#and time was running out since i go back to my parents the 19th
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allylikethecat · 11 months ago
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i think we can all just collectively agree that when ally posts it doesn’t matter what day of the week it is— it’s thesday. we can all just gaslight ourselves
AH This just made me smile so much! I mean... we shouldn't be gaslighting ourselves BUT I love the idea that every update day is a Tuesday in our hearts 😂
Speaking of Tuesdays... I am happy to report that I have finished this week's Tuesday update a whole 48 hours ahead of schedule and it is sitting in my AO3 drafts formatted and ready to go! 🎉 It's probably not for the fic people are hoping for but *I'm* excited about it! This also means we are full speed ahead on hopefully getting these holiday fics done! When did it become December 10th?! Who allowed this to happen?!
❀Ally
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bordysbae · 2 years ago
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reader taking the boys out to go country line dancing for rutger’s 19th birthday??
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“save a horse ride a
”
rutger mcgroarty x f!reader
wc: 0.9k
warning: implied sexual activities
your boyfriend rutger was born in nebraska, so, to a certain extent, he has some country roots to him. one thing you’ve learned over the last 5 1/2 months is that he has a love for country line dancing. “okay ethan, you’re gonna tell him that you and the boys planned him a birthday surprise, and have him be blindfolded when you start getting closer to the place, okay? and then when he takes it off we’re all gonna yell surprise alright? don’t screw this up eddy, it’s simple,” you say through the phone on the way to pick up rutgers birthday cake.
“thanks for thinking i’m that dimwitted that i cant even follow a basic instruction,” ethan chuckles.
“what time are you picking him up? i know the rest of the guys are coming to the place in about 45 minutes, so maybe get him in about an hour?” you say, arriving at the cake shop in the midst of ann arbor.
“yup got it! thanks for planning all of this y/n, he’s gonna love it,” ethan reassures, knowing that you’re a little nervous about the whole thing.
“thanks eddy, i really hope he likes it. it took me forever to find a place, but thankfully i did and was able to rent it out. oh, and when we were visiting his parents a few weeks ago i swiped his cowboy hat, so i have that with me too! i’m really excited! all those times rutger tried to teach me how to line dance are gonna come in handy tonight. anyways i gotta get the cake, but text me updates okay?” you exclaim.
“yup alright, see ya soon y/n!” ethan says before ending the call. you then walk inside the shop and pick up rutgers birthday cake. currently you’re dressed in navy bootcut jeans and a tight white shirt, so of course you get a few confused looks as to why you’re dressed so differently than most college students. you ignore the looks, and after getting the cake you immediately make your way to the place that you rented out for tonight.
after setting up everything you need, the boys begin to start filing in, wearing the closest things they have to line dancing/country attire. surprisingly, for most of them it actually wasn’t impossible for them to find correct attire. eventually it’s time for ethan to be arriving with rutger, and he told you he just put the blindfold on him. ethan parks his car, and carefully guides rutger into the now silent building. “yo dude where are we? why is it like dead silent in here?” rutger chuckles. ethan then takes the bandana off of rutgers eyes, and you and the boys immediately shout ‘surprise!’
a huge smile forms across his cheeks, seeing all of his friends and girlfriend get together just specifically for him. you walk over to him and place his cowboy hat on his head, stepping on your tip-toes to place a peck on his lips. “happy birthday babe, i love you!” you say.
“thank you love! where did you get my cowboy hat? did you take this from my parents house?” he chuckles as he wraps an arm around you, taking in the fact that all of his friends are in country-like attire. “maybeee,” you say dragging out the e, “cmon we’re all going country line dancing since i know you love it! show off your moves babe!” you exclaim as you run over to the building worker, giving him your phone to use as aux. as you run back over to the birthday boy, ‘bow chicka wow wow’ by meghan patrick starts playing and you immediately start dancing with rutger, the other boys following in pursuit.
a solid forty-five minutes go by of just pure laughter and messy dance moves, and you all decide to take a little break to eat cake.
you’re all sat at a table towards the far end of the room, and you and rutger are sat next to each other. he then places a gentle kiss on your temple, “thank you for planning this, y/n. it’s the best birthday gift. and, i never knew you actually paid attention when i taught you line dancing!” he chuckles, making you smile.
“well, what can i say? when i have you as my teacher i’ll take any excuse just to watch you. even if you’re teaching me how to like dance,” you joke, making rutger scrunch up his nose.
“you’re so cringe, i love it,” he says before taking his hat off of his head and placing it on top of yours. you readjust it slightly and laugh at how ridiculous you must look. you pull out your snapchat camera to look at yourself, and that’s when an idea comes to mind. “you know what they say rut
 save a horse ride a
” you begin to say, but suddenly you’re interrupted by mark. “ew y/n shut up! did you guys not realize that we’ve been sitting here silently waiting for you two to finish so we can keep dancing?” he blinks, making your cheeks go hot.
“y/n we’ll save that for later,” rutger winks at you jokingly, making all of the other guys groan and fake gag. “remind me why we decided to come again?” duker speaks up.“because you all love me,” rutger cheekily grins, making all the duker flip him off.
“whatever man, let’s just keep dancing. i think i’m getting pretty good at this,” duker says. “yeah, you keep telling yourself that man,” nolan says as he pats dylan’s shoulder.
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hassedah · 5 months ago
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Hi, I hope requests are open!
I was wondering how the boys would react to meeting mcs family (let's just assume they have family lol) I feel like that may be very, very chaotic and fun
Vladimir meets MC's family:
Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^
I'm back again. I have quite a few requests pending. I'll try to publish them quickly. Several of them are already in my drafts and are almost finished ^^.
I'm going to make a separate answer for each character with this request, given everything I've written for Vladimir and the fact that I like each character to have roughly the same length of response.
The next one to come out should be Beliath, I'm halfway through for him.
I hope you enjoy it! ^^
Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^
-----
Did he tell you he was stressed? Maybe a dozen times since you left the manor. Vladimir is sitting in the passenger seat next to you, you must have hired a car to take you to the town. It's a short hour's drive, but for once, Vladimir seems much less stressed about the car journey than the idea of meeting your parents.
"It's all right, darling. They're not going to eat you, you know, you are trying to lighten the mood by joking.
-I know!"
You give him a quick look. Vladimir is clinging to the door as if his life depended on it, and he can't help shaking his leg.
"Do you want me to stop the car? -No, I'm fine. -All right, if you change your mind, let me know. It'll make us a bit late, but my parents will wonder what I've done to you if you turn up so distressed. -We can't be late, it's impolite. -It's OK to be a bit late and it's better than having an anxiety attack in my living room, isn't it?"
He nodded. He wasn't as stressed when he left the manor, well, he was, but he didn't feel like he was running out of air. He spent more than an hour looking for the right clothes to wear, you saw her change outfits more than a dozen times before you decided to choose clothes yourself from her wardrobe. He's comfortable in it, which is the main thing, in your opinion, but he's worried about looking like a fool in front of your parents with his clothes from another century. Maybe they won't even let him in the house. After all, what kind of parents would let a monster like him anywhere near their child? If his parents had understood that the person who had transformed him was a vampire, he would never have been allowed near him.
Vladimir groans. He gets even more anxious by himself. Your parents won't know that he's a vampire, how could they? You haven't told them and it's not written on his forehead
 well, he'll always look strange
 What parents could leave their child with someone as strange as him?! His clothes are anachronistic, the way he talks is strange.
"Calm down Vladimir, you're worrying me. Are you sure you don't want me to stop the car? -No, I'll be fine. -I assure you my parents will like you. And it's only dinner, it's nothing formal."
A dinner party! Not formal! A first dinner at your partner's parents' house is very formal. He would have known perfectly well what to do in the 19th century, but in the 21st century! He has no idea, and he's already afraid of the mistakes he might make. How should he address them? What subjects are allowed to be discussed? Where should he sit at the table? He can't just sit anywhere, there are rules to be respected! He hasn't even brought a present for your parents - you said it wasn't necessary, but he feels it's really impolite. Perhaps there's still time to turn back? His chest is compressed with anxiety and he's struggling to breathe. You let go of the steering wheel with one hand to take his.
You, you would have preferred to wait a little longer before Vladimir met your parents. You had gone to see them alone on several occasions and you had spoken to them about Vladimir many times. They began to insist on meeting him. You often told your parents that Vladimir was allergic to sunlight and therefore you couldn't come for lunch. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. It was several weeks before they asked you to come for dinner one evening, and you tried to put the date back as far as possible, mainly so that Vladimir would have time to get used to the idea of meeting them. But they were so insistent that you couldn't keep them waiting for more than a week, on a moonless night.
"They're very nice, you'll see, but a bit protective," you try to reassure him. But I think that's normal for parents. They're also likely to make some not very funny jokes. If you don't feel well at any time, you can go and lock yourself in my room. Normally you'd be sitting next to me, so you can shake my hand if anything goes wrong. -Yes
 I'll do everything I can not to make you feel uncomfortable with my presence. -I'm not talking about that, Vladimir. You won't cause any problems, I know that. My parents are going to ask you questions about you, about what you like, about your family. -No! No, I don't want anyone talking about my family. -I'll try to deflect the conversation if that happens, don't worry."
You squeezed his hand, then stroked his palm, to reassure him, and it seemed to work, because he relaxed a little. You weren't far from your parents' house and after another ten minutes or so you saw their house looming up in the dark street. You stopped just in front of the house before turning to Vladimir.
"Can we go now? you ask softly. -Yes, I think we can. -All right, then. You'll see, they're nice people, I'm sure they'll like you. -I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," mumbled Vladimir as he got out of the car, "not many people like me
 -Don't be silly, everyone at the manor loves you and I've even fallen in love with you. That just goes to show you're someone to love, doesn't it?"
Vladimir gave a little pout without answering. You waited for him by the car and he came over to take your hand in his, and you smiled, leaning in slightly to kiss his cheek before approaching the house.
"It's a small house," Vladimir whispered in your ear as you approached the door. -Yes, I don't live in a castle. -I
 I just want to say that even my country house was bigger "
You laughed softly.
" Damn, I really don't know how to express myself. I
. I'm making it worse for myself, aren't I? -That's OK. You make me laugh. You leaned in to kiss her again. I know you're not just saying that to be mean or to brag, I know you."
You rang the doorbell. Your parents only took a few seconds to arrive, almost as if they'd been waiting in the hall to let you in. There was a lot of talking, about your route, your health, the weather, all mixed up with more or less noisy and awkward introductions. Vladimir remained stubbornly beside you, with a smile on his face that you couldn't have described other than uncomfortable. Remembering that your partner is not used to so much commotion, you slipped a hand behind his back to reassure him, and he moved a little closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.
"I'm delighted to meet you," said Vladimir, glancing at you briefly to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. I am honoured to be invited to dinner. -Don't be so formal, young man," exclaimed one of your parents. We're not going to eat you. -I -Vladimir finds it difficult to use informal language. There's not much he can do about it, I think he'll be more comfortable if he keeps talking like that. -Do you really think so? It's strange, but so be it. Come on in, let's get off the porch, it's a cold."
You were pushed inside the house by your parents, who were still talking. There was a strong smell of food in the house and you were already certain that your parents had prepared your favourite dish to celebrate your visit. You all headed for the dining room. Vladimir sat right next to you while your parents sat opposite. His face was icy, a look he always takes when he's stressed and anxious and which often has the misfortune of making him appear extremely arrogant and cold. You grabbed his hand under the table to stroke it and try to help him relax, but he only squeezed your hand before turning his face towards you, you were sure your parents wouldn't see, but you could read the anxiety in his dark eyes perfectly.
The start of the meal went off without a hitch, except for Vladimir who, being rather fussy about food, didn't touch many dishes. The conversation went pretty well too, despite your parents' insistence that your vampire fill up his plate a little more.
"Really, you don't eat much, don't you like it? asked one of your parents after Vladimir had turned down another piece of meat with a contrite smile.
At the remark your partner opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. You immediately stepped in to save him.
"Vladimir has a small appetite, he never eats much. -All the same," continued one of your parents, "it's not good for your health. -I
 it's very good
 but I don't eat much
 MC is right
 -It's obvious, you're just skin and bones. -That's not a very nice comment, firstly, and secondly, it's not polite to comment on what people eat either. You're making Vladimir feel uncomfortable.
There was a pause in the conversation as you stared alternately at your parents, beside you Vladimir sighed with relief before taking your hand under the table to thank you.
"Ah, sorry, young man. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just concern. -It's nothing, nothing at all," mumbled Vladimir.
The meal resumed on less delicate subjects and Vladimir began to relax again. He spoke very little, however, content to answer your parents' questions. When the subject of the manor came up, things got complicated again.
"So, you all live in your house together, is that right? -That's right. -And it's your house? MC told me it was a manor house. -Yes
 it is my mansion
 -How well do you know your flatmates? I mean, seven people, that's a lot of people it can't be quiet every day. -We have been living together for several years
" replied Vladimir. We get on quite well, even if there is sometimes friction
 -It can't be easy to keep everyone happy. I suppose it must be a lot quieter when everyone goes off to work."
You were going to tell a lie, but Vladimir's face betrayed you before you even had time to open your mouth.
"Don't they have jobs?! Your parents' exclamation made Vladimir stiffen in his chair, he moved back a little to press his back against the backrest and you intervened once again to save him. -Of course it is! Everyone has a job. Except Ivan, but he's younger and it's hard for him to find work in the current economic climate. However, he helps us a lot around the house, he does the cleaning, he tends the garden, he always goes shopping for us with Beliath and he's a very polite and very nice boy. Isn't he, my darling? -Y
 yes
 Ivan is a very helpful boy."
Your lie and your smile worked because your parents relaxed almost immediately before smiling at you again.
"Oh, we were scared for a moment, I thought they were all living in your house without paying. -MC didn't tell us about it, but what do you do for a living, Vladimir? -I
 I work
 Vladimir glances at you, immediately understanding his distress, and you smile at your parents. -Vladimir is a writer, it's difficult to find a job when you can't work during the day. And he writes very well, by the way."
It wasn't a total lie, of course, Vladimir had never published a single book, but he did write. However, you didn't often get the chance to read his stories because your partner didn't feel comfortable enough with his writing to show them to you.
"Oh, really
 It's an original job
 but it can't bring in much money
," worries one of your parents. -Money's not a problem, the house is completely self-sufficient," you reply. -The house may be self-sufficient, but you're not living on love and fresh water. -Our food comes from the garden. -The garden
 and what do you do in winter? -We store the produce," you always reply, while Vladimir seems to be trying to become one with the chair. -And what about the meat? -I think that if we needed meat Aaron could take care of it without any problem," you answer, giving Vladimir a knowing smile. -Oh
 yes, Aaron would have no problem with that. -And we've got enough money anyway to buy meat if we need it."
The discussion suddenly turned to the rising price of meat and the growing vegetarian lifestyle. Vladimir grabbed your hand under the table during the discussion and you began to gently stroke the palm of his hand to try and help him calm down. Slowly, you succeeded, at least until the discussion turned back to your vampire's work.
"I could never have done this job myself, I need to move around to feel good. Do you even do sport? -Er
 no. I
 I don't do sport. -Not even a little? It's very bad for your health. You should be careful. -I
 I don't like it
 but I used to go horse-riding. -Horse-riding. It's an expensive sport!"
You ignored your parent's comment as you turned to Vladimir with a smile.
"Did I? You never told me you'd been horse-riding," you reply, amused. -Everyone went riding," protests Vladimir. I even had my own mare. -A mare? But horses cost money to keep! How could your parents afford to buy you something like that?"
You ignored your parent again as he continued his tirade to ask Vladimir.
"And what was her name?"
Vladimir blushed and looked down.
"Oh come on, tell me. I promise I won't laugh. -You're lying, I was three when I named him. You're going to laugh. I know you too well
 -Oh come on, what name could a three-year-old boy give his horse
 Cherry? Raspberry? No, too modern
 Artemisia? Aphrodite? Penelope? -No
 I don't think you'll be able to find
 -You don't? -I'll tell you
 later
"
You smile before leaning over to kiss his cheek, the simple gesture enough to make him blush profusely, he stammers something you don't fully understand but he takes your hand under the table to kiss it gently. You are taken out of your bubble by your parents' discussion, which resumes. The clock is already striking twenty-two and you've just finished your meal. It's been a long dinner and you can feel that your partner is getting more and more tired and already just wants to crawl back into your bedroom to get some rest. However, your parents still have a lot to say and a lot of questions to ask.
"And do you dress like this every day? -Er
 yes. -It's original, you must stand out in the street. -I
 I don't get out of the house much. -Oh, yes, that's true. MC told us. Your flatmates must be surprised to see you dressed like that. -He's very handsome like that," you retorted immediately to end the discussion."
Your tone is dry enough for your parents to instinctively understand that the discussion is not appropriate.
"I'm not saying otherwise, but it's -Impolite to criticise people's dress? I suppose. -Yes, it is, sorry, bunny, I didn't mean to offend you."
The discussion changes again and Vladimir seems relieved, raising the eyes he had lowered during the discussion to look at you. You smile gently at him to reassure him and this is almost enough to make his unease and shame disappear completely. You talk again for several minutes as you eat the dessert, time passing slowly for Vladimir, who has to keep himself from asking when you're finally going to come home. He was happy, however, not to be included in the discussion, that is, until one of your parents asked him a new question.
"And your parents? What do they do? Do they live near here?"
Vladimir squeezed your hand so hard it almost hurt, you didn't need to turn your head to him to know he must have changed colour at the question. You shook his hand in turn before smiling at your parents and to divert the conversation.
"I saw on my way here that he was planning to build a new road through the forest. -Ah, don't tell me about it," it exclaimed immediately, sitting back in his chair. It's another stupid idea. They'll do anything these days, as if there weren't enough roads already
 "
Without listening any longer, you turned your head towards Vladimir and stroked his hand under the table. He seemed lost in thought.
"Do you want to go out for a moment?" you whispered, leaning close to his ear. -I want to stay with you," he replied almost immediately. -All right, then. Don't worry, dinner's nearly finished, just the coffee left and I promise we'll go home straight away."
He simply nodded in reply. The subject never came up again, as your parents had obviously forgotten about it and were complaining about the traffic problems on the road and the many traffic jams on the way into town in the mornings. During the discussion, Vladimir had moved his chair closer to yours and you were almost shoulder to shoulder. After a while, your parents finally served the coffee and Vladimir had some tea, because to his great relief your parents had some. He felt like he could fall asleep with his eyes open so he didn't hear when one of your parents asked him a question, and you had to squeeze his hand to make him pay attention to what was being said.
"Can you cook?" repeated your parent. -No
 I had servants at home. -So
 you've never cooked?" asked your stunned parent. -Servants?! -Well
"
Vladimir gives you another pleading look to get him out of this situation.
"It's Béliath and Raphaël who cook at home."
However, your parents don't listen to you for a second. Your partner's revelation seems to have shocked them so much that one of your parents immediately continues on the subject.
"Can you cook pasta? -Well
 you need water, I suppose and
 fire
 -Supposed to? -I
 I've never cooked pasta
 -You've never cooked pasta! But everyone knows how to cook pasta! -I
 it is complicated
 I
 -But who cooks in your flat? finally asked one of your parents, turning to you. -Raphaël and Béliath, as I've just told you. He cooks very well, so don't worry about the food. -It's crazy not to have cooked before. -But I've cooked before. It's just something complicated. -It's not complicated to cook pasta. -MC, please. -Vladimir doesn't need to cook. Aaron, Ethan and Ivan don't cook either and nobody has a problem with that. -But come on, sweetheart. Cooking pasta isn't complicated! -I wouldn't let Ethan cook pasta if my life depended on it. If it were up to me, Ethan wouldn't even set foot in the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee."
