’t think straight for the better of him. He can only think about how fucking hot you look on your knees, in between his thighs, giving him the best blow of his life. Eyes hazy and obsidian, he believes that this is the most erotic sight he has ever seen and he’s fucking turned on. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. I’m going to come soon, but I’m not coming unless it’s in your tight sweet pussy.”

“Shit,” you mutter at his filthy talk, pulling back up from his cock to pant for air, but the strings of dibble trailing from his cock to your swollen lips arouse you even more. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room before anyone wakes up and gets the shock of their lives.”

He pulls you to your feet, palms smoothing your ass cheeks and smacking each side hard, before he leans in to smash his lips on yours. Fuck, he can taste himself on your lips and in your mouth and this only increases his desire to fuck you senseless. Impatiently, he sweeps you off your feet effortlessly, carrying you bridal style to his room. You try not to stifle at how frantic he is, his red aching cock still hanging out, while his sweats are still pooled around his ankles.  

Kicking his bedroom door open, he lies you gingerly on the bed before walking over to lock his door. When he returns with a hazy smile, he lowers his body on top of yours and your hands naturally clutch around his neck. Your heart thumps when you can feel the frenzy of his pulse underneath your fingers. 

His fingers secure around your chin, tilting your face up to meet his lips in a kiss, filling you with liquid heat. This one is slow but heated and still leaves you completely breathless. Before you can lick his mouth, Jungkook pulls away from your mouth to slide your shirt up.

You find his fingers carding through your hair as if to soothe your nerves, before they trail down to your neck and over the dark red bruises on your neck from earlier on to rest on your shirt, tapping a rhythm against your chest. You give him a nod and his fingers begin unbuttoning your shirt, delicately ghosting his touch over your breasts and chest so painfully slow that you cry for him to hurry the fuck up. 

A satisfied smirk tugs at his lips at each sound of your unadulterated desire and when your shirt is fully unbuttoned, he pulls you up in one smooth movement, tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. 

Sliding a thigh between your legs, Jungkook allows you to rut against him while his hands begin their ministrations, wandering all over your body, inspecting every inch of it, grabbing and squeezing every curve of yours. He bends forward to trail open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso and the knot of lust tightens within your abdomen. 

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your skin and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids that are eyeing your entire body, each breath laboured and concentrated with lust. 

His hands rest on your hips as they squeeze and caress your skin each time you whimper his name like a mantra, while he leans forward to your neck again, the ghost of his breath leaving a trail of fire down your throat until they reach your tits. 

Tugging your bra down to expose the swell of your breasts, he leans back to watch your face as his thumb darts right over your hard nipple, working a slow, lithe circle around your sensitive nipple before he tweaks the bud in between the pads of his fingers. You feel him lick at your nipple tentatively before he engulfs it in his mouth, sucking it hard while his other hand fondles with your other mound. 

It’s a tidal wave, causing wetness to pool between your thighs and you press them together, trying to create some friction or subside the uncomfortable stickiness invading your underwear. 

Lowering himself down between your thighs, you wait with bated breath before he starts licking and bestowing kisses on your navel and then down to your inner thighs, leaving you gasping at the sensation of his hot breath dancing across your sensitive skin.  

You emit a soft whimper which then melts into a desperate moan when he buries his nose against the cotton of your panties, his mouth teasing your bud through the soaked fabric. Very timidly, you raise your hips, seeking friction, and Jungkook receives you with the same hunger. 

“Going to eat you out so well you’re going to forget your fucking name and only remember mine.” 

His eyes, hazy with lust, lock with yours and he smirks viciously. The concupiscent blackness you found within them swallows you whole.

Your nerves jitter anxiously, raising tiny bumps of excitement across your skin as his fingers graze over your clit generously. Your body arches involuntarily when he licks a brazen stripe up your folds with his flattened tongue, taking in all of your juices. The sudden invasion of his tongue has you purring in delight. 

He edges your clit eagerly, flicking it with his tongue, teasing in circles before he sucks on it roughly and then lapping at it hungrily like a starved man. Gasping loudly, you bring one hand to cover your mouth, your breath stuttering as your other hand goes down to tug hard at his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. 

You mewl out loud when he slips his tongue inside your tight walls, fucking you with the flat of his tongue. Just when you think it couldn’t feel any better, he eases one finger into you slowly, smoothly sliding over your soaking wet folds until it’s knuckle-deep inside you. When you throw your head back in pleasure, he adds another finger, pulling his mouth away to focus on scissoring you and hitting all the right spots. 