Luckily, your distraction worked and your parents started asking you questions about Ethan, who wouldn't be able to make himself a cup of coffee without setting fire to the kitchen. It certainly wasn't very nice for Ethan, but you didn't have many scruples: if it would allow Vladimir to be serene again, you would be able to claim anything. The meal went on for a while, the cups of tea and coffee had been empty on the table for a good hour when you finally managed to make your parents understand that you were going to leave.
They walked you to the door and kept chatting, so you stayed in the driveway for another long half-hour, repeating several times that it would be a long way to your house and that you couldn't stay any longer, before one of your parents came up with a new topic of discussion that made you stay five minutes longer. Finally, you managed to get out of their grip and finally got in the car to go home.
The way back was completely silent, Vladimir seemed as exhausted as the time Aaron had forced him to train in combat, his head resting limply against the headrest and he answered the few questions you asked him in very short sentences, finally he even stopped answering you and when you turned to look at him, you could see him asleep with his head leaning against the window. You only woke him up once outside the manor house and even though the night was still far from over Vladimir decided to go to bed almost immediately. You followed him into the bedroom to rest with him.
Vladimir breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed into your bed. When you joined him, he immediately snuggled up to you.
"I thought the evening would never end," murmured the vampire. It was hell. -Oh, my darling, you're not going to like this
 -What?" asked Vladimir in a worried voice. -Well
 it's polite to invite my parents to eat here too
 -Please, forget politeness," muttered the vampire. I don't ever want to leave here again, I don't ever want to be invited to a meal. It was horrible, I'd forgotten how much I hate dinner parties. -All right, all right, I forget," you smiled, starting to stroke her hair gently to soothe her. No more dinners, and if anyone offers to take you out to eat, I'll bite them. That's fine with you."
Your vampire nodded, his face completely buried in your neck. You laughed before shifting to kiss the top of his head.
"But I'll only do it on one condition. -What's that?" mumbled the vampire in a muffled voice. -What was the name of your mare? -Lady Princess Cherry Rose Camomile? -That's a pretty long name for a mare," you joked. -My parents said exactly the same thing
"
You laughed again before kissing her again.
"My poor darling, you've had an exhausting night. -I made a lot of effort for you. I didn't even complain about the car journey. It just goes to show that I love you. -I love you too. You saw how I saved you several times from my parents' questions. If that's not proof of love, I don't know what is. -Yes, that's true. You're my hero and mine alone."
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lilbittymonster · 7 months ago
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Kitali Moonblade
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B A S I C S
Name: Kitali Moonblade
Nicknames: Kit for a select few
Age: 30s? probably? She doesn't know exactly anymore
Nameday: 19th Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon
Race: Xaela
Gender: Tomboy
Orientation: Bisexual
Profession: Mercenary, artisan
P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S
Hair: Pale pink, thick and slightly wavy, down to the small of her back
Eyes: Black sclera, deep purple iris, gold rings from Hraesvelgr
Skin: Cool blue-purple.
Tattoos/scars: No tattoos, several scars. Most notable is the large scar running along the top of her left arm near the elbow from the fight with Estinien.
F A M I L Y
Parents: Baidur Gesi (deceased) and Tsenxer Dazkar (unknown)
Siblings: only child, later adopts the Leveilleur twins as her siblings
Grandparents: They exist, most definitely, I just haven't gotten around to fleshing out her family trees.
In-laws and Other: None, both of her partners' parents and families are dead.
Pets: Arienne, Aymeric's cat, and her black chocobo Belle
S K I L L S
Abilities: DRG/NIN hybrid, omnicrafter
Hobbies: Reading, ruin exploration, embroidery, gardening
T R A I T S
Most Positive Trait: Deeply loyal and protective to the people she holds dear
Most Negative Trait: Hypocrisy to the tune of "this isn't about me right now"
L I K E S
Colors: Purple, blues, black, silver
Smells: Fresh plants, petrichor, warm stone, woodsmoke, damp earth, lavender, roasting meat
Textures: Smooth linens and cottons, leather (not suede), anything quilted or embroidered
Drinks: Tea, ale, whiskey
O T H E R    D E T A I L S
Smokes: She used to, on and off, but more of a social thing than a need
Drinks: Only when she is absolutely safe will she let her guard down enough to get drunk. When at large social events she will only drink from her hipflask.
Drugs: Again, only when she is safe enough. She needs to take the edge off things a lot when she gets too restless.
Mount Issuance: Her black chocobo lives in Ishgard. I'm still waffling on how canon I want to make her GC mount since she really doesn't use him to get around much. Midgardsormr and later Fylgja are her go to mounts everywhere but the First. Her yol is still out on the Steppe but has likely gone feral by now.
Been Arrested: oh my god so many times. The Scions really should do better background checks on their new recruits.
Tagged by: @eriyu tysm 💜
Tagging: @maeljade @gatheredfates @iron-sparrow @hazelkjt @dragons-ire @emahriel @uldahstreetrat @anneapocalypse @whatsthisascianbullshit @tallbluelady @tripl3cast @sundered-souls @ardberts @alannah-corvaine @drowxiv @mrlarkstin (zero pressure)
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ewzzy · 2 years ago
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I was reminded that the 1993 Topps Marvel trading cards had Unsolved Mysteries of the Marvel Universe and I just had to check if we've solved them in the intervening 30 years.
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Starting off we’ve got the longest running mystery, but as with all of these the big question is “what were you hoping to find out?” We’ve seen Doom’s unscarred face in flashbacks and healed in the 1980s Secret Wars, but it was only in 2015’s reimagining of Secret Wars that we see what really lives under the mask. It’s nasty! A real “dead dove do not eat” moment.
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This one I’m surprised was a mystery since it’s so well known now. When Cable first showed up he was a warrior from the future, but it wasn’t until 1994’s The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix that it was revealed that he was the time traveling son of Scott Summers and Jean Grey. Well, kinda... you see he’s actually the son of Scott and Jean’s clone Madeline and
 go ask Jay and Miles if you want the X-Men X-Plained.
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This is the one that got me started on this mess. Darkhawk wasn’t a huge character so this sort of went unresolved but also who cared? Basically when Chris Powell turns into Darkhawk his whole body is replaced by a drone robot from these space hawk warriors. Turns out the whole thing that freaked him out was that underneath the helmet it revealed that he wasn’t even human in that form. And yet, as far as I know we’ve never got a clear look at what he saw.
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Hoo boy was this a mystery in 1993? So for background in 1990 we got Danny Ketch as the new Ghost Rider. He was more chains and leather than Johnny Blaze, the Evel Knievel-esque original. The mystery in question is “where did he get his powers and are they from the same demon Zarathos as the original?" After spending time too many wiki pages, I can now say that Danny was revealed to be Johnny Blaze’s secret brother and not powered by Zarathos. Looks like Danny at some point swapped his bike for a buster sword and started calling himself Death Rider. lol
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This one is easy! It’s Thanos! Thanos is the sixth member! It got revealed in The Warlock Chronicles during Infinity Crusade. This mystery didn’t make it out of 1993.
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Oh hey it’s my least favorite Spider-Man topic! That his parents were killed by the fake communist Red Skull is pointless at best. That they were seemingly brought back only to be revealed as Spider-Slayer robots is somehow worse. That whole mess got resolved in 1994 as a plot from The Chameleon. It’s right before the Clone Saga. Ugh!
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This one is a case of dragging it out so long that no answer would be good enough. In 2001’s “Origin” we finally found out that Logan’s real name is James Howlett and he was born in late-19th-century Canada. The Logan name comes from James’ maybereal father from an affair and definite first bone claw stabbing victim Thomas Logan. This is all fine but I 100% of the time confuse “James Howlett” with “Jamie Hewlett” the artist who draws The Gorillaz.
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A major thread in 90s X-Men was that Bishop came from a future where an X-Man had betrayed the team and ruined the future. He was pretty suspicious of Gambit in particular and there were hints based on this guy named The Witness that seemed to be Gambit from the future. All that got dropped when Charles Xavier became Onslaught and turned on everyone. Bishop even kind of got to save the day in that story. I guess it all worked out.
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It’s our final X-Men mystery and the answer lies in one of the worst received X-Men stories of ALL-TIME! So your first thought should be “he’s a mutant what do you mean origin?” Okay, so starting in 1981 there were hints that Mystique was Nightcrawler’s mom. That started because people say they look the same. That’s a pretty wild thing to say since she has blue skin and he has blue fur and also she’s a shapeshifter so the idea of her real form is iffy at best. Well, it turns out Claremont wanted Mystique to have shapeshifted into a fella and been the father not the mother. Biologically speaking. He didn’t get to write that story, so instead Chuck Austen wrote The Draco

I can’t believe this is going to a 2nd paragraph but here goes. Mystique in disguise as the wife of a German baron named Christian Wagner, but got pregnant by a mysterious Herr Azazel. The kid comes out blue and her charade is exposed. Flash forward to present day and Nightcrawler is investigating Isla des Demonas and he finally meets dear old dad. Azazel reveals himself to be a literal satan from the Brimstone Dimension. This very nearly broke Nightcrawler’s whole character. Instead of a kind man who is hated because of his appearance, he is a literal son of a demon. Don’t get me started on the woman who adopted Kurt. She’s green and has horns.
That's all the mysteries! If you think I got something wrong about X-Men then yes you're probably right. If there's a secret Darkhawk reveal I couldn't find them please please share it.
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importantdestinydefendor · 9 months ago
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Getting to know you ask meme
Tagged by @tired-reader-writer
Last song: Run For Roses by NMIXX
Such a banger! The harmonies, their voices in general (Haewon my beloved~), the instrumantel?? ugh! Lives rent free in my head! Also! Haewons voice is somewhat how I picture Azars voice (at least when singing). Her tone and voice colour is just so beautiful! This song will also go in the AU playlist lol
Here is a Voice Cam of Haewon were her vocals are a little bit highlighted from the rest. You can still here the others though.
Last movie/TV show: The Grand Budapest Hotel
Such a fun movie! Watched it with my parents on New Years Eve. Such a perfect mix of silly and serious. Sometimes you laugh until you can't breath, others you feel like curling up into a ball and just cry. It is a story in a story in a story in a story. So, to break it down is: we start with a girl reading a book by the bust of the author in a graveyard. We then listen to the author talking about an interview that is basically the book. We then switch to the younger self of the author (Jude Law) when he conducts the interview with the owner of the Grand Budapest Hotel. We then switch to the time when the owner was just a page/footboy (Tony Revelori) and telling the story of Gustave (Ralph Fiennes)- the concierge and later former owner of the Hotel. We then ping pong between the interview and the story told by the owner. It is told in five chapters. (Rant end!)
Sweet/spicy/savory: Leaning more to savory.
But also like sweet a lot! Spicy is my nemesis. I am so white i can't handel most spices lol. But I'm training my body to handel more!
Relationship status: Very, Very single
I am wishing/hoping for a relationship, though it is not my priority. In the mean time, I'm very hapy with my fictonal crushes lol
Last thing I googled: The Grand Budapest Hotel
Besides that it is 'google scholar' (for my term paper) and 'star wars rebels manag read online'. Have yet to watch the show but I do like the manga version of it.
Current obsession: There is alot!
Arslan Senki (obviusly), my AU, Horizon Forbidden West (RIP Lance Reddick), Otoyomegatrai (a new chapter just came out!), Haikyuu... and this is only like the tip of the iceberg for reading/video game stuff! But if I write down more we would be here for an eternity lol. I also have discovered book nooks and have started to build one since last summer (had to stop due to space for our christmas tree).
Last book: Wolkenschloss (A castle in the Sky) by Kerstin Gier
Have given up on it rather early on. I'm just no longer in the targeted audience and I notice that while reading which sadly sours the reading experience. I just cringe at some things that I might have liked when I was around 15 or so. But before that I finished reading the first book of the Temeraire series - His Majesty's Dragon and have the next two volumes waiting for me. I had started it back in high school and wanted to read it again. It is so much fun and it's baiscally - what if there were dragons around the time Napoleon waged his wars (so in the 19th century) and there were riders for them and we focus on one (1) british navy soldier who got (unwillingly) adopted by a dragon freshly hetched from it's egg. And maybe, just maybe, said dragon might be a very rare one! (Also another point for the Temeraire series is that the author is Naomi Novik - one of the co-founders of our beloved and one and only AO3!)
Looking forward to: being done with my term paper
I have a lot of problems with it as it is my first one and I have no idea what I'm doing (I have talked with my tutoress and asked others about it but I just have to figure shit out as I go). I just want to create art and continue my AUs! I want to post my first chapter! maaaaan we need more hours in the day for just relaxing and hobbies
Tags:
@whenskiesaregreyy @welome-bob and basically anyone who wants to join in.
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sharperthewriter · 2 years ago
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Chapter 12 of Roneo and Kimliet
Chapter 12
(Friday, Feb. 9, 2006, 3:45pm)
"Well, I'm glad that's overwith!" Kim exclaimed, stretching her arms as she, Ron, and Monique all exited Middleton High one last time this week. While Kim and Monique were in their signature baggy Club Banana dark-denim overalls with both straps hooked with yellow and pink croptops respectively, Ron was in his usual outfit.
"Another school week of toil in the books!" Ron exclaimed, "I cannot suffer through another quiz boring 19th-century book by some long-dead obscure author in English Lit anymore!"
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' you two after a lot of tests?" Monique asked.
Both Kim and Ron replied, "Bueno Nacho!"
"OTN! On the nose!" Monique exclaimed with her famed Monique-speak. She got out her bicycle helmet as did both Kim and Ron. They had taken bikes to school in lieu of the bus all week long, though Ron had his share of scrapes on his knees.
(4:19pm)
The trio ride their bikes to Bueno Nacho, for it also had a bike rack near the entrance. Once they managed to lock their bikes to the rack, they went inside.
Ron got his standard Naco Night order, Kim had the usual taco salad with Caesar on the side, and Monique had the same thing Ron had.
"So what is going to be the first thing on the list for this weekend?" Kim asked while getting out a sheet of paper.
"Well...the usual rental tree costume from the costume shop downtown." Ron said, "And this time, it will have a zipper in the front and not in the back."
"Okay...one rental tree costume." Kim said before she added.
"Oh yeah, I also need to add in the fact that JP Bearymore had just recently added a Zombie Mayhem II machine in the arcade! And it is bon-diggety badical!"
"And a box of tissues."
"What for?" Monique wondered.
"That I'll prove to the Glee Three that we will pull off the best Romeo and Juliet so hard that they are going to be crying at the end of the performance!" Kim insisted. "Hence the tissue boxes."
"We got that added to the list." Ron said, "What else do we need?"
"Maybe some aspirin in time to handle the headaches for Mom's parents' anniversary." Kim suggested, "Seventeen cousins is so hard to keep track of over a weekend, thank you very much!" She also kept in mind some of the weirdness of those cousins that would make even Larry look sane.
Then, the Kimmunicator beep began to sound.
Instinctively, Kim got the Kimmunicator out of her overall side pocket.
"Hey, Wade! What's the sitch?"
Wade explained the reason for the beep-in.
"Hey, Kim. You got a hit on the site from Professor Acari."
"Acari...the bug-expert guy!" Kim guessed.
"Mind if I patch you through to his message?" Wade requested.
"Please and thank you!" Kim replied with a smile. Wade typed rapidly on his computer to access the video to one of Acari's insectariums.
"Good evening, Miss Possible! I definitely would need your help at my insectarium on the outskirts of Los Angeles. There is something of great importance that I need to show you!"
"So we're gonna visit the insect guy again after what happened with the tick bomb thing Drakken had on your nose, KP?" Ron asked.
"Most definitely so, Ron." came Kim's reply.
Ron shuddered, "Insects! I so cannot stand insects!"
"Even a harmless ol' ladybug?" Monique asked.
"My issues with them stretch back further than Wannaweep, Monique!" Ron said. "Even within the Stoppable abode, my hate of those blood-sucking insects runs very deep!"
Kim sighed before saying to Wade, "Can you give us a ride?"
"Working on it right now!" Wade insisted.
(1 hour later)
A Global Justice craft picked up Team Possible as they headed en route for Los Angeles. Both im and Ron, of course, were now in their mission outfits.
Agent Flynn Cognito was flying the craft. Kim was in the co-pilot.
"Thanks for the lift, Agent Cognito!" Kim said in a nice voice.
"It's the least I can do since you save me on that mission in Switzerland last month!" Agent Cognito replied.
"It's no big! A little help from my hot curling iron that can melt snow, duct tape, and a rope would do the job." Kim said before turning on the Kimmunicator.
Ron, in the meantime, was stuck between two buff male Global Justice agents.
"Uhh...little help here?" he exclaimed.
There was also one other mission that was also nagging at Kim's mind.
"Wade, has there been any update from the thefts at the Louvre?"
"I was able to pull off something from the henchmen's shirts." Wade said as he pulled up the security photo on the Kimmunicator.
Kim looked at it and said, "Looks like some sort of code. Can you try and analyze it?"
"I can do, but it may take me between 24 to 36 hours." Wade replied, "I'll give you an update once the analysis is complete! And by the way, you should be over LA right about...now!"
"You analytically rock, Wade!" Kim grinned as she put away the Kimmunicator and activated her jetpack and infrared goggles.
"Let's jet, Ron!" she exclaimed.
"Right behind ya, KP!" Ron replied as he got unstuck from being in-between the Global Justice agents. He too activated his jetpack.
"Ready for this, Rufus?" he then asked the naked mole rat.
Rufus, from Ron's pants pocket, put on his goggles. "Ready!" he squeaked excitedly.
Team Possible jumped out of the plane. The 10,000 feet ride went smoothly for Kim as she landed on the ground. For Ron, however, he spun in a variety of circles and triangles in the air. Rufus squeaked in horror and closed his eyes. Fortunately, for the both of them, they landed on the ground.
"Well, that wasn't one of my worst landings." Ron replied.
"I'd give you a medal for it, Ron!" Kim chuckled a little before Professor Acari came to her, along with a couple of his assistants.
"I'm glad you can make it, Miss Possible!" Acari replied with glee.
"It's no big, Professor!" Kim laughed, "I'm glad we recovered the robotic tick back to you after Drakken nearly blew off my nose in freshman year."
Ron shuddered, "KP, you do know I still have tick issues..."
"What's with your sidekick?" Acari asked, pointing to Ron.
"Bad summer camp experience, don't ask to him." Kim suggested.
"Anywho, I should take you and my assistants to my insectarium." Acari replied, "There, you can see why I contacted your site!"
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harrison-abbott · 6 months ago
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on something else
The minute I regained consciousness there were spurs of bad mood in me. I thought about how I was going to be kicked out of my room in about six months. And how I had little power to stop it. And I got up and went through to the bathroom to urinate. My reflection always seemed ugliest in the morning. Back in my bedroom I tried to rest for a while but, when I wake up I usually can’t switch my mind off again.
I played a couple of videogames on the retro TV. I was really good at the football game, with a controller, and really shit at the actual sport in real life. And I remember those rain sodden fields when I was wee, running about a field somewhere in Edinburgh, when my Dad courageously came to see our team get beat every weekend.
After the games I thought I should do something useful. So I read a novel from the 19th century. I liked the language, and I realised that it was good. It’s just that it was hard to concentrate on.
I was all fucked up with memories, that connected with me being annexed from the very room wherein I was reading. The memory of the pair of people who were doing the annexation. And how they had changed very little in the decades that I’d known them. It was crazy how people could apologise for historical crimes and that instead of feeling sore about them, instead of acting on the guilt, they just did the same things, said the same words. They couldn’t see what they were actually like.
Then again, there was one character in this classic novel who was exactly like that too. The theme gave you something to write about.
The last 30 hours or so, it had rained a month’s worth of rain. And the street, with the emerging daylight, was steaming and sluicing, the trees across the wall drenched and teeming, and even the birds weren’t as berserk as they usually were.
When I was a kid it didn’t rain as much and the seasons weren’t as interchangeable with wacky weather, and the odd thing was that I was only 31 years old. And, yet, I still couldn’t figure out whether that was young, or not, anymore.
I turned my laptop on and looked through the news and the UK government had decided to call a surprise General Election. Out of fear and panic, I suppose 
 and the papers were all abloom with headlines, carted along with the names of these middle aged men who were supposed to be in charge of 67 million people. It was astonishing how fickle topics like politics were. And you remembered what had happened for the last few decades. There was the Iraq War when you were a kid. Which was basically mass genocide that nobody was ever tried and sentenced for. And then there was Brexit, which was about the biggest geopolitical fuck up of all time. And you, personally, didn’t have anything to do with those things.
My dog was barking downstairs.
She was going senile because she was a border collie who had lost the pace of her legs and she often got confused. So I went down into the kitchen to calm her down. I let her out into the back garden so she could pee and shit. Despite being old and dotty, she was still a very beautiful animal. I often wondered whether it would be easier to be a dog than a human, mentally. Maybe.
I thought I’d make a sandwich. Humous, tomatoes, cucumber, onion.
As I was chopping I noticed a scar on my left hand, as I was holding an onion bulb 
 and I didn’t remember how I got that particular scar.
There were two other scars on the palm of the same hand, which I’d had since I was a boy, and I couldn’t remember how they ever got there: and I asked my parents about them before, but they still can’t locate what caused those two white streaks of scars either. 
 And, on my right hand there remain two scars that I got from working in restaurant jobs, with wet skin, knives, and broken glass. 
 And there were lots of scars all over my body that I don’t really want to explain how they got there.
I took the sandwich upstairs. Would eat it before I went to sleep.
My friend had recommended a movie to me. It was by a director I liked. But, when I watched it, it didn’t seem like a movie that was made by the same director. It was kinda a sex-comedy [is that a genre?] and it seemed a bit tacky and not as smart as his other flicks. It wasn’t bad, by any means, I just wasn’t in the mood for it.
I wrote a few poems and stories and posted them on Tumblr. For the last few years I thought I may as well show people what I write, even though I’ve never met them and they live in different parts of the planet, and even though I still have no clue if I have any talent as a writer. I suppose that you just have to try, as an artist: because if you don’t, then self doubt hollows you out and you end up loathing consciousness, you end up wishing that you didn’t have to think so intensely, all the time. With writing, it can be a away to escape, and make other tiny worlds. Even if not everybody digs your stuff. Or, very few people do.
The morning was changing into afternoon. And, it had actually stopped raining.
On the news forecast there was one of those jagged orange lightning bolts over a puffy grey cloud, signalled for the next night. Good, I thought. I always thought thunderstorms were cool.
The weather would only worsen anyway.
My mind started to get all clogged up with bad memories again. So I did some further writing, to try and concentrate on something else.
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asirensrage · 1 year ago
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I’ll start with Kioka because she is fucking hilarious and I love her so so much lmaoooo
Okay so, of course her story doesn’t start out the greatest— her parents were once very wealthy, until her father gambled them so deep into debt everything was taken from them. Eventually he was killed, and well, her mother self deleted. So it was up to Kioka’s oldest sister to provide for her and their brother. How did she do that? By doing what a lot of girls did during that time out of desperation: prostitution. Eventually though, she succumbed to syphilis. And then the duty of caring for Kioka fell upon her brother, who later got himself killed by screwing with a drunk swordsman.
Kioka was alone in the world at the age of 11. She had to survive by being cunning and learn how to fight for herself. Honestly she was a little badass. The world had turned it back against her and so she in turn decided to flip it the bird and pave her own way. Fuck them all!
It was around the time she was 16 when she had her first run in with a demon who was collecting young girls to store away for food. Kioka of course wasn’t gonna go down easy! Fun fact: she bites. And who saved her? Sanemi ‘no brows’ Shinazugawa. He was 18 at the time and a fresh Hashira, who in my story was hunting down this demon. After Kioka and the other girls were rescued, she was relentless in trying to get Sanemi to train her. He obviously said no.
They parted ways for a while, at least until she found some poor unfortunate Demon Slayer and twisted his arm until he agreed to teach her how to kill demons. That was how she discovered Final Selection.
And once again, Kioka kicked ass. Having stolen that Slayer’s sword after learning what she could from him, she set off to create a name for herself. After she made it back down that mountain she was determined to find that No Brow Fuck Face and make him take her as his student. At this time she was 17.
It was on a mission that she ran into Sanemi again and of course pestered him to make her his student, his Tsuguko. Of course she was ambitious enough to want to take over his spot should he ever keep over and die. But what she didn’t count on was the sibling bond that would be forged between them later. Sanemi eventually gave in when the girl put him in a headlock with her legs and twisted his ears to the point they nearly tore off. Crazy bitch!
Kioka, despite her physical appearance which would likely make someone believe she was a water breather (blue hair, blue eyes) took to Wind Breathing like a natural, eventually earning the nickname “The Tempest”. Tengen absolutely adores her and her flashy, feral attitude. Rengoku admires her resilience, and fighting spirit too! All the other Hashira seem to like her too, well, one however is
 questionable.
Kioka’s had a stupid fat crush on Giyuu since she met the guy and it both annoys and disgusts Sanemi to no end. He often teases her about it too. Giyuu, however, also falls victim to Kioka’s wild antics. She drags him out with her to drink, although he doesn’t usually partake in it— until the day she’s celebrating her 19th birthday. What happens? Glad you asked! After refusing sake for the umpteenth time, tipsy Kioka took it upon herself to pour the liquid into her own mouth and kiss him, making him swallow it.
Lots of feelings are discovered. But the funny shit is she bites Sanemi when he pisses her off and loves to play games with Tengen. She can out shinobi the shinobi. Her and Giyuu’s dynamic is so hilarious because she’s utterly wild and he’s so not.
ngl, Kioka sounds badass. I love her already. It's that chaotic nature and willingness to achieve her goals no matter the cost. Love the fact she steals the sword and finds her way into Final Selection on her own. I need to know if she ever meets Inosuke now though. The two of them would be the ultimate chaotic duo.
I also like the dynamic between her and Giyuu! I can picture it perfectly. A great opposites attract pairing.
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soyl4ndo · 2 years ago
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Meeting The Parents | Lando Norris
Part of the Sweet Dreams series
previous chapter: Date Night word count: 1.5k words warnings: fluff, suggestive smut english is not my first language
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LOS ANGELES, AMERICA - FEBRUARY 15TH 2021
It was car launch day for McLaren and you were supposed to be there, but instead, you are stuck on your couch with the flu and a stomach ache. It has been almost two months since Lando and you had your very first date, and well, the start of your relationship. It has also been two months since you last visited each other. You had FaceTimed with Christmas and New Year’s and basically every day in between but that was all. Lando went to Dubai for a training camp but shortly after his arrival, he found out he had covid. You had gotten back to your work and would have flown to Woking three days ago, but with the symptoms you had, it was better if you stayed at home. You tried your best to stay awake while watching the car launch, but every single muscle in your body pulled you down to a deep sleep. When you woke up to check the time on your phone you saw a message that caught your attention. “Y/N, I have a serious question..” Lando had mentioned, basically right after the car launch was finished. “..I fully understand if you say no, but if you feel comfortable about it,” There was a pause in his texts, you didn’t know if he had waited for you to reply or forgot to send the rest, but after you ask him what he wanted to say he replies with, “Would you like to meet my parents?” It never popped into your mind, but for him to initiate this next step, made your heart melt. “Of course! but when?” “I was thinking, since you want to come to Bahrain, that it would be fun to fly together from the UK. So that means you will have to come here first and then you could meet them.” You can’t help but smile, it was so adorable to realize he had planned this all out. “You are really cute. I can’t wait.” “Really? I will let them know.” All though he was on the other side of the world you could sense the beam of a smile he had on his face and the little twinkle in his eyes.
BRISTOL, ENGLAND - MARCH 19TH 2021
You are very nervous as you set foot for the first time in Bristol. You knew Lando would come to pick you up and then the two of you would drive to his parents' house. It takes a long time for your luggage to arrive on the carousel. For obvious reasons, Lando waited in his car outside for you. Once he sees you, he gets out of the car and helps you with your luggage. You step into the car and can finally kiss him. "How was your flight?" Lando asks as he starts the engine. "I tried to prevent the jet lag by sleeping a lot." You could hear him chuckle. It wasn't a long drive from the airport to his parents' place. You hide behind Lando as he turns around the keys. You could feel a knot form in your stomach. Before Lando opens the door, he turns around to you to take your hand and say "They will love you, no need to be scared." Something they always say, just like in the movies, and as you would have thought it didn't help to calm the nerves down.
All of them came to greet you in the hallway, even when they were busy with their own stuff. As soon as they heard Lando turn the key around, they came almost running to the front door. After you introduce yourself to his parents and siblings, Lando says, "Alright, meet and greet over." He walks with you to the kitchen. It took you some time to acclimatize but soon it felt all so natural, it was as if you fitted right in. Here you could be you, not someone famous. Of course, they were interested in what you did and so on, but not in a nosy way. Everything was going great. They are in love with you and enjoy your company. You are watching Lando work on something with his dad when his mother comes over to you. “He really loves you..” She states, you look over at her with a smile on your face. “..I have never seen him look at anyone, the way he looks at you.” You are startled by her words. "Y/N" Lando calls for you to look at what he has been building with his dad.
"I know we have said to keep our relationship private as long as possible, but how are we going to do it now that you will be at the race weekends?" Lando questions you. He had suggested going for a walk just so you could take a breather. It has been three months now, but the decisions still stood. It wasn't because you didn't want people to know. Lando was worried about any negative comments from fans, but most of all he wanted to protect you from the cruelty of social media. Which you certainly understood, as were quite familiar with it. You wanted the same thing for him, but with the amount of time you two would be spending together, it could lead to some potential rumors. "I could throw it on the fact that I'm at the track for work." You sound doubtful because you knew somewhere that the fans wouldn't buy that. "I just want you to know, that whether we stay private or not, I love you." If he could he would show you off to the whole world. He wants to be publicly proud, proud to be with you, but due to circumstances that were impossible. Your eyes widen when you hear what Lando says. At first, he doesn't notice what he just said, but when he realizes he starts to rattle. "I- I did-" You cut him off and say, "I love you."
WOKING, ENGLAND - MARCH 20TH 2021
Last night was the first time you ever slept in the same bed with your boyfriend. Lando was already in bed when you got into the bed on the empty side. Lando stared at you and eventually asked, "Are you not laying over here?" He held his arms out for you, an instant smile appears on your face. You scoot over to him and cuddle up into his arms. As you lay there for a couple of seconds, you start to feel uncomfortable and even a little cold. So you turn over and move around to make yourself more comfortable when you hear a groan release from Lando's lips. "You're about to kill me, love." That is when you released you moved back and forth along the bulge in his pants.
"I could get used to this," You hear Lando say in his deep morning voice once you wake up, the vibrations of his voice send shivers down your spine. "What?" You say soft-spoken, as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. "You here, next to me, as I wake up," He says and places a kiss on your forehead.
Past few days the two of you were quite busy with work. Due to that, you didn't have time to do anything for your three-month anniversary. Not that you necessarily wanted to do anything, but you also hadn't seen each other for those three months. "So what do you want to do for our anniversary?" Lando asks you when you are stood in front of him. "I don't know." You place your hands on the table behind you and slightly lean back. "Is there anything you want?" Lando continues. "Lando, I'm not the kind of girlfriend who needs to be showered with presents or be taken to the fanciest restaurants. I'm happy to spend time with you. I don't need a lot. You could pick a flower from the floor and I would be overjoyed. We could buy pizza and eat it in our pajamas on the couch and watch a bad movie. As long as I'm with you, I don't need anything else." You poured your heart out to Lando. "So pizza for dinner tonight?" Lando didn't know how to react, so he had to say something stupidly cute. You chuckle and say, "Pizza for tonight is perfect. Just to clear things up, I don't mind going out from time to time.." You sit down on his lap, "..as long as I'm with you." Your lips meet his and you can feel Lando's hand run between your thigs. You break away from the kiss and jump up from his lap, "I have to..uhm..pack some things..uhm before..you know." You stumble over your words as you slowly walk out of the kitchen to the stairs. You can hear Lando chuckle before you sprint upstairs.
Next Chapter
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asstrolo · 3 years ago
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𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 (đŒđ‘›đ‘Ąđ‘ąđ‘–đ‘Ąđ‘–đ‘Łđ‘’ đ‘ƒđŽđ¶ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔)
Venus has finally entered retrograde. From now (December 19th) until January 29th, the planet of love will give the emotion of going backwards. You should be expecting a lot of people from the past coming back but, since Venus is on Capricorn this time, you're being asked to be responsible and mature about yours and other people's feelings, don't do anything impulsive, specially with your appearance and in your love life, you might regret it once Venus goes direct. Anyways, the effects from this retrograde will last until March 1st.
These readings are mainly focused on you and your experience during the entirety of this transit, I put two songs and one book recommendation at the end of every single reading, I haven't read many books so I'm not really qualified to tell you what to read or not.
I made this completely trusting my intuition, without tarot cards so, if a reading doesn't resonate with you, that's okay! These were super fun to make, i felt every single reading was so unique on its own it was so entertaining!
DISCLAIMER: I used the words "you" and "very" more times than ever before. Trigger warning; annoying bookworm.
LASTLY: Please pick a pile carefully, don't do it if you're too stressed or tired or distracted, it will affect your decision and the reading might not resonate. Take your time choosing a pile!
𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟏 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐
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𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟑 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟒 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟓
𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒; â€œđŒ đ‘€đ‘œđ‘Ÿđ‘˜ 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑱𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑱𝑟𝑒.”
«If I don't keep trying, who would do it for me? If i don't keep pushing forward, how would I move? If it's all in my hands, who will hold them when they can't hold anything anymore?»
You exude confidence, maybe you have a strong presence encompassed by a loud voice, or a voice as quick as your mind. Your head goes 100 per minute and when something passes your mind, the next second is in your mouth. Brutal honesty is something you value in everybody in your life, as you were growing up you were the responsible one, a parent to your siblings, you never had a proper childhood, it was taken from you at a very young age. You might've had to do though decision because your parents weren't qualified to deal with adult things. You used to go out a lot as a teenager, and, as you've gotten older, you have developed an aversion to those kind of parties. You like wearing tight clothing, such as dresses and knee socks or lingerie. I would go as far as to say you like showing skin, showing parts of your body you are proud of and you'd like people to appreciate too. You've dyed your hair blonde, strawberry blonde or a light red. You have a short temper and you're a very anxious person, your relatives respect you or talk bad about you behind your back, you probably already knew this, and you probably don't care anymore. You turn to addictions like smoking or binge-eating, work? You're not a drinker unless it's a very specific drink. You're meeting someone you knew for a long time in a new way, a romantic way. You have Leo in your Sun/Moon/Rising, Aries rising, Capricorn Venus, Taurus rising, Taurus somewhere, Mercury Rx, Leo or Aquarius North Node/4H.
Venus Rx has a lot of ups and downs for you, don't be scared, as the challenges you are about to experience will be short-lived, they will help you in the long run to be a more resilient person and not to be so pessimistic. There's a lot on your shoulders and, normally you are used to it's weight but it's been getting tiring lately, the universe has been giving you a lot this year and it's all been for your greater good, you have been going through a lot of transformers this year. So many, you wouldn't even recognize the person you were this time last year, do you look at yourself in the mirror and see someone you don't know? There's been a disconnection between your mind and body, you walk and work and do your chores but your mind is absent from everything, nothing has been fulfilling you lately. Venus going retrograde in Capricorn is going to ask you to slow down, sit down and think where do you plan to go in life, or in 2022. You are not the kind of person to just do things because, you need passion and drive and motivation, you've been doing things because it's the job and it has to be done. But you can't spend your life disconnecting from things when you don't want to do them, to do them. You are meant to do more, you want more, “more, more, more” you know you have a talent, an ability and a way of doing things no one else does. Why are you settling down? Is unlike you. My advice for you on this period is to rest, going on a vacation or a weekend getaway is what you need as of now. In terms of love, since Venus is the planet of love and it's going to be in retrograde, every decision that you make about this topic will have a huge impact until March, scary, right? Your love life has been very moved as of these last few months, you have various suitors but your eyes are focused on someone else. Don't worry for reciprocation, this person feels the same for you, they are so obsessed with you. But this is a newly relationship, or it's yet not official, you both have to take it slow, even if you don't want to sometimes. You and this person have to be very careful this time since stupid fight scan arise from misunderstanding and miscommunication. You must trust the other person and be patient to each other's feelings, this is a delicate time for people in real in general. If you've been planning on starting, or have started, a project as an entrepreneur, don't put yourself down everytime things don't go according to plan, have faith and, if you are feeling stressed or tired, taking breaks is going to help you a lot. You need to work more on your creativity and motivation, I'd recommend crystals to help you with that kind of stuff. And rest!
𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; Florida Kilos by Lana Del Rey, Video Games by Lana Del Rey
đ”đ‘œđ‘œđ‘˜ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; the seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
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𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 đ‘Ąđ‘€đ‘œ; â€œđŒ đ‘€đ‘Žđ‘›đ‘Ą 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ.”
«When you've been alone for as long as I, you too will start to romanticize everything around you, to me, tenderness is a luxury I can only see from afar.»
You are a hopeless romantic from the get-go, you like the idea of love, soulmates and the happily ever after but you fail to put much effort in relationships when things get though. People around you, and suitors, see you as an angel, a majestic being that has a soft nature to them, they are naturally drawn to you and you can have a lot of secret admirers, beware of stalkers. You like writing or acting a lot, art is a form of romance, you've probably been single for a very long time or never had a partner, despite your beautiful and inviting aura, you are still waiting for “the one”, you'll know who they are when you see them. There's almost a childlike nature in your way of expressing affection, sometimes selflessly, others selfishly, you move and do things according to your mood of the moment. A very sensitive person, both in good and in bad ways, you feel a lot and it can be very overwhelming, you write, paint, create as a way, not only because you're passionate but because it calms you down, it puts your feet back to earth, you have a thing for renaissance paintings and music in other languages. Your childhood was very difficult and tumultuous, you grew up in a extremely dysfunctional home, and so you've learnt to be quite and passive and the peacekeeper. This has followed you in your adult life, fearing your parents will no longer like or tolerate you of you'd talked. You have a really long hair or are in process of growing it. Taurus is very present in your chart, Taurus or 2H stellium, Taurus rising, Venus dominant, Venus Rx as the chart ruler, Virgo in 5H.
For this Venus Rx, your creativity will be tested the most, Venus rules creativity and you have been putting off your calling for a long time. For an unfulfilling job? Helping people or relatives that never gave back the same energy? You've been busy, trying to be busy so you won't do what you said you were going to do. I get it, making art is difficult, it's not an office job and it can be emotionally draining, but you have been postponing something very specific. If you have been thinking of sending your resume or your tape to a casting but haven't done it out of shame, Venus Rx will bring back that irking sensation of an opportunity being missed, and it's probably true. If you are a frustrated writer and are scared to send your manuscript or start your story, Venus retrograde in Capricorn will give you the strength to be discipline and just do it. Your theme from now (December 19th) till March is; just do it. You have a vision that you want to share with the world, you've probably been looked down or ignored by your relatives when you talked about your interests and hobbies and such, but you are grown now. They do not control you or what you decide to do with your life. In terms of love, because Venus is the planet of love, and it going retrograde will bring up a lot of uncomfortable questions we've avoided to ask ourselves, you have to be honest with your feelings and also be careful with whom you share such feelings. Somebody is watching you, stalking you, they are obsessed with you and this energy can't be good, if they look like a friend or a possible suitor, be very careful, their energy is weird. You have been alone for quite some time, or never had a romantic relationship, and you're grown, and getting tired. Do not settle for the first person that gives you flowers, because you might regret it later, asset yourself, ask yourself why do you feel the need to be with someone else, do you feel unfilled in life? Do you think a partner will fix that? Art not only is your passion but also your partner, your truest love, your other half and your soulmate. And you're being a neglectful lover to them!
𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths, gold rush by Taylor Swift
đ”đ‘œđ‘œđ‘˜ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; the song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
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𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒; â€œđŒ'𝑚 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑱𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑑.”
«Life is so cruel to those who are different, they are mocked and used, discarded and hurted, the only kind hand they know is loneliness itself.»
You are an erudite, a very capable and smart person that others look up to. You might had been the best in the class in school, and even at college, your coworkers and colleagues admire you but it's really difficult to get to know you since you like being alone a lot. Your mind is always on the go and you dissociate from reality to your mind palace often, others might think you are ignoring them or you don't like them, when in truth you are in your own little world. This is why you have a few hidden enemies, these people think you think you're above them and thus creating this fake rivalry, your disconnection to the real world can be dangerous, people can think of you as a selfish, narcissistic person that's only focus on themselves. You have a very distorted view of yourself, you don't deem yourself smart or talented or unique as people say, you have been battling an internal fight between doing the things that you feel passion for, and the impostor syndrome you've had since you were young. There's someone here that seems to be a karmic relationship, a faithful union that has a purpose. You and this person are similar in a lot of things and this triggers the other, as they see themselves in each other, you are both intelligent people with a sick need to be perfect in everything you do, far away from society and the real world, I can see that meeting this person was like going back to earth, although you might not be meant to end up together, the purpose of this meeting is apparent. You could have a Capricorn or 10H stellium, a water rising, Virgo Sun/Moon/Asc, Aquarius Sun/Moon/Asc, air dominant, earth sign in the 7H, Saturnian dominant, Saturn Rx, Moon/Rising, water and air are significant placements in both.
You have been trying to find a purpose in life right now, but nothing seems good or motivates you enough, you are a standstill, which is very stressful for you, not doing anything is really bad for your already busy mind, you've spent a lot more time in your head as of lately and thinking on how to move forward to start a project or find a new job or change your life a little bit. You are taking others advise since your mind is foggy and you don't know what to do next, what do you want to do? Sitting still is something you are used to, maybe for work, but when it comes to your thoughts is like you are stuck in what ifs and it's clouding your vision, you need to reassert yourself and find a way to center yourself. In a literal sense, you should really take time off your phone and get out of the house to a place in nature, taking walks alone is also going to really help you reorganize your thoughts and ideas, you are used to dealing with these issues on your own, when it comes to matters of the mind you are better at resolving them on your own, at your own pace. When it comes to matters of the heart, your logical thinking can get in the way of rational thinking and you end up ignoring your emotions all together because you don't know how to deal with them. This Venus retrograde is perfect to ask for help when it comes to feelings if it's something you've struggled with your whole life, asking for advice will give you a new perspective and you'd be able to think clearly instead of getting nervous because you don't know how to deal with the situation at hand. In love, Venus Rx, since it's the planet of love going backwards, it will bring up that person a lot, your mind will start wonder what are they up to and you might even dream a lot of them, if you are no talking to them anymore, but if you're still in contact, dreams can still be recurring as this person is also thinking about you a lot too. It's true that this transit brings back past people as one is reminiscing about the past and past relationships more often now. I don't like telling people about reunions especially as this transit can make a person do things without thinking of the consequences, but there seems to be a reunion between you and this other person, I can't be 100% sure but you might stumble with each other on accident or this person will come talk to you out of nowhere, don't be scared! You will get really anxious since you haven't talked to them in a long time and things might've ended up with coldness and one ghosting the other. If this occurs, you have to be mindful that this is a very delicate time for relationships, of this person doesn't seem genuine about their intentions or feelings, you should cut them off, but if they want to have a serious, honest conversation, don't panic either, as you might have a tendency to run away when it comes to showing vulnerability, just like them. If you are willing to talk and listen to each other, this can end up in a heart-to-heart conversation that'll clear up a lot of misunderstanding from the past. Ultimately, this will serve both of you to let go of resentments or fears you had of each others and be able to move on.
𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; Beautiful Crime by Tamer, Supercut by Lorde
đ”đ‘œđ‘œđ‘˜ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; the Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo
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𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑱𝑟; â€œđŒ 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑱𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑱𝑟𝑛.”
«My heart has to breath, and i keep trying to open the windows for the light to come in, but you keep trying to close them, so the light won't get to us, why? I'm dying here, and you're the reason.»
You are a patient, giving person. You are prone to continuous days of no motivation or inexplicable sadness, you can have a physical disability or just have a delicate physical health. You have a quiet voice and people tend to ignore what you're saying, you've learnt to keep things to yourself, it's all the same if people are going to ignore you when you try to talk. You have short black or dark hair, you could be a man or nonbinary , you don't have/feel comfortable with the feminine side of yourself although you are a very sensitive person, you have a long neck? You do have delicate features and you might not quite like it since people made fun of you for these same features, you're a person that gets overwhelmed pretty easily, you might be neurodivergent? You have few friends and most of them are from childhood, probably. You have a tendency to bottle everything up and when you let it all out, it comes out very abruptly so people don't understand, known as the empathic of the family or friends group, you remind me a lot of pile two, they feel a lot and it can be hurtful, you should check that one too. You depend on your family a lot, economically or literally to do everyday tasks, and they might be overprotective of you, very. You feel trapped and without autonomy, your family members take advantage of your disadvantages and can make you feel like you are a chore sometimes, you are a very loving person, caring and sweet, they use your good traits for their own gain. Cancer and Aquarius rising is a big one for you, Saturn in 12H or Capricorn, Aquarius, Cancer or Capricorn Venus, Cancer.
For Venus Rx, you are going through a major transformation, yes, it's mostly correlated to your family. I see you've been very sad and off lately, or for the entirety of 2021, something happened that made you want to change your life altogether, or it's something you are going to experience in this transit. It's very important that you assert boundaries with your parents and tell them that there are some things that you want to keep private. You are fed up with not having a space for yourself where you can just be, without anyone's opinions on what you do or how you do it. Maybe you've been thinking of moving out of home with a partner? A friend? You don't want to do it alone since you've been told that you are too clumsy or not capable enough to take care pf yourself and this hurts a lot. This Venus retrograde will force you to make a decision, more abruptly, to decide quickly what is it that you want to do and if you're going to keep letting your family get in the way of your freedom and your desires. Why do you let them control your life? Is it because you don't know any better? You are not what your family thinks of you, you are not dumb, incapable or a chore. You are not too much or an annoyance, they are treating you as an extension of them, when, in reality, you are your own person, your thoughts and ideas are not the same as them and they can't stand it. But if you've been feeling caged up, this is the perfect time to rethink your relationships with your relatives, if you have to cut them out, so be it. In love, since Venus is I'm retrograde, you must be careful of impulsive ideas when it comes to your love life, I'd you have a partner, try to communicate with them and tell them how you're feeling, don't push them away since this is just going to make matter worse. This person adores you, they see you as the one, an angel they're lucky to be with, they truly, truly like you. You and this person might be very similar, shy and caring, scared of confrontation so you just don't say anything that bothers you, but this will do more harm than good. You two should start having those uncomfortable conversations and talk about what's wrong, if you want this relationship to grow it's vital to be sincere and stop saying you are fine when you aren't, this person will be more than honoured to help you and be there for you and be your rock, they feel for you what you feel for them. Start speaking up about what bothers you, if people aren't happy with you standing up for yourself, they aren't worth your time.
𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; Dueles by Jesse & Joy, Another Love by Tom Odell
đ”đ‘œđ‘œđ‘˜ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; the invisible life of Addie LaRue by V.E Schawb
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𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒; â€œđ·đ‘œđ‘›'𝑡 đ‘€đ‘œđ‘Ÿđ‘Ÿđ‘Š, đŒ đ‘˜đ‘›đ‘œđ‘€ đ‘’đ‘„đ‘Žđ‘đ‘Ąđ‘™đ‘Š đ‘€â„Žđ‘Žđ‘Ą đŒ 𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔”
«It is good to do things you are not good at, to try, to fail, to learn. I, on the other hand, do it so I can brag about it when I perfected it.» 
You are a loud, outgoing person, you make your presence notice and people adore your energy. You are a very honest person too, although you tend to lie for your own benefit, most of the time you say exactly what you mean and you do it gracefully, people respect you and your opinions, they look up to you, everybody wants to be like you? You have many admirers and many enemies you aren't even aware of, they envy you. You should read pile one too, i feel you have very similar personalities. You find pleasure in things that are intense and quick, a sports fan or you do some type of sport, you need your body to move all the time and you tend to leave others behind when it comes to achieving something, you aren't good at group projects since you like doing things your way and you are a very demanding person when it comes to work. Others don't like or understand how can you be so goal oriented all the time and want to do so many things all the time too, you used to be the loud kid who wouldn't shut up and, at some point in your life you were forced to cool it down. Now you just do whatever is that you feel like, which is a doubled edged sword, you can be very selfish and narcissistic at times, workaholic and never pay attention to other's opinions. You should relax once in a while and come down to earth, with all the regular people. You are definitely a cardinal dominant, Aries or Capricorn signature, stellium, 5H stellium, Martian rising, Pluto in 5H, Scorpio Mars in 5H/6H, Leo or Scorpio in Sun/Moon/Rising or 5H,
This time is perfect to perfect your abilities, you have a familiarity with retrogrades and something tells me you have a considerable amount of retrogrades in your own chart, or Venus Rx, because this time you will the one to benefit the most out of all the piles specially if you are an artist or an entrepreneur, a creative burst of energy will kick you and you should definitely take advantage of this, I see you have been trying to find your calling, your passion or the thing that moves you, if you haven't found it yet; don't worry, since you will do so during this transit. If you already know what is it that you want to do, you should put your energy into that one thing, it will guarantee you success, recognition and, if money has been a constant struggle for you lately, your finances will start to improve gradually, the more time and effort you put into this, the better the outcome. I'm only telling you this because you have a tendency to abandon ideas and plans when they aren't as interesting as they used to, but you must keep going and try to remember yourself why you wanted to do this to begin with.
In love, a lot of things are improving for you, as I said, this retrograde will be very beneficial for you, and if you use it to your advantage and don't take it for granted, you will be seeing a lot of good things coming your way. Now, you might be single and not interested in anyone at all at the moment, which you don't really mind, you can become very obsessive and passionate about the people you like so, to you it's better to not have any distractions. However, this Venus Rx will bring someone new and interesting, a person that's at your level per say, they don't mind that you like the chase or being hot and cold, they probably like that as well, and this person isn't the type to commit either, they think relationships are complicated and a lot of work, but you will captivate them and they will find it impossible to let go of these mind games you two have. This seems like a very playful and sensual energy, but be careful, if you prolong these type of games and behaviors, one will end up being tired of it and might leave. If you feel like you aren't ready for a relationship, let it be known, this person doesn't like people that can't decide or being lied to, the vibes from this person are so intense you might've found yourself a Scorpio! Be smart about the decisions you make in your love life, because it can turn sideways very quickly.
𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; Enemy by Imagine Dragons, Remember My Name by Mitski
đ”đ‘œđ‘œđ‘˜ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑩𝑜𝑱; king of scars by Leigh Bardugo
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I am. Tired.
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somebodystoleme · 2 years ago
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you know when it's time to go | miya atsumu x reader
summary: you always knew you and atsumu could never be together; you were two worlds apart, and two worlds it will stay
w.c: > 1.0k
a/n: UHH PART 2???? y'all im so sorry abt the request i'm almost done w/ most of them :)))
warnings: cheating, angst, cliffhanger
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you know when it's time to go
when you got home from your shift at the coffee shop, it seemed that time had stopped. atsumu's sports jacket laid across the wooden table, you two bought when it was your 19th birthday. but as you take a closer look at it you realize how scratched up it looks, you see the water stains on the time.
you know where atsumu is right now. he's with her. you know he is. as you grab out the wine bottle and pop it open, you can't help to wonder why you are with him to start.
maybe it's cause he stuck with you when you were grounded your whole senior year. you used to have sleepovers with your best friend so you could text him on her phone, smiling constantly. but soon trouble spewed all over everything that was supposed to be perfect.
you first noticed the way he looks at her in sophomore year. she had that personality. you know! that one! the funny one, the happy one, and the one who fakes everything cause that was what she was taught. you on the other hand were completely opposite. while she was out partying with him, you were stuck at home trying to study for your ap exam the next day.
or perhaps maybe it's because when you spent time complaining over your parent's divorce, she was bragging about her new weight. it constantly felt like a competition, it was all a sick game in her head. she knew i was angry. but he wasn't mine, so why should you care?
until senior prom. you dressed up in your finest attire. all your stupid paycheck from that stupid coffee shop you still work at. he wore the black suit he's had since 9th grade. something changed between you two that night. he thought you seemed like an angel underneath the light, you likewise. he kissed you. right underneath that cheap disco.
he was a dream.
his lips were chapped that night, you run your hand over your mouth to maybe have some recognition of that night. nothing. you run cold thinking about miya astumu now.
he would ask you out the next day. and you said yes. but dear god did he make you happy.
you caught astumu cheating on you for the first time last may. your head plopped down on his tough chest. you were watching a thriller and pulled the blanket closer to the both of you. but as the movie kept on going, he kept texting someone. every three minutes he pulled his phone out and his cheesy grin would plaster on.
you were confused at first
angry the second
you grabbed the phone.
it just happen, it felt gravitated towards it, you grabbed it.
you saw the messages and even who it was. atsumu didn't even try to hide it. you scrolled throughout. but what shocked you the most was-
it was from her.
you cry about it, you should've left when that happened. but you didn't. you let him again after the fight. he promised he would cut it off. he said he started going to church. that was the first time you ever saw such panic on his face.
you know he's cheating right now. you check the clock. 2 a.m. he deleted life360 a long time ago.
"it's invasion of privacy!"
"but- atsumu. you cheated on me! don't forget that!"
"i don't care. aurora wouldn't do this."
he said it as if i was the monster- like i forced him to date me. i should've broken up with him then. on sundays, he would tell he was going to church. but now that i think about it, he's never once told me anything about it.
the door opens.
it's atsumu thinking i'm about to start begging for him to tell him what's wrong. but i'm not.
"atsumu."
"y/n."
"let's end this."
"what."
"whatever sick game you and aurora are playing let's stop it."
"why? why would you leave. i gave you everything."
i turned around to face him, "atsumu- or should i say miya now? i know you and her are fucking behind my back. i didn't know church lasted till 2 a.m?"
"y/n. i can't do this again. i love you so much! why don't you see this? are you crazy or something?"
"i'm not crazy! i'm just sick of waiting for you to change! you never showed any sign of change; just lies, lies, lies! i'm sick." i grab my phone off the wooden table and my cardigan.
"goodbye atsumu."
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perksofbeingjune20 · 3 years ago
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Spooky (Dad x adoptive daughter)
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(Instead of Spooky getting shot, his adoptive daughter jumped in front of him taking the shots but survive)
This is Kiara Diaz↓↓↓
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It's been months since my dad Oscar Diaz left the Santos gang to better his life and raised me right.
Yep you guys heard me right, Oscar Diaz aka Spooky is my dad well my adoptive dad.
Hi my name is Kiara Diaz.
I met Spooky when I was just five years old when some gang members from the prophet$ was trying to rob my parents which they refused and they was killed in front of me. So I took off running as fast as I could but they ended up catching and beat me up until Spooky and his gang members saved me.
After that, Spooky took me in and raised me like his own until on my birthday, he adopted me. The Santos gang became like a family to me, Sad Eyes who is my dad's best friend became my uncle and then I met my dad's brother Cesar Diaz.
When I met his brother Cesar, he welcomed me with open arms and introduced me to his friends Ruby, Jamal, Monse, and Jasmine who was nice to me and hung out with me.
As I grew up, my life went on a crazy ride from Cesar getting jumped into the gang to him failing to kill Latrelle from the prophet$ to him on the run to Jamal finding the Rollerworld money to Ruby and Olivia getting shot which lead to Ruby surving but not Olivia to Cuchillos asking Cesar and his friends to find Lil Ricky to Cuchillos getting killed by 19th Street.
I also went through the chaos with the group's relationship and Monse leaving for private school. I even got to meet my grandpa Ray aka Spooky and Cesar's dad, at first my dad didn't like the fact he just came back into their lives but he accepted him in the long run.
Spooky made sure he raised me different, he didn't want me in the gang. Even though he was tough, he actually wanted me to focus on school and my music, now I'm in college for music/writing with an college scholarship with my boyfriend Alex Gray who is in college for music/writing as well which we are thinking about making music together
This is Alex Gray (Kiara's boyfriend)↓↓↓
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I met Alex in high school when we were 17 when he walked in the music room during lunch when I was singing and working on a project and from that day we hit it off, of course my dad was overprotective of me but accept my relationship with Alex.
Then my dad found love and got married to a girl named Isabel who accepted me like her own and is now expecting a baby girl which I'm so excited to have a little sister.
Now my life is even more crazier, Cesar is now the leader of the Santos, I found out when my dad had a private conversation with my uncle Sad Eyes which Cesar found out and came to our house with some of the gang and his new girlfriend Vero damaging the car and threaten my mother's life which I didn't take kindly putting Cesar in his place.
Flashback↓↓↓
Cesar walked up to my dad with the bat in his hand and said
"Next time it won't be the car" threatening my mom life's including his niece
That made me mad causing me to get in front of my dad pushing Cesar which the Santos didn't like and tried to walked up on me but I gave them a look to not fuck with me.
I looked at Cesar angry and upset saying
"I don't give two fucks if you're the leader of the Santos now but what you're not going to do is threaten my mom's life including my baby sister's life who happens to be your niece so let me tell you this *getting in his face* if you attempt or even dare try to harm them, I won't hesitant putting a bullet between your eyes, I don't have to be in a gang to do it" pushing his head hard with my fingers.
Then his new girlfriend Vero got mad and walked up to me getting my face saying
"You better show him some respect" jabbing her finger hard into my shoulder.
I scoffed looking at her saying
"Vero right?, look here ms I'm the shit, this is a family matter between me, him and my dad. It has nothing to do with you so I suggest you stay in your place unless you want to get your ass beat got it puta?" getting in her face.
End of flashback↓↓↓
Since that incident, my dad decided it's best that we should move to Portland where it's safer for all of us. Of course my boyfriend Alex decided he'll come with me and thought it's time that we should live together.
So we're packing our stuff in boxes and taking it to the moving truck when we see Cesar across the street looking at us upset so we let him in the house as we sat down to listen to what Cesar got to say.
Cesar looked out the window as he said to my dad
"You were right...about everything"
I looked down at my hands knowing what he was talking about as my dad looked at him saying
"Let me call Sad Eyes"
Cesar sighed looking at us saying
"I've been put off"
I looked at him with a sad look as my dad got up to say something to him, Cesar looked at him saying
"I'm scared Oscar"
My dad looks him saying
"I know"
Cesar looks at him sad saying
"I'm sorry * looks at me* and I'm sorry too Kiara for offending you in any kind of way"
I got up from my chair, walked over to him and gave him a hug saying
"It's ok Cesar, it's gonna be okay"
My dad place his hand on his shoulder in comforting way saying
"This is what it's about mano, this moment of clarity *he hits his chest softly* we'll figure it out"
Cesar looks at him for a minute as he walked off looking at the house saying
"How much longer you got this place"
I looked at him saying
"The week"
Cesar looked at my dad saying
"Can I live here? Until I figure out a living sitch?, I'll make sure it's clean and I'll turn in the keys too"
My dad looks at him shaking his head saying
"Yeah. Sure. Sure."