“You like teasing me, don’t you? How about now?”

Without warning, Jungkook begins curling his fingers inside you, spreading your lower lips wide to allow your juices to flow past his knuckles and drip onto his bedsheets. His fingers continue his assault on your pussy for moments and moments, pounding mercilessly into you, the heel of his palm taking its place on your clit. 

The squelching sounds of his finger delving in and out of you are melodic to his ears, reverberating through the room. He then brings his lips back onto your clit and the cadence of his tongue on your clit is tantalising, tongue either lapping lazily at your clit or sucking on it ardently. 

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like firecrackers. He can’t believe this is happening. “I could eat you all fucking day. You’re so hot, Y/N.”

With the combination of his tongue and fingers furiously fostering your orgasm, you know you’re not going to last for very long. 

“Jungkook, please. I’m going to cum soon. Please, please,” you whimper helplessly on his sheets. 

Upon seeing your rolled up eyes, parted mouth and arched back, accompanied by the loud moans and cries leaving your mouth, the music of your voice pleading for him, he pulls away from your clit, smiling proudly to himself. 

“You’re not coming now. You can only come on my dick.”

You moan disgruntledly at the loss of his fingers and tongue, feeling empty all of a sudden. Shooting him a glare of betrayal, you’re about to scream at him for being a tease, but your eyes widen when you see his flushed skin, plump lips, shiny forehead, your own glistening nectar leaking from his lips and dribbling down to his chin and neck. 

And suddenly, you’re tongue-tied, squirming again. The throb in your core is torturous, your entire body is caught in a crossfire as you lie pliantly under Jungkook as his arms cage around you, helplessly soaking his bedsheets. 

You want him to wreck you. 

He pushes your trembling thighs apart as he settles between them. You whimper when you finally feel the head of his cock prodding at your soaked lips. But he doesn’t enter immediately. Instead, he slaps his cock against your pussy, and the filthy action only turns you on even more, driving your nerves into a frenzy. 

It seems like eons when he finally sheathes himself inch by inch inside you, till his cock is up to the hilt, and god, it feels so fucking incredible. The electricity that shoots through your blood is like a drug. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you hiss, threading your fingers into his hair as he groans at the feeling of you surrounding him. He waits for your entire body melts into him before moving. You can only keen at the surge of fullness, clenching around his thick length. Biting your lip to keep yourself from waking up your housemates, you reach up for Jungkook to pull him into another kiss. 

With his lips still locked with yours, he fucks you so thoroughly, the agonising roll of his hips hits that sweet spot with deadly accuracy, your body writhing in pleasure.

The warmth of your pussy makes his eyes roll to the back of his head, especially when your walls mould around every ridge and vein of his cock. He loves watching how his cock disappears into you, your tight pussy swallowing it up to the hilt with no difficulty, taking him so fucking well. So he draws his hips back, and you can feel every inch of his heat going with the motion before he swiftly plunges his cock back into you. Unrelentingly hard. Over and over again. 

Your back arches at the sensation and wanton desire for more, moaning his name out loud like that’s the only thing you know. 

You can feel the need and lust in his thrusts, from the way his fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place, leaving bruises on your skin as he rams himself into you, without even bothering to muffle the sound of his toned thighs hitting the back of yours every time your hips meet. You fucking love this, fucking love how strong his thighs are, how full his cock is making you feel. 

Each dirty, fast slap of skin and the momentum of his cock buried deep inside of you only makes the two of you needier. Jungkook doesn’t tease this time, probably not able to hold back anymore, and the bucking of his hips builds up to a fast, animalistic frenzy, plunging his cock into your body. He hammers roughly against your g-spot enough to rock your body forward and back with every thrust, warming your body like sunlight.

He reaches to fondle with your breasts, tugging potently at your nipple before sucking hard on it. Looking up, you see him smiling brightly, flashing his bunny smile and it drives you insane how he can fucking you so good, but still look so innocent at the same time. 

“Love you so fucking much,” an enticing lilt caresses the edges of his already hoarse voice, the smile on his lips growing wider. It’s the same fond grin he gives you when he sees you in the kitchen, in the hallways in school and when you’re back home after a long day at school and goes straight to join him at the couch after you two were past the I-hate-you-fuck-off stage. 

“Love you, love you, fucking love you.” 

A saccharine smile dances in the corners of his lips as he kisses you roughly, the shaken quavers of your moans thaw in the heat of his kisses, as his hands grope your ass tightly, still fucking you so well. 