Then my dad looks at the ground then at Cesar saying
"Or you can come with me and Kiara to Portland" smiling softly at him as he continue saying
"We can leave tonight"
Cesar looks at him shaking his head no as he say
"I can't"
I looked at him and said
"Why? What's keeping you here?"
Cesar looks at me with a sad look saying
"My life"
I looked at him with a sad look saying
"What life? Cesar come with us and build one"
My dad looks at him saying
"Mira, remember when we were on the beach, and you said you wanted us to live above my restaurant? Well, the space I found has a studio above it, I was gonna use it as an office but you can even live there if you want, I know it's not the beach but it's a start. You can go to school, you still wanna be an architect? Do it! Whatever you wanna do, you can do it from there, you can do it with me but you can't do it here."
Cesar sighed as he looked around and said
"What about Vero?"
I scoffed looking at Cesar saying
"¿Qué hay de esa perra irrespetuosa?"
(Translation : "What about that disrespectful ass puta?")
(I'm using Google translate so bear with me lol)
My dad looks at me saying
"Kiara"
I mumbled sorry as my dad looks at Cesar and say
"If she loves you, she'll understand"
Cesar look at my dad for a good minute until he said
"Okay. Yeah let's do it" causing me to smile and say
"Yeah?"
Cesar gives me a soft smile saying
"I'm gonna come with you"
I gives him a hug and look at him smiling saying
"I'm so excited, it's been a while since I kicked your ass in Call of Duty and I can't wait for you to my boyfriend Alex"
Cesar chuckles at my excitement saying
"You gotta a boyfriend? Is he treating right? He better be treating you right"
I playfully rolled my eyes saying
"Ugh you sound like my dad"
My dad chuckles as he hugs Cesar all excited that he agree to come with us, my dad looks at him saying
"This is our moment cabrĂłn, we're gonna be a real family. A real, real one this time" as he chuckles softly.
My dad looks around saying
"You know what, this deserves a drink before we hit the road, let me get the good tequila *looks at Cesar* shot glasses on the counter ok?" as we headed outside to get the tequila.
I looked at my dad excited and happy saying
"I'm so happy that he's coming with us"
My dad smiles at me saying
"Me too, oh let me call your mother and let her know" taking out his phone and called mom.
Mom answered asking if we was on the road yet as my dad said
"He's coming with us Isabel. He's actually coming with us."
I can hear mom ask who so I grabbed the phone from my dad's hand saying
"Cesar ma, he's here now."
Mom ask me
"Is he okay?"
I said
"Yeah, yeah, he's fine" handing the phone back to my dad as we walked to the truck.
My dad continue saying
"Shit went down, but I think it got his mind right. He even apologized"
I can hear mom telling my dad that it's great as they continue talking.
Then all of sudden I see a car that looks suspicious and my dad noticed it as he told mom that he got to go and that we love her, the car window rolled down as I saw a gun before my dad did causing my eyes to widen jumping in front of my dad wrapping my arms around him pushing him to the ground screaming
"LOOK OUT!" feeling pain hit me in my back and stomach as the gunshots stopped.
Cesar came running outside to see what happen and saw us on the ground so he ran over to us checking to see if we was fine my dad looks at Cesar saying
"I'm fine, I'm ok"
Then my dad's heart drops as he sees me on my bleeding from my stomach with my blood coming out my mouth a little bit causing him to run over to me screaming no and said
"Kiara oh my god, Cesar call 911" placing my head on his lap as Cesar applied pressure on my wounds calling 911.
I looked at him weakly saying
"Hey Dad"
My dad looks at me trying not to cry saying
"You're gonna to be ok, ok sweetie? You're gonna be ok"
I give him a weak smile as my eyes started to close slowly but my dad tapped my cheek softly saying
"Kiara, keep your eyes open ok? don't close them ok? The ambulance is on the way"
I shook my head ok as I tried to keep my eyes open but was failing as darkness surrounded me and my dad voice fades away.
Hey guys, i hope everyone enjoy this imagineâ€đŸ˜ƒ
Part 2 coming soon
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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years ago
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The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo
It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.
You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.
Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)
Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!
Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB
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You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.
The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.
*beginning of flashback*
"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.
"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"
"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.
He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.
"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.
*end of flashback*
He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).
He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).
The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.
You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.
You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.
"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.
"Good news?" you asked him.
"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.
"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.
"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."
"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.
"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.
"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.
"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.
"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.
"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.
He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!
"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.
"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.
You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.
"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.
"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.
"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.
You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.
"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.
"I'll never understand how you drink that"
"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"
"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.
"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.
"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.
"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.
"It's true, though"
"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.
"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.
"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"
"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.
"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.
"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.
"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.
"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.
"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.
"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.
"Tomorrow?" you asked her.
"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.
"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.
"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"
"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.
"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.
"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.
"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.
"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.
"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.
"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.
"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.
"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.
"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.
"Burn!" Daniel laughed.
"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.
"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.
"Perfect!" she beamed.
>>> end of part 1 <<<
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hansolmates · 4 years ago
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17 going on 27
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summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. pairing; photographer!jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england w/c; 22.6k a/n; it’s that time of the year baby! the time of the year where i binge watch the good ol’ early 2000s romcoms that make absolutely no sense! a huge thank u to @eerieedits​ for making this beautiful banner. vivi got the whole delia’s/claire’s vibe down to a t! 
if you enjoy this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share✹✹✹
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March 19th, 2011
Thirty, flirty, and thriving!
You finger the dog-eared magazine, last month’s issue of a shoddy fashion magazine that featured top actress Jennifer Garner on the front cover. Her caramel brown highlights practically glow on the page, blown out and beautiful. You suppress a sigh, you long to be the radiant young woman on the cover. The headline is glittery, sparkly and just begging for attention. 
Swiping a hand through the pages, your eyes are crowded with over-stimulation. Colorful models dressed up in the latest designs, Chanel and Burberry suits you can only dream of, and happy women at the prime of their lives. 
Twenty-seven and in Heaven! You smile wryly at the cheesy rhyme that headlines the following pages, but nevertheless the happy model on the spread does indeed look like they’re in heaven. 
Sure, you’re no shrinking violet. Heck, you don’t even consider yourself painfully average. You may not be on the traditional spectrum of popularity in high school, but you get around and have a wonderful best friend and an even better boyfriend. However given the social classes that preside, you do get those moments where you second guess your life’s position. Good thing high school has an expiration date, and you’re close to the end.  
“Baby Bun, what are you doing?” the magazine is snatched from your grasp, thrown on the table without a care in the world. Jennifer Garner’s hydro-whitened smile gleams tauntingly at you, “reading that junk is gonna mess with your head.” 
Your boyfriend returns from his final suit fitting, his outfit for tonight all pressed and ready to go. He pouts at you, pulling you up by the hand to lead you out of the Men’s Warehouse. Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the lacrosse team, flying by high school with a sports scholarship already in the bag. Eats up attention like plants soak up the sun. Secretly loves taking photographs of his dog and watching Netflix animes at your house. 
“Aren’t you excited for prom?” 
“Excited to listen to LMFAO’s Party Rock Anthem on repeat?” you guaff, “as if.” 
He pinches your arm lightly, “You also forget that we’re gonna tear up the floor to Nicki Minaj’s Superbass.” 
You shrug listlessly, crunching the white plastic closer to your body. 
Before you can suck all the air out of the garment bag, Jungkook carefully extracts it from your grasp, easily holding it between his one arm so he can thread his other hand through yours. “I am excited! It’s just that
 Jimin’s not gonna be there and we’re sitting with the Yearbook committee.”
Looking down at the floor you extract your hand from his, slipping into his parent’s Honda Civic. The yearbook committee, meaning you’d be sitting at a table with head editor Jennie and her group of friends. Friends that are popular and pretty, just like Jungkook. 
Jimin is currently on a flight back from Korea due to a family funeral, therefore leaving a seat empty at your prom table. It was only seat that you cared about, other than Jungkook’s. It’s no one’s fault and Jimin of course is doubly upset to miss prom, but without your best friend you’re not sure if you can survive the night. 
One of the few secrets you keep from Jungkook is the fact that Jennie and you aren’t exactly friendly to each other. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t run the in same friend group or you always win the debate in Civics class, but Jennie clearly expresses her dislike for you as easily as she expresses her love for Jungkook. 
Which makes you incredibly insecure, but Jennie and Jungkook have been friends for longer than you and him have been together, who are you to intervene? 
Jungkook slips in the driver’s seat, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 
Right. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend, and that should matter more than his friendship with Jennie. 
But the smell of his freshly cleaned lacrosse jersey, his duffle bag overflowing with protein powder and unfinished assignments remind you that you have your world and he has his. A conversation about your insecurities could wait until tomorrow. 
“When’s Jimin’s flight?” Jungkook asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping on your thigh as he pulls out. 
“He’ll be back two hours into the dance,” you report, albeit glumly as you rest your head against the cool window. 
“That sucks,” Jungkook replies, a bit of sadness in his tone, “he has to miss out on his prom night.” 
You shrug, “Prom isn’t everything, it’s about the people you spend it with.” 
“Well then,” he squeezes your thigh, “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” 
You only have a few hours to get ready until you meet Jungkook at his house for pictures, so when you get dropped off, you tell him that he doesn’t have to get out of the car to escort you into your home. But Jungkook is insistent, putting the car in park and getting out your dress for you with such delicacy that you’re positively sure there’s no wrinkles in the fabric. Taking the dress from his grasp you wish him goodbye and a promise to meet each other later. 
“Wait,” Jungkook is biting his lip, unable to let go of your hand even though you’re already up the stairs. You’re looking down at him, a rarity considering his tall frame. 
“What’s wrong, Kook?” 
“Uh, I was just thinking,” he’s scratching the back of his head, and you soften. The little quirk he has is a sign of insecurity, being the star player Jungkook is forced to exude confidence to a fault. “Maybe, we could skip the prom thing? You said so yourself that prom is about the people you spend it with.” 
Your eyes widen, clutching your dress tighter. “What? Jungkook, that’s ridiculous. Between the both of us we’ve spent a lot of money on the clothes and the tickets.” 
“Right,” he forces a laugh, and you put a hand on your hip to think it out but you can’t quite place what’s going on. “Sorry Bun, I just know how the finale of our favorite anime airs tonight.” 
“You’re so silly,” you chastise, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Normally he hates it, but you can’t help but melt when he leans into your touch a little more. “C’mon, I know suits are stuffy and stuff, but let’s just do this high school rite of passage thing. Afterwards we can go to McDonalds or something and watch the recording.” 
“You’re right,” his face is red, “what was I thinking? Can’t miss out on a night to see my beautiful girlfriend all dressed up.” 
He squeezes your hand one last time, a little too tight for comfort. With a half smile he waves, going into his car and driving off. 
You don’t have time to dwell on his weirdness (and trust when you say that Jungkook is plenty weird and it astounds you how the rest of your class has no idea) so you fly up to your room to get your hair and makeup ready. Your parents greet you excitedly along the way, telling you there’s a package left for you on your vanity.
It’s a plain cardboard box, already cut and unwrapped by your parents for convenience. The address shows it came from Korea, proudly displaying the name of your best friend on the return address. Inside is a beautiful compact, made of brushed gold and pink metal. The makeup inside is a loose glitter from a brand that you don’t recognize, but since it’s a gift from Jimin, you trust his taste. 
I have to be at prom somehow, Jimin’s note on the box reads, don’t overthink and have fun! 
You snort, reading the sticky note over and over in Jimin’s voice. Looking over the shade, you can’t help but grimace at the clichĂ© name. Wishing Dust. The color is a little too white and silvery for your taste, but you’ll wear it in honor of Jimin. 
The dress, the hair, the makeup all come together little by little. You like the ritual of getting ready, building yourself up to the highest order and feeling closer and closer to the beautiful women in magazines. Surprisingly, your favorite part of getting ready is applying the glitter that Jimin gifted you. The puff enclosed is cloud soft, and surprisingly the color doesn’t look too ashen on your skin. The glitter sinks into your skin like a soft butter, accentuating your collarbones and cheeks as if you are glowing from within. 
You smile at yourself in the mirror. A little part of you wishes you could look like this everyday. You wish you could always look and feel this confident, and act mature and graceful. 
A buzzing on your desk stops your wishful thinking, and you frown at the message that lights up your phone. 
Jungkook: sorry bun, but the civic finally broke down and its on its way to car heaven. Could we meet at the party hall instead? We can take pictures there, jennie mentioned yearbook hired a photographer
Disheartened, you send a quick text back saying it’s fine. Any more explanation on your feelings would reveal your disappointment. You don’t know how you’re going to tell your parents that they won’t be taking pictures with your boyfriend anytime soon. So you suck it in and take solo pictures for your parents and some group selfies. This is just one bump in the night, the rest of it should be smooth sailing. 
But when your parents drop you off at the venue your eyes first land on a beat up Honda Civic. You’re pretty sure car heaven isn’t at the prom. 
The rest of your entrance is a blur as you go through every corner of the venue, searching for your boyfriend. You’re clutching his matching flower in your hand, a beautiful red rose with baby’s breath circling around it, all clutched together in a black silk ribbon. You wonder what kind of flower he bought you. 
But it’s nearly impossible to find him. Not at the photobooth, the appetizer buffet, or in the lobby. It’s not until you’re sweating at the brow and nearing the corner of the venue that you do find him.
Lips locked, kissing Jennie. 
The plastic encasing Jungkook’s boutonniere drops, clanging to the ground. 
Whispers of you circle the air, meeting your ears and confirming all your insecurities. 
“Oh my god, I knew Jungkook was cheating on her!” 
“Wow, how pathetic. She ran all the way to prom alone to see this?” 
“I thought his girlfriend was a smart girl. How did she not know that their relationship was a bet all along?” 
Jungkook and Jennie are on the balcony, looking picture perfect in matching formal attire and flowers. The sun is setting, not taking its time as it sinks deeper and deeper into the horizon. The sky darkens and the air is chilly, much like your heart. 
Jungkook's eyes are wide and in shock as he watches you from the balcony, but Jennie’s are sharp and satisfied. Satisfied, as if the whole thing had been orchestrated. 
While you can’t hear him because he’s so far away, you can see the ghost of your name on his lips. Your ears are ringing, numb to the laughter of the students watching and the pity that others are throwing at you. You feel dumb. You feel like throwing up. In a bout of anger your heel digs into the plastic of the boutonniere, crushing the innocent rose in its clear coffin. 
You don’t make it far out the door when one of your favorite teachers snatches you in concern. 
“Honey, any further and you’ll be running on the highway," Mrs. Song jokes, pulling you away from the entrance. 
You feel like a newborn deer in your heels and incredibly heavy in your dress as Mrs. Song drags you over to a staff bathroom. It's far, far away from the actual party. Mrs. Song doesn't say anything, and just gives you a sad smile as she let's you go into the single stall alone. 
Sitting on the toilet and not giving a care that your dress is probably getting soiled, you bury your face in your hands and finally let the tears flow. Fat, frustrated tears roll down your cheeks without a care in the world. 
"Mrs. Song please, I need to get in there." 
"Now Jungkook, I think you've done enough for today. Go back to the party and don't worry about it." 
You can imagine Jungkook now, he hated it when people told him not to worry.  It only made him more annoyed, fists probably clenched under his perfectly tailored suit and his cute teeth uncharacteristically gritted. He cared to a fault, at least you thought he did. He ruined your night, he made you feel so dumb and silly.
But the longer you stayed in the dim bathroom, you could care less. Thank goodness for Mrs. Song guarding the door. Why would he bother to follow you? It turns out all your insecurities are not in vain, and that you’ve been ignoring a gut feeling you’ve mistaken for your lack of trust. You shouldn’t have trusted Jungkook. You shouldn’t have been so tolerable of Jennie. 
Goodness, you feel so stupid. You hope that there are other bathrooms for staff to use, because you want to coop yourself in here until the last dance. Mascara drips on your sleeves, your hands swiping at your cheeks to stop any tears from staining your dress even further. 
The more you hear Jungkook and Mrs. Song argue, the more you want to disappear. You bury yourself on the floor, uncaring of how dirty the tiles are. Glitter smears across your cheeks and sticks to your hands, and you no longer feel like the thriving young adult you once felt when you walked out the door this evening.
All you can do is cry and pray you can get through the night. And the next day, and the rest of senior year. You don’t want to see Jungkook or Jennie until graduation, when they walk out of the door and permanently out of your life. You wish you could skip the rest of the semester, and fastforward to the life you’ve carved for yourself in your dreams since freshman year. You wish you could be like the woman on the magazine, who has her whole life put together. To be a woman who holds all the confidence in the world and doesn’t have to worry about stupid men. 
Just like the cover. Thirty, flirty and thriving. Just like the models in the magazines. Twenty-seven and in heaven. 
Just once, do you want to taste the feeling of having life on your side. 
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March 20st, 2021
Your first thought is that you feel disgusting. 
Of course, falling asleep in a random bathroom stall will make you feel those things. Your dress clinging uncomfortably to your sweating form, lulled to the sounds of Mrs. Song’s temperamental voice and Jungkook’s arguing. 
But for some reason it’s a different kind of disgusting. The feeling is rotting in your throat, as if there’s a tang stuck to the roof of your mouth. You also feel impossibly dehydrated, as if you’ve run a marathon. And for some reason you’re sore? Especially in the crotch, and you don’t remember experiencing any cramps yesterday. 
Your hands come to your body, and instead of feeling tulle and taffeta your hands are greeted with a silky black negligee that hangs across your waist. Panic stings in your bones like a stroke of lightning. 
Eyes snapping open, your breath catches in your throat when you take in the room. You’re on a large plush creme couch, large enough to be a bed. The organza curtains are a shade of bottle green and are opened slightly to let the morning sun in. From your view it seems like this is the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city horizon. 
You feel the covers shift slightly, and you realize there’s a naked man sleeping next to you. You scream. 
The man screams back with an even higher pitch, falling off the couch and clutching the sheets like a lifeline. “What?” he panics, eyes darting back and forth across the room like he’s on a reality television show. “What the fuck? Is there something on my face! Why are you screaming so early!” 
The fact that he’s an adult man and you’re seventeen is even more terrifying, and you feel absolutely naked despite the fact that you’re nearly clothed. But what confuses you more is that this man looks awfully familiar. 
Familiar in the sense that you’ve seen him in one too many television sitcoms to count. This man in front of you looks like Kim Seokjin, the protagonist of your favorite television show: Sky City. He has the same plump lips and pretty face, only aged up. But last time you checked on Soompi, Seokjin is supposed to be twenty years old and filming the next season in New Zealand. Arguably he could be his older brother, but he never acted and you don’t think he’d be the spitting image. 
“Seokjin?” you taste the name on your tongue, “Kim Seokjin?” 
Seokjin relaxes considerably, and he finds it appropriate to return to the couch, placing a tentative hand on your thigh. “Right, were you really that drunk? You got my name right, but it seems that you’ve forgotten that the only name you called me last night was sex god
” 
His plush lips meet the ends of your earlobe, and you squeal at the strange sensation. 
You’ve had sex with this man and you can’t even remember it? Furthermore how can a peasant like you be in contact with a celebrity? What on earth happened last night? Shouldn’t you be calling the police or panicking more? Where’s the pepper spray and sharp knives where you need them? You can’t even find it in you to find a sharp weapon at your once cherished-idol, who’s apparently unfazed and drinking in your body like he has a taste of it every night. 
“What’s the date?” you push him away, looking around for any signs of where you are and how you ended up here. 
“It’s the first day of spring,” Seokjin says easily, stretching out on the couch. “I wonder when the cherry blossoms will bloom. Should we have a picnic with Bogum?” 
“Where’s my phone, I can’t find my phone!” 
Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye as he digs through the couch, pulling something from under him. He waves it in front of your face. “That’s not my phone,” you deadpan. 
“Okay I guess you were actually that drunk,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, forcing the large piece of plastic and metal on your palm. “When you went to the bathroom last night you dropped your old phone in the toilet. We picked up a new one on the way to the next bar. Good thing the new Samsung dropped last month!” 
Since when are phones this large? You carry the strange weight in your hands, confused as to why Seokjin thinks this is your phone. You own a beat up 2G that barely gets any reception in the school basement. But when you turn it on, the screen recognizes your face immediately and unlocks. Wow, since when do cell phones do face recognition? 
A selfie of you and Seokjin appears on the homescreen, looking totally happy. 
Is that you? 
No longer do you have acne lining your brows, or uneven skin texture. Your smile is high and prominent. Your visage is clean and done with minimal makeup, highlighting your beauty. 
The date flickers on the top of the screen. March 20th, 2021: 7:42AM.
You scream again. Seokjin screams again for the heck of it. 
“How did this happen!” you shriek, dropping your phone to step up to the window. You bask in your reflection, mildly impressed and even more so afraid of what’s in front of you. Your body has filled out like an adult, and considering it’s ten years into the future, other things have filled out as well. Experimentally, your hands go out to your chest, squeezing. Yep, those knockers were not there the last time you checked. 
“Well, you came back from work completely drained from a shoot and I just finished filming my Everyday Skincare Routine video with Vogue,” Seokjin comes up to you, blanket tied around his waist like a long towel. “We met at our usual bar and do what we usually do when we’re both stressed: bang it out.” 
You watch as Seokjin’s hands snake around your slick silk, hugging you from behind like it’s second nature. “Is this a dream?” you ask yourself, because it’s not unlikely that you’ve had a sex dream with Seokjin and this is the aftermath dream. 
“Nope,” you yelp when Seokjin pinches your butt, hard. It stings. “This is real life, baby.” 
“Are we dating?” 
You feel Seokjin’s grip tense, and he shoves your innocent question away with a coarse laugh. “You know both you and me don’t do serious relationships. It’s why we work so well together, you know that.” 
“Right,” you reply softly. That doesn’t sound like you at all, and it scares you considerably. 
“So, I gotta go,” you panic when he lets go and starts searching around for his clothes. Your face heats up at Seokjin’s perky ass staring back at you, and your eyes dart to a random spot in the corner. “I got a green meeting with Ellen, and lord knows I don’t wanna face her wrath if I’m late.” 
In seconds he’s fully clothed in a plain shirt and jeans, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Call me beep me, if you wanna reach me,” he sings, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he leaves you in the large apartment. 
The door slams with a hard smack and that’s when you collapse on the couch that feels foreign and strange, breaking into tears. 
The next time you wake up, it’s the next day. It’s a glaringly bright Sunday and for whatever reason you’re still in this aged-up body. Maybe time travel makes the body really tired. This isn’t a dream. You panic for the second time, walking back and forth around the loft that’s apparently yours. It seems like it’s yours, because the bills that linger on the coffee table have your name and the pictures in the one bedroom are of you and your family. 
But the refrigerator in the nook is digital and has fancy ice settings, something you could never imagine owning. Your closet is filled with brand named suits, and with every designer label you pass you mentally rack up the total of just one section. It’s enough to pay for your college tuition if your first choice accepts you. 
Wait. You’re apparently twenty-seven, college is long gone. 
Lying in your bed feels better, surrounded by familiar pictures of your cousins and family. Your favorite snacks are tucked with care in your nightstand, and it makes you feel a tiny bit better knowing that your favorite chocolate and chips will never change. 
What happened in the past ten years? Why don’t you remember anything and are you entirely sure this isn’t some strange fever dream? 
Time ticks slowly as you spend the afternoon, glued to your phone. It’s a 25 Note+ and it’s filled with multiple doohickeys and settings that make you feel technologically inept. You never thought you were bad with technology, but clearly these phones have a learning curve attached to them. 
You try to call your family, but according to the voicemail left they’re on a Disney cruise that you paid for. Your heart aches at the excited voice of your parents. Why are they on a vacation without you? 
The next thing you aim for is finding Jimin’s contact. According to Google Maps, you’re not far from your hometown and you know that Jimin’s always wanted to move to the city so he must be nearby. To your chagrin, his name isn’t on your contact list. Strange, he’s always number two on speed dial. 
Clicking on the internet browser, you go to the online Whitepages and search up Park Jimin. There may be a million ones, but maybe you could get a lead. When a picture and an address show up easily with one swipe, you scoff. The internet has no room for privacy ten years later, huh? 
The most casual thing you own in your closet is a Free People dress, reaching mid-calf with flowing bell sleeves. Heck, you couldn’t even find a single pair of jeans. You don’t care however, as you swipe your keys from the counter (you gape, you own a Tesla?) and race down to the parking garage. 
Jimin’s apartment is on the other side of the city. It’s strange, transitioning from high rises and shiny windows to quaint brick walls and lived-in patio spaces. You feel like it’s a race against time as you make it all the way to his room, knocking feverishly on the mahogany red door. 
“What? Who is it?” it’s clear that his room is cheap, the walls thin as you hear his voice shuffle throughout the room. Why are you shaking? It’s just your best friend. 
The door swings open and you and Jimin drink each other in. His baby fat has melted from his cheeks, revealing a handsome and charming jawline. His hair is no longer a natural black, but has been dyed to a sandy blond that suits his tan. His eyes, wide in surprise, are still a soft brown but not as bright as when he was seventeen. 
“Jimin,” your third round of tears hits you like a truck at the sight of your best friend, and you immediately run into his arms. 
But he doesn’t hug you back immediately. In fact, he doesn’t know what to do at all. Your name rolls off his lips like he’s seen a ghost. 
You pull away, as if you are burned. You flinch at the way Jimin regards you. “Is something wrong?” 
“I don’t know,” he looks at you, crossing his arms, “I don’t know what to feel when your old best friend suddenly shows up at your doorstep after ten years.” 
What? 
“Why would I do that?” you whisper, bracing your hand against the doorframe to steady yourself. 
“Well, after graduation you chose a college at the last minute. Decided to go to a prestigious fashion university in Europe. Shacked it up with some British guys and well, forgot about your past but I guess I can’t blame you.” 
“But I couldn’t have left you,” you know you’re not even talking to Jimin, but in fact scolding yourself for being so stupid these past ten years. “I was crying for you that night at prom. All I wanted was for you to be there and hold me!” 
That strikes a cord. Jimin pops his head into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if anyone is watching. He sighs when your tears turn into sobs, shaking your form. “Come in,” he mutters, ushering you inside.
Jimin’s apartment feels more like home than your apartment does. Cosy and warm with the scent of jasmine brewing on the stove. The pour of tea soothes you slightly as you relax on the worn leather couch. 
Jimin hands you a mug, sitting opposite you against the rickety living room table. “Are you okay?” he asks, showing genuine concern for the first time. 
“I’m,” you roll the muddy liquid in your grasp, watching the tea leaves tumble. “I just came back from the hospital, actually. Hit my head drinking last night and I’m suffering from memory loss,” you clutch your head for good measure, feigning injury.  
“Memory loss?” he gapes, unable to see through your lie. 
“Yeah uh,” you wince, “almost ten years of memory loss.” 
Jimin isn’t a man who thinks ahead, preferring to live in the moment. You figure he’s not going to question your excuse. Your former best friend nearly drops his tea in the process, hot drops burning his hand. He hisses, placing the plain mug on the table as he goes to his shelves, pulling out your class yearbook. 
“Ten years,” he shakes his head, looking like he’s just stepped into a Korean drama. “Is that even possible?” 
“Must be,” you sigh, not wanting to delve into the details of how you ended up in the future, “the first thing I did when I woke up was scream my head off. Then I woke up later and the first person I called were my parents who didn’t pick up, and then I wanted to call you but,” you squeeze the cup in your hands, “I couldn’t find your contact so I searched you up.” 
“Should we call the hospital or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around like this.” 
“Don’t worry, they said the memory loss is only temporary,” you force a smile, knocking your head lightly with the heel of your palm, “I just gotta y’know, catch up a little bit. I thought you could help.” 
Jimin is patient, albeit a little nervous, watching carefully as your eyes glaze emptily over the old yearbook. You’re unfazed at the familiar faces and events that are described to you in detail, unable to recall what happened during the events that followed graduation. There’s barely any pictures of you, so it doesn’t help when he tries to explain as much as he can. 
You stop him at the sports section, pointing a finger at Jungkook being carried by his fellow teammates during the lacrosse championships. “What happened to Jungkook?” 
Jimin shrugged, “Blew his sports scholarship,” your eyebrows float to the top of your forehead, appalled that your former love would do such a thing, “decided to pursue his passion and went to an art school for a degree in photography.” 
So much has changed in the past ten years. 
“Hey, can you please stop crying?” 
“I’m sorry,” you warble, wiping at your sleeve as if the fabric didn’t cost hundreds of dollars, “I must be making you so uncomfortable by barging in. I’ll get out of your life—”
“No, not that. I just don’t like seeing you cry,” Jimin sighs, squeezing your knee, “of course I was upset when you suddenly upped and left town to study in another continent. But I was still happy for you. On the internet you seemed tons happier since highschool.” 
“I can say that’s no longer the case,” you mutter sadly, taking a long drag of your tea. The burn flows down your throat, digging you to reality, “I guess I just woke up and wasn’t prepared to be the person I ended up being.” 
“Well, what can your former best friend do to make it better?” 
Your eyes widen at Jimin’s uneasy stare, as if he’s wondering whether he said the right thing or not. 
“Um,” you bite your lip, “will you go shopping with me? I realized I don’t own any sweatpants or sneakers and I would really like to wear something comfortable right now,” you look despondently on your uncomfortable dress, swinging around the sleeves that seem to snag onto everything. 
“Okay,” he nods easily, “will you also buy me new sweatpants and sneakers? And dinner? I really want a New York Strip.” 
“What?” you furrow your brows, “can I afford that?” 
He chuckles to himself, pulling you up and wiping the tears on your face with a tissue from his pocket. You don’t even care to ask whether the tissue is clean, only focusing on the tender gesture that you’ve missed so much. 
“Honey, you’re one of the co-editors of Ego. I’m sure a couple pairs of sweatpants and steak will barely make a dent in your bank account.” 
You’re flabbergasted. Ego? The fashion magazine that’s on billboards and commercials? That Ego? 
After a couple checks through your bank account, and a triple check with a phone call and trip to the ATM, you’re sure the money is yours. It scares you, but also comforts you knowing that you’ve always been able to make it big. 
You barely bat an eye as Jimin tugs you around the city with a familiarity that has you reeling. You struggle to remember the streets you pass and the signs that indicate what part of town you’re in, all whilst Jimin basks in the fruits of your labor. You don’t give a shit, obviously. It makes you happy seeing Jimin slowly melt and grow more comfortable throughout the day. 
This is the kind of life you envisioned. One where comfort isn’t discarded for luxury, where the two cultures can marry. Jimin busts a gut when he sees you angrily shove your Free People dress deep in your shopping bags in favor of a black Adidas tracksuit that makes you feel like a soccer mom. Of course, he doesn’t know why you’re so aggressive with all your luxurious items, heck you even make him drive your Tesla, but nevertheless each passing hour brightens you up considerably.  
When you two arrive at a fancy steakhouse with a dress code, the manager doesn’t hesitate to chide you and suggest the Applebee’s down the street. 
You retort back that you’re an editor of Ego, and in seconds you’d have this restaurant swarmed with bad reviews. You know nothing about culinary review but you’re sure the manager doesn’t know that, and no arguments are placed after that. 
The evening puts you in higher spirits, and you’re almost convinced that you’re a successful twenty-something catching up with your former best friend. You’ve always been mature for your age, high school can do that to a person, and it makes it vastly easier to keep up with the new decade. 
“So,” you help Jimin get his bags up into his apartment. A little part of it feels like a bribe as you carry all the name brands on your arms, but you chalk it up to being compensation for the last ten years, “who are the people you hang out with now? Anyone I know?” 
“Well, Taehyung sometimes drops by if he’s free. He’s traveling the world now, he actually works with you,” Jimin provides the information smoothly, “only he works in the international business column. But surprisingly, the person I hang out the most with is—”
“Jungkook.” 
Standing face-to-face with your old high school sweetheart disarms you, and you’re sorely reminded that just you’re a seventeen-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body. 
Jungkook looks tired, and he rubs his eyes a bit as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You in the flesh, looking purposeful and confident as you hold three bags on each arm, each piece probably costing more than his rent. He’s filled out, what once was lean muscle and minor definition has turned into full muscle mass hidden beneath a large t-shirt and sweatpants that are two sizes too big. His face is still sweet-looking and baby-like, but his hair is overgrown and waving in front of his eyes without a care in the world. 
“Did I mention we’re neighbors?” you can practically hear the wince in Jimin’s voice, probably regretting that he hid that chunk of information from you. 
Jungkook tastes his name on your lips, and it sounds foriegn and strange coming from the both of you. “Good to see you,” he says, voice low. 
You barely formulate a response, replying with an equally nervous “right back at ya” and then you two resume staring at each other. While Jungkook hasn’t seen you in the last ten years, you saw him yesterday. Yesterday, where you started the day all peachy keen and it spiraled downhill shortly after. It’s jarring, knowing that your body doesn’t fit your conscience. 
“Well I uh,” Jungkook lifts his indicator to leave, a large garbage bag, “bye.” 
Jungkook shuffles out of the small hallway, and you get a whiff of his scent. It’s still the same, fabric softener mixed with his own musk. 
“I,” you start off slow, “maybe I should go talk to him?” 
“No,” he warns. “You and Jungkook are completely different people now, he’s just gonna think you’re pitying him if you go up and talk to him out of the blue.”
“But we’ve always been different people.” 
“You really think that?” Jimin shakes his head, “I know what happened at prom was rough but, I really didn’t think much of your relationship with Jungkook before that. It seemed like you were pretty compatible—”
“Up until the point he was kissing Jennie in matching flowers on the balcony like some kind of romance film?” you scoff, crossing your arms, “right. Super compatible.” 
Jimin sighs, as if he’s chastising a teenager. “Prom happened ten years ago, don’t act like it happened yesterday. People change.” 
You frown, because in your mind it did happen yesterday. 
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Sleeping last night was hell. It’s one thing to be completely zonked out of your mind and unsure if you’re in a dream or weird coma, but knowing that you’re going to be stuck here for awhile is painful. Your loft is too big for your tiny body, your mattress cold and empty with just you in it. Without your parents to call and you feeling wholly insecure about your rekindling with Jimin, the only person you can really call is
 Seokjin. 
And you really don’t want a repeat of your first night. 
So you suck it up, spend your waking hours in your office and quickly learning your tasks for work. You don’t even know what time you’re supposed to clock in, but from a sticky note attached to your MacBook it seems that you have a creative meeting at 10AM. You allow yourself two hours of sleep before you get moving.
The one exciting thing about your morning is that your outfit choices are virtually limitless. You feel like Cher in Clueless, all your outfits color-coordinated and organized by season. You pick out a springy Chanel number, a pale pink tweed skirt suit that has you feeling equally parts cute and an independent working woman. You even make time to buy yourself a coffee, because that’s what adults do right? 
Your office is gorgeous. Also located in the upper part of the city, the glass desk and high windows fit right in. You have an ideas board filled with various designs, fabrics and models to choose from. There’s a little frilly notebook straight out of the 2000s, all filled with phone numbers and special contacts all at your disposal. You even have your own cold press coffee machine complete with a mini-fridge. 
“You’re never this early, nervous for the meeting?” 
You squeal, nearly dropping your coffee as you take a tour around your office. You fight the urge to gape and point accusingly at the woman standing at your door.
“Jennie?” 
“In the flesh,” she gives you a cool smirk, holding her arms out for a hug. It really throws you for a loop, and you’re left stricken in your spot as Jennie closes the gap and squeezes the life out of you. Her grey pinstripe pantsuit crumples against your softer fabric. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” 
“Jennie and you are practically besties,” Jimin sounds a little jealous while saying that, forcing you to scroll through your Instagram page to see the countless selfies of you and your high school rival, “I mean, at least that’s what the internet says. Went to college in Europe together and everything.” 
So it’s true. You awkwardly pat Jennie on the back, and she doesn’t seem to mind when she pulls away and tells you to meet upstairs. You mindlessly follow after her to the conference room, wishing a kind good morning to everyone that greets you. 
Once you make it upstairs, you flinch at the loud screech of your voice. “My favorite editor!” someone in a plaid red suit runs up to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. The editor-in-chief Jung Hoseok smiles brightly at you, leading you to a seat at the head of the table right next to him. You’re cosy with the editor-in-chief? This is crazy! 
“G-good morning Mr. Jung,” you stutter, trying to remain cool. 
“Did something happen to you this weekend?” Hoseok jests, pinching your cheek like a long lost sister. “You always call me Hobi.” 
“Oh,” you force a giggle, “you don’t even know how crazy this weekend was.” 
Hoseok simply laughs and gets himself settled for the meeting.
“I’m so jealous,” Jennie sing-songs, a manicured finger trailing over the back of your chair, “only the best of the best can sit next to the big boss.” 
The comment has you bristling. Are you really friends? Giving her a tight smile, she saunters to another corner of the meeting. On your section of the table is your itinerary and iPad, ready for note-taking. 
“One thing that we do at Ego is consistency,” Hoseok pulls up a projection of this year’s editions, all carbon copies of the same cover. “And while that is admirable, I want to put my top editors to the test and come up with the theme for next month’s issue.” 
Hoseok sends you yet another pearly white smile, and due to the sheer closeness you know that secret smile is only reserved for you. That makes you squirm in your seat, already feeling the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 
“Take two days off this week to plan. Work out the days you’ll be out of the office with HR, those days you’ll be working in the city, finding ideas and inspiration for the issue. Remember, think outside the box!” Hoseok does a little fist pump, cutting through the air like his life depends on it. 
The whole lot of the group continues to stare at Hoseok, waiting for his next instructions. Then, the adults begin to panic, similar to a high school class that’s been told they have a pop quiz that’s worth half their grade. You sigh internally, you suppose high school never ends. 
“C’mon,” Hoseok urges, flailing his arms around, “get out there! Make moves, make money!” 
But the only moves you’ve made since 2PM are fleeting trips to the bathroom. 
Obviously you don’t have any memory of your degree or experience, so instead of feeling like an editor you feel more like a teenager playing dress-up. You couldn’t even sneakily ask Jennie for help because she deadpanned: “I’m not sharing any secrets, doll.” It seems that being backhandedly mean is a theme in your relationship, so after that you rolled your eyes and locked your door. Thankfully you packed a pair of sweatpants so you can comfortably lie down on the floor while you spread out your workspace. Magazines littered the hardwood, all sultry and sexy looking models staring back at you with the same half-lidded stare and overdone makeup. 
It makes you cringe, thinking back to the other day when you were jealous of these people. Now that you have this life, thriving and full of beauty, is that the only thing you want to show to your audience? How can they possibly relate to models who make triple their salary? What about the authenticity? The ingenuity? 