Each slickened thrust is accompanied with a deep roll of his hips so that he is right there inside of you, causing you to feel choked at how close you are. Hazy with ecstasy, you roll your head against the pillow, nails digging deeper onto his back. 

With eyes rolled back, your entire body trembles with pleasure as your cunt suctions around his cock, alongside the burning feeling of fire pooling low on your abdomen. You’re clamping down on him hard enough that he’s delirious, his steady pace becoming more frenzied. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungkook. I’m coming!” 

He leans forward to press a kiss on your eyelids, whispering sweet praises into your ear as he brings one hand to rub the small hard bub unrelentingly to relieve your tense bundle of nerves.

Determined for you to reach your high, Jungkook grabs at your knees, hiking your leg over his shoulder and you let out a cry at the new position. 

“You love this? You love it when I fuck you harder?”

You scream out a yes when he taunts you even more, feeling every single ridge of his dick against your walls as he fucks you at a better angle of access. It feels so, so fucking good. 

He speeds his hips up so much so that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, almost overpowering your moans. Almost. You don’t even fucking care if your housemates can hear your filthy moans. 

“Fuck,” you groan shamelessly when the coil inside you grows tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. “J-Jungkook, I’m fucking cl-close. Please, please!”

“That’s right,” the smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth upon hearing you beg and he continues to fuck you harder than before. Fucking you into oblivion. “Come for me, love.”

Beneath his touch, you feel light and heavy all at once, while a white heat pools in your belly. Your body locks up entirely and then dissolves into an erratic series of spasms. Your legs writhe uncontrollably alongside a torrent of ecstasy that splurges from your center, head spinning to static noises and hot moans as Jungkook holds onto your body firmly to help you through your climax. 

After your high, Jungkook resumes to move in and out you, while a combination of a hoarse moan and your name is strangled out of his throat from the depths of his lungs. 

“Shit, fuck, I’m coming,” his voice trail off and his thighs tense as he slams into you, holding your hips firmly in place. Your small fingers thread through Jungkook’s hair, holding him close and urging him on.

“Come inside me, please. I want you. I want your hot cum.”

He lets out a deep moan, his face burying into the crook of your neck and shoulder as he rides out his orgasm, moaning and whimpering into your ear as he releases deep into you, spurts of warm cum filling you so full and spritzing your walls white. He ruts into you until your pussy milks him for all he’s worth. 

He can feel his pearly cum oozing out of your clenching entrance, slipping down your trembling thighs. He doesn’t pull out just yet, dick still nestled inside of your tight walls, wanting you to feel full with his cum. When he finally pulls out, he collapses on top of you, planting kisses all over your face before nuzzling into the warmth of your neck. 

Still trembling with the power of your orgasms, the both of you stay like that for a few minutes, just catching your breaths and enjoying the swims of your heads in a comfortable silence. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle before sliding down between your legs again. 

“W-Wha—”

Prying your legs apart, his eyes land on your pussy that’s dripping with his cum and he lets out a guttural groan at the dirty view. He gives your clit a chaste kiss and your hips buck up into his face as he gathers his juices onto his tongue, tasting the otherworldly mix of your juices. 

“I’m cleaning you up, babe.”

Flushing red like summer cherries with a hazy smile dancing on your lips, you whimper. “H-Ho—”

He cuts you off by diving right back in to lick a stripe up your slit and you jolt, both legs trembling and breath hitching in your throat. Soon, he has his face buried deep in your cunt again, lapping at your cunt and even throws both of your thighs over his shoulders to keep you from slamming your legs shut. 

It’s so fucking filthy. And so unbelievably hot. 

When Jungkook pulls back with his spellbinding smile, licking the leftover juices on his lips, you feel as though you might come for the second time. He surges forward to meet your lips and your head spins from tasting the sweetness of your juices together. 

He places another tender kiss to your forehead before settling onto his back and you naturally roll yourself over, nuzzling snuggly into his warm embrace. 

It’s a cuddle fest in the middle of the bed arms thrown over each other, legs entangled despite the remaining sweat and love juices. Jungkook is grinning hazily at you, breathless, and he feels his heart do a fucking waltz. He sure can live with this. 

When morning arrives, the sun is shining through a different window than you’re used to and you’re not your bed. The air is orange and the sunlight that bounces off the bedroom walls is nothing but welcoming. Rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you see fragments of dust in the air, whirling around like snowflakes. 

Beside you on the bed is Jungkook, who’s sleeping soundly, with dishevelled locks and swollen lips and the rise and fall of his chest comforts you more than you’d ever know.