And that’s when it hits you. 
Scrambling to your computer, you search up a photographer that you know will be completely and utterly transparent. 
My Time Studios: Capturing the raw moment. 
You know exactly what you want for next month’s issue. 
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Jungkook does not expect to see you through the peephole of his apartment, fiddling with the threads of your clothes and eyes glued to the ground. He mutters a curse under his breath, jamming his fingers between the metal double lock to swing his head out. He doesn’t even bother to open up all the way, just enough to stick his face out. 
“Jungkook, hi!” he still can’t believe you’re around. Jungkook winces at your tone, high and sounding like a teenager. He thought by now you’d be traveling the world, climbing to bigger and better things. Then again, the upper part of the city is certainly an upgrade. He just thought you’d want to be far, far away from him. “I b-brought you McDonalds.” 
You hold up a greasy bag of fast food, and his nose immediately responds to the smell of fresh fries and a quarter pounder (with cheese, of course.) It annoys him that you still know his weakness, but he isn’t going to go that easily. 
“Why are you here?” he asks a little too sharply, hands gripping the doorknob. 
“I wanted to offer you a job,” you get straight to the point, as if you know your time at his doorstep is limited. 
He scoffs, “You? Want to put my photos on Ego? You know my business extends to weddings and the occasional Bar Mitzvah. Why would you want me?” 
You frown, crossing your arms. He looks down at your attire, a nicely fitted suit on top, but the skirt is replaced with grey sweatpants. Comical, really. “I’ve always loved your photos,” you admit to him, “you know that. And they’ve gotten so much better since then.” 
The furrow between Jungkook’s brows softens a fraction, smoothed by the honesty in your voice. You’re right, you always made sure to tell Jungkook how much you loved his other talents. Namely, the photography, and sometimes his singing. He can still remember how easily you slept in his arms watching Sky City for hours, all at the melody of your favorite song. While his teachers and classmates loved to venerate his position on the team and his ability to garner attention, you encouraged him to work on the things that mattered to him the most, even in secret. 
Nevertheless, that was ten years ago. 
“I don’t need your charity,” he spits, “Jimin might be able to be bought by some designer clothes and an eighty dollar steak, but not me.” 
The pain in your gaze is glaringly evident, and you don’t even try to hide that you’re upset as the paper bag falls against your lap. If there’s one thing Jungkook knows he’s good at, is hurting your feelings. 
“You think this is charity?” you whisper, hurt delicately lacing your voice. 
“Are you kidding? Last month you got Xu Minghao to photograph your spread for Ego. He’s photographed the damn Queen of England,” if you notice that he’s babbling about reading your magazine, you don’t show it in your face, “the point is, I don’t understand why you’re trying to come into my life again. I don’t want to get involved in your fancy dinner galas or anyone else from high school. So please, just go back to your picture perfect life.” 
And without another qualm he slams the door in your face, effectively shutting you out. It doesn’t feel as good as he wants it to feel, clearly. He feels even shitter than before. His eyes glaze over to his rickety coffee table, cluttered with bills and credit card payments that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. 
He slugs himself over to his couch, throwing his body over the couch that’s way too short. His legs dangle in mid-air, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunset. The bills can wait a little longer. Seeing you was too draining. 
The nap turns into a full-fledged night’s sleep, and by the time he wakes up the sky is dark and it’s the start of a new day. 12:08, the screen of his iPhone confirms. Feeling even crustier and worse than before, his stomach decides to harden the blow and go straight for the gut. He’s sorely reminded of the food you offered him hours ago. 
Quickly pulling on a large denim jacket, he grabs his keys and heads for the 7-Eleven down the park. Nothing like a frozen pizza to fill the gut, fast and cheap. Despite the fact that it’s dark and late, there're still some stray people in the park. A few homeless, some high school stoners who are meeting in secret, and you are typing away on your MacBook. 
Wait, what? 
You’re sitting on a bench in the park, typing away without a care in the world. Shoving soggy fries that he earlier refused in your mouth, you let a couple stray potatoes hang from your lips as your eyes succumb to the screen. You look positively silly, still in a pink blazer and baggy sweatpants. 
He must have been staring a little too long, because soon enough you turn your head, gasping at his figure. You quickly avert your eyes, but don’t make any move to leave the park. That interests him further. 
Shamelessly, he calls your name. His legs get to you in an instant, towering over your tiny figure. 
“What are you doing here?”
“Uh, I’m waiting for Jimin,” your eyes flicker to your open laptop, “and working.” 
At least one of those reasons is a lie. Last time he checked, Jimin always sleeps over at Yoongi’s house on this day. He knows it’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie, but neither of you make the effort to correct it. 
“And what could you possibly be working on at 12AM?” 
“Finding a photographer,” you hunch over your laptop, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have much time and none of my usual contacts are good enough. This project is
 personal.” 
It makes him want to ask further, he can’t lie and say he isn’t intrigued in the kind of vision you’re going for in your next issue. “But why can’t you work at home?” 
“Don’t wanna go,” you reply casually, “it makes me feel lonely.” 
Lonely? You feel lonely? He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. Back in high school he always encouraged you to feel confident, but not like this. “Hey, it’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to chill in the park at 12AM, but it’s really dumb. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten mugged from all that money you’re carrying around!” he gestures to your fancy clothes and laptop, “and if you feel so lonely, call up one of your rich friends I’m sure they’ll—”
“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you slam your laptop shut, darkening the two of you. “I thought you wanted me to go back to my ‘picture perfect life’, so why do you care?” you get up in his face, standing on the bench so you’re nearly eye-to-eye, “why don’t you pester those kids over there? Tell them to drink their milk and go home,” you scoff, shoving your stuff in your bag. You don’t spare him another glance as you stalk off in the other direction. 
He groans, unable to untangle himself from the mess, “Where are you going?” 
“To a park where you’re not in!” 
Despite the exchange for sweatpants, you’re still wearing shoes not fit for walking. They’re little white pumps, not too tall but not remarkably comfy either. However, that doesn’t deter you from getting the heck out of there, seemingly walking in any possible direction to get away from Jungkook. 
“You’re being ridiculous,” he chastises once his hand clasps around your hand, pulling you around. 
There’s a little resistance, as you try to hide your face to no avail. Jungkook fumbles a little, not thinking you’d be crying. But tiny, shy tears are pooling around your eyes, looking flustered at your display of emotion.
“God,” you mutter to yourself, “I feel like such a kid.” 
That strikes a chord in the twenty-something man. The last time he saw you in the flesh was when you were both kids. Young, unbridled, and stupid. Well, only Jungkook was the stupid one. 
“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook offers, feeling guilty about his roughness. 
You shake your head. “No, I told you I don’t want to.” 
“Can I at least call you a cab? Or a friend so you won’t get lonely?” 
“Jungkook, if I had that option would you think I’d be here right now?” he’s trying, he really is. But you’re equally as miffed about this whole situation and at a loss. The two of you engage in a staring contest. It only takes a few seconds for you to crumble, and he frowns when you shiver in your thin blazer. 
Instantly, he rips off his jacket, pulling it over your body. It’s huge on you, swallowing your body and hopefully containing some of his residual heat. 
And finally, he relents. “If you want, I’ll come over and stay until you fall asleep.” 
“Okay,” your eyes widen in instant agreement, pulling something out of your pocket. “Will you drive?” 
His eyes widen at the shiny, minimalistic car key. Your sudden one-eighty has him second guessing his decision. “You drive a Tesla?” he gapes, taking your key like he’s holding the Hope Diamond. 
You got your license in February. One month ago, and only because the instructor felt pity on you since it was your second time retaking it. The fancy car terrifies you, and you’re sure Jungkook has much more experience driving (over ten years worth.)  
You shrug, “Not very good at driving. Haven’t had much practice.”
“Um, the car drives itself?” 
“It does?” you tilt your head, dazed, “wow, technology is amazing.” 
He shakes his head, putting a hand on your back so you can lead the way. You must be tired, because it seems like your head isn’t entirely there anymore. He takes charge, buckles you in and takes a couple minutes to fumble with the car settings. Nevertheless the drive home is smooth (and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to not squeal in excitement when the Tesla does in fact, drive itself.) 
You lead him inside your loft like a tiny zombie, throwing your shoes to one corner and throwing your jacket on the kitchen table. 
“Must be hungry,” you can’t even form complete sentences, “there’s food in the fridge, Kook. Sorry if it’s not to your taste.” 
Shuffling away to your room, Jungkook is left to gawk at your apartment. The baseboards of your walls are crusted in pretty pearl designs, swirling around the whole expanse. There’s a television that stretches the wall of the little living room, with a sound and video game system he’s only seen in movies. Your tables are meters and meters of granite, and he wonders how the floor of your apartment can hold all this weight. 
But he supposes it’s because there’s nothing much to hold. No pictures line the walls, only vague looking art to fill up blank space. There’s no touch of warmth despite the heating system under the floor that relaxes his toes. For such a big home, he can only imagine how small you must feel in it. 
Your fridge is just as empty, decorated with a couple of sad-looking salads and some protein shakes. He sighs, grabbing two chicken salads and a banana shake and bringing it to your coffee table. It’s a little two quiet for his liking, so he turns on the television real low just to make the room feel a bit fuller. 
Halfway through one salad he realizes he probably should’ve made you eat as well. Even though these salads aren’t remotely filling, they’re much healthier than some soggy fries. A piece of limp lettuce hangs from Jungkook’s mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for soaking up all of your amenities without inviting you. After all, it is your house. Wiping some sauce from his lips he dusts off his pants, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to your room. 
Calling your name, the only reply is the whir of the heater. He only cracks the door a tad, but he sees you slumped against the edge of the bed, bare feet hanging from the end. You barely made it, your clothes strewn across the floor, an oversized t-shirt ruched across your barely covered thighs. Without a thought he quickly scrambles to move you closer to your pillows, and then wraps your body in your plush duvet. You’re out like a light. 
You’re sleeping, so Jungkook should go home. That’s what you two agreed to. He goes back to his late dinner (early breakfast?) mindlessly listening to an infomercial on rare dollar coins. He’ll leave after he eats. 
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He didn’t leave. 
Jungkook awakes to a scream, your shrill voice echoing all the way down the hallway into your living room. It takes a second for him to register the empty white walls and the fact that he’s not in his apartment, but eventually it goes back to the point that you’re in distress. He jolts, scrambling off the couch to run to your bedroom. 
“What is it?” he exhales into your doorframe, socks sliding. 
Your hair is in a disarray, shirt rumpled and face scrunched in pain. You shove your phone in his face. “Since when did Iron Man die!” you cry, genuinely horrified at whatever entertainment article you’re reading. 
He slumps against the wall, running a hand over his dry face. “Since Endgame, obviously. That was literally two years ago. Is that why you woke me up?” 
“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” 
“Have you been living under a rock or something?”
“Or something,” you frown, throwing your phone across your bed, “I guess I should go get ready for work.” 
Jungkook watches as you shamelessly hop off your bed, uncaring that your shirt has ridden up, revealing the full expanse of your thighs and then some. You pull out a pair of sweats from a shopping bag, nicking off the tag to put them on your legs. 
“Do you have work?”  you ask casually. 
“Uh, no,” Jungkook coughs, crossing his arms. It’s been awhile since he’s had a solid gig. Two whole weeks have been spent doing more personal work which was fine, but at the same time his bank account could beg to differ. “I’m off today.” 
“Oh, alright,” you shrug, “do you know where I can buy a good camera?” 
“Why?” 
“Gonna go take pictures,” you snatch your wallet and keys from your bedside, stuffing it in a fanny pack. He watches you curiously as you zip your bag shut, muttering something about how you can’t believe that fanny packs are back in style. Swinging the strap over your back, you brush past him. “You can stay if you want,” you add pointedly, before you slip into the bathroom. 
Jungkook doesn’t understand as to why he’s slipping into sensory overload. The house is a shell of itself and the antithesis of a rainbow. Maybe it’s the fact that he woke up ten minutes ago or how you look completely peaceful and want to leave as soon as you wake up. Or how shocked you were that Iron Man has passed and you’ve completely missed Phase 3. Or that you’re not even thinking about breakfast or not wishing him a farewell, practically throwing him into your apartment like a second home. 
He wobbles back to the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he drapes the fuzzy blankets over his body. He flips through the channels, before finally settling on an old episode of Sky City. 
When you walk out into the living room, you scrunch your face in pain when you make eye contact with Kim Seokjin’s on screen appearance. Oh, how things change. Jungkook knew how much you loved watching Sky City, indulging in the protagonist's attractiveness. 
“Y’know,” Jungkook says over his shoulder, “if you leave me here, I could steal whatever I want.” 
“Go ahead,” you reply flippantly, already slipping on your sneakers. “There’s nothing of value here.” 
What is wrong with you? 
“Wait!” Jungkook throws all his pride at the window, unable to conceal his worry for you. Half your body is out the doorway, and you’re looking at him like he’s grown a second head. His voice takes up the entirety of the room, startling you. “I need to come with you,” he finally settles on, looking serious. “You’re going to buy the wrong camera.” 
“Okay,” you concede immediately, throwing the keys on the couch, “you drive.”
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Jungkook must know something’s wrong with you. 
You don’t know how to act around him. Your heart is hurt and your body is a decade older than it was a week ago and everything in your life and mind is a complete wreck. It still aches to look at him, despite the fact that you want him around, all the time. You wish you could know a little more about your adult life, you feel like a proverbial Bambi sitting in a car worth more than your childhood home. It’s a wobbly, shaky road to adulthood, and you’re not having it. 
Jungkook sleeping over is the last thing you thought would happen last night. You didn’t even think he’d relent to coming to your house, since he was pretty hellbent on not being your photographer. 
But now he’s driving your Tesla again, after you instructed him to park the car where you parked it last time. That way, you can go back to the playground you were in the night before. You have a vision for the issue and it starts there. Fiddling around with the expensive camera Jungkook picked out, you feel his gaze burning into your shoulder. 
“Am I doing something wrong?” you ask archly, “I read the manual and everything. Or are you just being a perfectionist again?” 
“What’s wrong with being a perfectionist?” Jungkook shoots back, putting the car in park. As soon as the car stills in the parking lot, he grabs the camera from your grasp like a petulant child. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t break it. Face it, you’re terrible at technology.” 
“Excuse me! I have a Samsung 25+ and a Tesla!” 
“Yeah? So why did I catch you struggling to use your pay feature on your phone when we grabbed coffee?” 
“It’s new,” you mutter under your breath. Everything is new to you. 
With a growl you snatch back the camera, and Jungkook for once doesn’t act like a baby with a sharing complex and relents. Of course, Jungkook manages to calibrate the camera and figure out the color balance before you could. This only annoys you further, wondering why Jungkook is still sticking around after all this time. 
“Alright,” you step out of the car, slinging the camera around your neck. “Thanks for driving me around, your apartment’s just down the street, right?” You dart your hand out, and Jungkook reluctantly hands over your key beeper. Maybe it’s because he seems to love the car so much, that he has a hard time giving it back. “I’ll see you around.” 
“Wait,” is that his word of the day? Wait wait wait. 
“What is it now, Jungkook?” 
He’s never seen you so full of negative emotions. You’ve been waiting for him to tire of you all day, from your clipped replies and unease ever since you two stepped out of your apartment. 
“Um,” he looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, “are you really going to take pictures? You always took really blurry pictures in high school.” 
The mention of high school has you icy, gripping the matte black digital camera to hold your feelings at bay. “Yes, I’m going to go take pictures because the photographer I wanted so rudely rejected me,” you revel in the way he shrinks, probably regretful already. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline.” 
He continues to follow you, all the way to the park. You make your way to a little garden, and start to take some test photos next to the little daisies that decorate the patch of dirt. You practically feel Jungkook breathing down your neck, feeling antsy everytime you click the shutter. Ignoring him is difficult, especially when he makes little noises of discomfort when you presumably do something wrong. 
“Jungkook, are you going to say something?” you seethe, not caring that the heavy camera strains your neck when it falls against your chest, “or are you just going to make me wait.”
Jungkook’s face is scrunched up, and finally he blurts, “I’m sorry.” 
“Sorry for what?” 
“For saying your life is picture perfect,” he sputters quickly, looking very sweaty. Jungkook always got sweaty when he did things a little too hard. Playing sports, thinking, campaigning on video games. “I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know. I guess I was just upset at myself and I took it out on you.” 
“Well why are you upset at yourself?” 
“I’m upset because I—I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he plops down on the nearest bench, and while you follow him, you don’t let yourself sit next to him. If you do, you know your subconscious will want to wrap your arms around him and comfort him. That would probably be the worst possible action to perform. “I don’t really do the whole photoshoot thing. Like I said, I’m just doing some weddings and parties here and there. I shouldn’t have said those things about Jimin and how you’re only talking to us out of charity. It’s my fault for not considering how complicated your life could be too,” he looks down at the ground, shameful, “so if you still want me, I would really like to photograph for Ego. And I would also really like that camera back.” 
Unable to resist, you reach over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “I forgive you,” you reply numbly, thinking he was going to apologize for something else. You suppose he’s forgotten about that fateful prom night, just like everyone else. “It’s actually not for Ego, at least not yet. My boss is pitting us against each other, the best idea wins the cover theme.” 
“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” his face eventually breaks into a grin when you remove the camera from your body. “Come to daddy, baby,” he cooes, holding the shiny new camera in his hands like a newborn. 
“Gross,” you twitch, although you’re feeling all the more relieved knowing Jungkook will now be taking the visual reins. “You haven’t had a chance to look at the contract made up, but being paid five-hundred okay?” 
“Five-hundred a week?” 
“No, per day,” you correct, “why wouldn’t I pay you just like I pay the others?” 
Jungkook’s dark brows fly to his forehead. He practically chokes on his spit at the way you put Jungkook in high regard. A blush overtakes his visage, proud and pink as he rushes to get away from you. 
“You don’t even know my concept,” you called after him, chasing the midday sun. 
Jungkook is already in position, fitting the lens between two buildings. The afternoon sun looks like an egg yolk, melting between the clouds. “Well then is it?” he asks, bending down on one knee to get the perfect angle. 
“Well, yesterday when I thought of the idea I just wanted to be reminded of how easy being a kid was,” you don’t even know if Jungkook’s listening properly, given the rapid click click clicks of the shutter and Jungkook constantly moving around to get as many shots as possible. “I realized that not everyone can relate to the models or the clothes we advertise on Ego. Why would I want to see people I actually admire? Like, my friend’s older brother. Or Jimin, president of the drama club. Or even Jungkook, captain of the lacrosse team.” 
“So, nostalgia. The 2000s are back in style, I like it,” he replies simply, tilting the camera towards you, “pose for me.” 
“What? Jungkook,” you frown, holding a hand over your face. He doesn’t relent, continuing to snap you in different angles. 
“Oh! That was a nice one,” he turns the camera to reveal the screen of your furrowed brows, hand over your face, “looks super grunge. Totally a throwback look.” 
“Jungkook, I don’t model. I’m just the one who throws the ideas.” 
“Yeah, but. Wouldn’t it be cool if the readers of Ego could see the genius behind the paper and ink?” he gestures vaguely to your outfit, “and you’re wearing Fila. So that’s like, kind of designer?” 
“I don’t know,” you hug yourself, “I’ll think about it, okay? Let’s focus.” 
“Fine,” Jungkook stops buzzing around you, putting the camera down and following you as you walk back to your car. You don’t think you really need anymore park photos, and Jungkook seems to telepathically agree as well. 
“We need to plan some outfits and some backgrounds. I’ve already arranged a meet up tomorrow in front of our old high school with a couple of models. The school is on a grade-wide trip, so we’ll even have access to the track and field. I was also thinking disposable film? We could scan those.” 