At this, the memories of last night come rushing back to you almost immediately and your heart gnaws at how real this is. You look around Jungkook’s room. You see the few pictures on his wall and you spot one with you in it, sending your heart ricocheting even more furiously in your ribcage. There’s a fire within you that’s made of soft, satin embers whenever you think about him.

You can still remember the moment you first laid eyes on Jungkook – how you were clouded with anger about the boy who stole your seat during lecture. Who would have ever imagined that you’d be here in his bed, hopelessly in love with him. 

Jungkook starts stirring awake in his sleep when he feels a sliver of warm sunrays permeate the thin skin of his eyelids. When he fully opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of a beaming you (he thinks that you outshine the sun, but he decides to keep those thoughts to himself) staring straight at his face. 

Your smile doesn't falter or diminish when you’re caught, but only increases, as a soft good morning leaves your lips, while the tip of your tongue tastes of honey sweet and last night’s dalliance. He mumbles a good morning back, planting a kiss on your lips and the two of you look at each other. 

This is something. To be seen by another human being. To be vulnerable and transparent with no filters. To be transparent. This something is love. Love that’s easy. Like a liquid or gas. Love that finds its way in. Love in its simplest form. Love that the two of you understand.  

“Breakfast?” You card your fingers through his locks, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Only if you help me with the microwave.”

From the warmth of your caramel eyes, to the tender slope of your nose and to the apple of your cheeks, his eyes soften at the sight. 

“Actually… Maybe I should do it instead,” he adds, his chocolate brown eyes flicker from you to your fingers, lacing your fingers with his. 

“Huh?”

“Well, I can’t let the microwave explode on you, can I? I’d never bring any harm to you.”

“Dude… That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said,” you grin, humour colouring the corners of your mouth. 

“I poured my heart out to you and you think this is the sweetest? Geez. And you just dude-d me after I fucked you so good last night?”

“Shush, love is a willingness to sacrifice.”

A summer-night silence which lay for a thousand miles envelopes the two of you, both of you just enjoying the swim of your heads. 

Jungkook breaks the silence, voice softer than ever, “I do, you know?”

“Huh?” 

He reaches for your hand and brings it up to his lips, pressing tender kisses on your knuckles, with the little stars glistening in the velvet night sky of his eyes, “I do love you.”

But before you could respond, a beep comes from your phone and you instinctively reach out for it. 

[From: Namjoon]

[12:37] for fuck’s sake… the walls are thin in this humble abode fyi

[12:37] our poor ears…

[12:37] you guys went from figuratively fucking each other up to literally fucking each other

[12:37] as least you guys… are happy and not trying to kill each other

[12:37] happy that you all have found love uwu i can cry right now 

“Fucking loser,” you mutter as you hand Jungkook your phone to view the incoming messages. “Namjoon’s onto us. This is so embarrassing.”

“I think we were a little too loud last night.”

“And whose fault is that?” You tease with a waggle of your eyebrows. 

“I’d take credit where it’s due,” he laughs and you don’t miss the glint of mischief that hides underneath the flutter of his eyelashes as he engulfs you in another tight embrace. 

You think you like this, maybe a little too much: your head on his broad chest, his chin on your head as you lie snug in his arms, fingers interlaced, heartbeats as one. You adore how perfectly your body fits in Jungkook’s calming embrace, how he holds you like you are his world, not too tight and not too loose. Like you hold the stars in his eyes in place. 

“You make me weak, Jungkook,” you murmur softly like the way a snowflake would fall, lips hovering over hips. 

He hums in response and presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing your hand gingerly over the latter’s jaw, a smile flutters on the edges of your lips with utter adoration, with a love so blazingly radiant that it rivals the intensity of the sun. 

Pressing your lips onto Jungkook’s, you whisper, deciding to dismantle the high walls of your heart for good, “But I love you. So much that I don’t mind being weak with you.”

Note | Finally.... it’s up. A big phat uwu, everyone!! 45 pages on word doc. It has been a long, insane ride writing this – I think I started in August after posting Set On You. For my lovelies who’ve been waiting for this fic since forever, thank you for waiting and expressing your excitement for it! I love you guys so much :( I’m such a slow writer sksdjsdsdsd and I don’t know why my fics are always so long – it’s like I have so many things I want to write and I can’t leave out any scene?? Formatting it on this site takes up like an hour,,, but wbk. 

Thank you for reading this and if you enjoyed it, hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ Merry Christmas and have a great 2019! There will be more fics to come (probably shorter ones... pl0x)

Also, I added my thigh kink for you Ash uwu @jiminspjm 

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