“Alright, who are your models?” 
“Oh, you know. Just friends from school. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. Taehyung flew back from Hamburg last night, so he said he’ll come. Jimin, obviously.” 
“Well you only had like, two friends in highschool.” 
“And you,” you clip on with a frown, “so don’t dress like a potato sack tomorrow, okay?” 
“I’m not modeling.” 
“Well, I’m still looking for a celebrity model to tack onto so. Don’t look like a chump.” you stick out your hand, while Jungkook pouts at your outstretched limb. If he feels sore that you called him a chump, he doesn’t comment on it when he clasps his larger hand in yours. “Partners?”
“Partners.” 
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“Why didn’t you tell me your celebrity model was him?” 
“I specifically told you not to dress like a paper bag. Why did you continue to do so!” 
“You didn’t specify that your model was Kim Seokjin!” 
The current conversation is hushed, hissed between large reflective light panels and a parked car that held all your rented equipment. Currently, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin are huddled on the bleachers of your old stomping grounds, laughing at whatever funny video Seokjin has pulled up. They’re all dressed in variants of the same sweatsuit, a combination of Taehyung’s choosing since he’s one of the many color coordinators at Ego. 
But you haven’t started yet, and you would like to get some morning shots in before it gets any warmer. Jungkook is still petulant, pretending to buy time by balancing his tripod. He’s wearing his Birkenstocks, so old they’re definitely the same pair from highschool, and yet another black sweatsuit. 
“Seokjin’s like a big, fat cheeseball,” you assure Jungkook, who’s actually shaking from being in the presence of a celebrity. “No reason to be nervous.”
“That man has literally been part of our Sitcom Sundays for three years,” he gripes, “of course I’m nervous!” 
“Just go to the car. If you want to change I’m sure Taehyung’s brought something that fits you.”
“Well if they see me change they’re gonna see I’m trying too hard,” Jungkook pouts, he actually pouts. 
“I can’t,” you turn around, your Miss Frizzle-esque solar system dress whirling around your waist. The stars twinkle, glittering into Jungkook’s eyes. “Jungkook, do whatever you want. But we need to start in ten! No, five! I’m not paying you to try on Balenciaga and Off-Brand!” 
If Jungkook is shocked by your sudden snippiness or need to get things wrapped up, he doesn’t say anything to it. For once, he’s quiet about his needs and you’re thankful for it. Once he’s gone, you have a chance to breathe. It’s all wholly overwhelming to dive right into the job. Your brain is still in 2011 unfortunately.
“Babe, everything alright?” 
Seokjin appears behind you, having ditched Jimin and Taehyung after he saw you and Jungkook argue. He smooths his hands over your biceps. You’re still unsure over the exact nature of your adult-self’s relationship, but it seems that sans sex you two are relatively close with each other. 
“M’fine,” you mumble tiredly, trying not to stiffen under his hold. You suppose Jimin isn’t going to be the friend you confide into this lifetime. “I’m just nervous. We’re doing all this work and it can potentially go down the drain after this week. What if my idea’s stupid and we’re wasting time? Jennie texted me that her concept is going to be killer and now I’m scared this concept is too aesthetically soft and people don’t care about nostalgia anymore and I feel like simultaneously throwing up and crying—” 
“Whoa whoa, who’s replaced my confident editor and where did she go?” Seokjin decidedly goes with the notion that you’re definitely not fine. He swings his neck back and forth, peering behind the bleachers and over the football field. “My confident editor would never talk bad of herself like this! She commanded a whole crew of fifty within seconds when she did the Kim Taeyeon shoot in Milan! She never cowers under a challenge, the challenge cowers to her!” and in his gallancy you no longer try to shy away, in fact you even giggle at his silly way of comforting you. “And most importantly, she’d never compare herself to a wench like Jennie.” 
Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to swipe the moisture right under your waterline, making sure any traces of your crying are undetectable. “W-wait,” you sputter, “you mean, me and Jennie aren’t actually friends?” 
He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Even now, you’re such a good actress.” 
You let Seokjin continue to hold you as the pieces in your empty mind come together. If Jennie is truly not your friend and you two have been faking it all this time, how serious is it? And if so, are you the competitive type? You know for sure Jennie is, and will she stop at nothing to make sure she gets the spread? 
This fear is combined with an equal amount of sadness. You were a little excited to have a lasting friend from college, but your mother always told you to never believe anything on the internet. You suppose those selfies of you and Jennie on your Instagram are nothing but a facade. 
But at the very least Seokjin’s care for you isn’t fake, and you’re thankful that you have at least one friend in this life. If you didn’t do this time skip, would Seokjin remain your only friend? You try not to think too hard about it, “Thanks, Seokjin. I really appreciate you.” 
“Will you appreciate me tonight then?” Seokjin makes a move to kiss your neck, and the moment is promptly ruined. 
Shoving him away you say firmly, “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip your dick off in front of this whole crew.” 
“I love it when you get feisty,” Seokjin melts, but salutes you like a drill sergeant as he runs back to the men on the bleachers. 
It’s then you feel a presence looming over your shoulder. Tall, dark, and emanating. He’s changed, in favor of some fitted jeans and a plain white shirt, paired with black boots. Jungkook is behind you, glaring over your shoulder at Seokjin. So much for showing off your professionalism. Crap, how much of that did he hear? 
“Jungkook, I–”
“Let’s start,” he mutters gruffly, stepping past you to get to the equipment. 
You slap a hand over your face. It’s going to be a long day. 
However, the hours following are probably one of the brightest hours of your life since you’ve appeared in your future-self’s body. At first Jimin was anxious at your invitation, despite being in the high school plays and being okay at public speaking, he didn’t know he’d have the potential to be a model. A couple test shots and some coaching from Taehyung, Jimin is a natural, his photogenic energy strong enough to compete toe-to-toe with Seokjin. 
You also have to hand it to Taehyung, who has been running back and forth between modeling and choosing outfits for the boys. Jimin and you didn’t run in the same group as Taehyung back in high school, but time changes things and if given the opportunity, you would’ve loved to be friends with him back then. 
By the time you are done for the day and you feel like all the possible shots have all ready been taken, you circle around the school. You previously went inside empty classrooms, posed in the cafeteria, even pretended to reenact your school rendition of RENT in the auditorium. 
Everything is mostly packed up and put into the car by the time the sun is setting, and you just wanted to perfect this one shot. 
The gymnasium looks a lot smaller than it did as a child. As a teenager, you constantly feared getting hit in the face by a stray wiffleball, or throwing up during the pacer test after the 100th lap. But now, it just looks like an old gym. 
“It smells like sweaty balls in there,” Taehyung curses, adjusting the patterned button down by smoothing down his chest. He jabs a finger in the boys locker room, where Jimin comes out with another new outfit. 
“I think the sandwich I left in senior year is still there,” Jimin adds, pulling the collar around his burgundy knitted sweater. 
The back of the gym is decorated in balloons. Overnight you managed to build a balloon ring off of Pinterest, one of your proudest moments as you made Jungkook haul the rainbow colored arc and shove it into the trunk. Seokjin is sitting directly under the arc, decorating a letter corkboard. It’s one of those cork boards all the teachers display in class, often decorated with some witty quote or a basic “Welcome to Mr/Mrs/Miss _____’s Class!” 
Jungkook is setting up the camera on a tripod, wanting to do it the old fashioned way. Aside from the freakout he had in the beginning when he realized he was photographing Kim Seokjin, he’s been quiet and strictly professional throughout the whole ordeal. It’s amazing to see this side of him, as he seamlessly transitions from shoot to shoot knowing exactly what he has in mind for each photograph. His direction is soft but impactful, and the boys have no problems following directions. 
“Okay boys, everyone under the arc!” 
Working like this is a rush you can’t even imagine. In high school the path you were in the process of choosing wasn’t clear cut up until this point, but now you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life. 
Seokjin holds the finished corkboard in the middle, a proud Class of Ego in white block letters. 
Jungkook only gets a few shots in before Seokjin bemoans, letting the corkboard fall in his lap. 
“Guys, this picture’s gonna stink.” 
Jungkook’s appalled, “Excuse me—” 
“Because you two aren’t in it!” Taehyung agrees easily, “c’mon, JK. Put your camera on timer mode and let’s have all of us in it!” 
A blush melts on Jungkook’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “What? No, that’s silly Tae. I really don’t—agh!” 
The three men are in a controlled frenzy, aiming to get their mission done. Seokjin rounds the camera and makes quick work of enabling a timer and a burst shot. Jimin pulls you by the waist, tugging you ungracefully to the center of the arc. Taehyung is doing a pretty good job of hauling your muscle hunk of a photographer, pressing his shoulders across yours. 
And finally, Seokjin hands you the corkboard. “You should be holding it. After all, you’re the brains behind it!” 
At first it feels awkward, squished between new friends and old friends. First loves and last loves. Despite his warm bicep pressing against you, Jungkook is akin to a sheet of cardboard, arm-to-arm and stiff as a board. 
“Alright people, let’s move it!” Seokjin yells unnecessarily loud, the noise echoing throughout the high walls. “Last couple shots here, and we’re not re-doing it because I’m tired as hell! So look alive and pretend to like each other!” 
The first click of the camera stuns all of you, akin to many terrible school photos where the flash disarms you and your face twists. But that click suddenly gets Jungkook into gear, and you feel him slide a hand over your shoulder, squeezing you toward him so you’re pressed against the side of his chest. He still smells like floral fabric softener, and that makes you smile. 
And suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again, surrounded with the people you care for the most. 
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“So, the tabloids are true huh?” Jimin smirks, waving a flimsy fry in your face. 
“T-tabloids?” you sputter, dabbing the ketchup off your cheek. The greasy burger slips off your grip and onto your plate.  Your expression says it all, it’s painfully innocent and genuinely confused as you attempt to swallow the cheese and lettuce as fast as possible. 
The crew sans Seokjin is eating a very late dinner with you at the restaurant of their choice. They put it to a vote, while you desperately wanted some McDonalds everyone else voted for a more high end restaurant. After all, you’re paying. 
“Ah, don’t try playing coy with us,” Taehyung jests, “the office talks.” 
“Well, whatever you’ve heard isn’t true,” you huff, crossing your arms. “At least, not anymore.” 
“What?” Taehyung bugs out, “I thought you loved your no strings attached relationship with Jinnie.” 
“I guess I did,” you frown, deflating against the plush booth, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I liked back then.” 
You resume eating your burger, trying to ignore the worried look Jimin sends you. He reaches over the table to press his thumb to the little 11s in your forehead, a product of stress. “Does your head still hurt?” he asks. 
Jungkook’s chewing slows considerably. He’s been strangely quiet this evening, opting to order a handful of appetizers and gorging on every single edible thing on the table like a glutton. But at Jimin’s question he turns his head to look at you, “Why would your head still hurt?” 
“She hit her head when she went out drinking with Seokjin last week,” Jimin supplies, “messed with her memory.” 
“Chim,” you frown, gently shoving him off you, “I’m fine now. Pretty much caught up. Just reevaluating my life choices, okay?” 
“How could Seokjin let that happen?” Jungkook asks, putting his fork down. 
“He wasn’t even there,” you shake your head, trying to clear Seokjin’s name as fast as possible. After all, this lie is completely fabricated, a blanket to cover the magical properties your true nature being here has. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.” 
He huffs, resuming his meal. “Wasn’t worried,” he disarms, reaching over the table to snatch a mozzarella stick. 
You cover up your disgusted expression by wiping your chin with a soft blue napkin. Jungkook is really out here inhaling the whole table and being a bit of a jerk. 
“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, regarding all of you with a closed-lipped smile stretched so wide you’re worried he’ll break. “This is nice. I can’t imagine a time where I’d be reunited with you three. It’s weird. But a good weird.” 
“Ditto,” Jimin echoes, lifting his glass to clink with Taehyung’s. Throwing an arm over your shoulder he remarks, “could’ve never imagined my ‘ol best friend would’ve wanted to pursue fashion.” 
“What?” you glower, pinching his thigh, “I love fashion! I spent months planning my Clueless Halloween costume and our summers cosplaying!” 
“Right, Cher,” teased Jimin, “that yellow plaid suit that made you look like a bottle of mustard?” 
“You little–” 
Taehyung begins to laugh when you start to tickle Jimin in the sweet spots, causing Jimin to curl his leg around your ankle and pull you onto his lap for a hair pull. It’s all in fun and nothing hurts, but you’re so caught up in it you’re sure people are worried about your well-being. Even Jungkook is laughing, egging Jimin on while Taehyung weakly attempts to pull you away. 
If you could rewrite the last ten years of your life, this moment would define the remake. 
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“Why are we here?” 
“For research purposes.” 
“Are you sure the actual purpose is because you don’t feel like working in the office?” 
“Jungkook,” you groan, tired of his infinite amount of negativity. “This was our senior trip! Of course I want to get a couple shots in before my big presentation.” 
“You’re risking my baby’s life,” Jungkook cradles the digital camera closer to his chest, swaddling it between its felt case. Ever since you purchased the camera, Jungkook has been unable to let it go. This adoption is both equal parts cute and strange, and you’re a little too scared to ask for it back. 
“I promise, no big rides,” you roll your eyes, “your baby will be fine.” 
The local amusement park is a fan-favorite amongst the city-goers, a reprieve from the hustle and a chance for you to spend your copious amounts of money on overpriced sugar and popcorn. The last time you went here was two weeks ago—in your mind. In Jungkook’s mind it was over ten years ago and he probably doesn’t even remember the time spent roaming the artificial floor and the infinite amount of bubbles that seem to eject from the air to add to the whimsical charm. 
Jungkook isn’t even paying attention, citing it as an artist block because he’s going through sensory overload with the amount of stimuli in the crowd. Screaming teenagers wailing under him from a nearby rollercoaster, the smell of sticky caramel apples pumping through the diffuser stands, and the amount of gaudy color that decorates every single logo of the park. 
He plops himself down on a nearby bench while you wait in line to get some food. It’s early in the morning and a weekday, so you figure this is the best time to get some photographs in without any passerbys. You figure Jungkook will get the hang of it once he has some food in his stomach. 
“A funnel cake?” Jungkook is bewildered when you return with the confection in hand, “it’s ten A.M.” 
You raise a brow, knowing how much Jungkook loves sweet foods. The funnel cake especially, he ate at least three when you went to your senior trip, one for every meal. But you’re an adult, or at least posing as one, and you shrug loftily, plucking a hot piece of fried dough from your plate. “Alright then,” you reply, “I’ll just eat the whole thing.” 
Once the cake touches your tongue, you can’t help but make an exaggerated moan in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook squirming like an earthworm next to you, either from the scrumptious smell of funnel cake or the way you’re so enthusiastically eating it. 
“W-wait,” Jungkook’s stomach growls at the perfect moment, “I want some. But I don’t want to get the camera dirty, pass me a napkin.” 
“I can just feed it to you!” you quip innocently, immediately ripping off a piece and shoving it between Jungkook’s pink lips. You feel a little slick in the finger, saliva briefly coating your digits before you pull away. You swallow, feeling a familiar tingle in your tummy and a sickening heat low in your belly. 
You fight back a sigh, wondering if your libido also did a massive growth spurt in your twenty-seven years of age. 
Jungkook is placated at the touch of food, and you take turns feeding yourself and feeding him while more customers trickle in the park. Confectioners sugar dusts Jungkook’s long-sleeved tee, the white color staining the dark fabric. You reach to pat his chest, ignoring the toneness that still remains from high school. 
“Alright, let’s ride,” you declare, pulling Jungkook up once you’re done eating. 
“Do we have to?” 
“What happened to the adrenaline junkie I once knew?” 
“He realized being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t make money and he should stay on the ground.” 
“Alright, Negative Nancy,” your reply has no bite to it, and suddenly you wished you invited Jimin or Seokjin before Jungkook. Jungkook may have the talent, but he certainly doesn’t have the attitude. You don’t even get why he’s still defensive, after all you thought he apologized in the beginning. It’s not like you’re the problem. 
“Gimmie your hand,” your thoughts cut out when Jungkook offers his large hand in front of yours, palm up. 
“Why?”
“C’mon,” he whines, settling for snatching your hand instead. His palms feel larger, rougher as they enclose your smaller hand. “Now hurry up and walk in front of me. I’m gonna take a picture.” 
You already have a feeling as to what this picture is going to look like, so you scrunch your nose. “That is so cheesy.” 
“It’s for the nostalgia factor, now hurry up and pretend we’re on a date.” 
You roll your eyes but relent, jogging a few steps ahead so you can get into character. This pose used to be a popular one, where the sweet boyfriend would be dragged around by the girlfriend’s hand, tugging him to wherever she wanted to go. It’s super cliche but if Jungkook figures it’ll fit your theme, you’ll do it. Eventually you forget that you’re holding his hand, and point ahead to some rides you want to try out. 
“Oh, Jungkook! Remember that one?” you point to a teacup ride, with guests spinning vigorously through their own seat. “Jimin got so sick he fell asleep in the car for an hour!” 
Jungkook doesn’t reply, so you turn around and face him. Click. Jungkook smirks at his little trick, which makes you rip your hand from his and walk further. 
“Hey, hey,” he chuckles, the first smile of the day. Food really does make him peaceful. “The shot looks good, you look good.” 
“Could’ve just asked me to turn around and pose,” you huff. 
“Then it would ruin the fun,” he replies, “now c’mon, let’s ride the teacups. For old time’s sake.” 
Ten minutes later and the both of you are soon regretting that decision. You’re once again slumped on the bench, this time unable to keep your head up so you rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder while he leans on your head. 
“Haven’t rode that since I was a teenager,” Jungkook moans, holding his stomach. “Remind me not to eat so fast before getting on that kind of ride.” 
You mirror his expression, feeling green. “Is this what late-adult life feels like?” 
“Yep,” Jungkook replies, unbeknownst of how shocked you are at how weak your body has become. “You wake up with back pain, pre-arthritis from all the typing you’ve done over the last decade, and a lot of stress. Definitely not the fantasy you’d imagine from your 20s.” 
“You think you’d be less stressed if you kept your lacrosse scholarship?” 
“Nah, I think I saved myself,” Jungkook shakes his head, “before I could be any more awful than I already was.” 
You refuse that notion, sending him a bitter smile. “Well, look at me. I became awful right after high school.” 
“I didn’t mean you—”
“I know,” you hold up a hand to stop him. The two of you follow a red path up the hill, leading to a simple cable car ride. It’s a slow travel ride, made to get from one side of the park to the other with a beautiful view over the lake. “But you see those tabloid articles. They must be true.” 
“I—I didn’t think they were all true,” Jungkook’s lying through his teeth to make you feel better, but you don’t care. “Why do you sound unsure?” 
You shrug, “Probably wasn’t sober for most of my bad decisions,” considering your friendship with Seokjin and his boisterous drinking attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised, “If they weren’t true, I believe Jimin and I would’ve stayed friends. I can’t imagine why I left my home like that. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much because I came back. And I mean, we’re here together doing work,” you gesture between the small space between each other, “I think that counts for something.”  
The two of you walk in silence for a bit, contemplating. The line to the cable car isn’t long but it’s slow, considering the cable only moves a couple meters a second. The take-off area is a risen slab of concrete, and the cars are continuously moving so you have to hop on one car as soon as another guest exits. 
There’s a little bit of space between it, a centimeter gap that could be nerve wracking if there’s no staff around. You think nothing of it as you fiddle on your phone, waiting for the staff member to let you and Jungkook in on the next car. 
Jungkook enters first, taking great care to cradle the camera in one hand so it doesn’t sway against the car. The car swings a little as well, and Jungkook holds out a hand for you to grab. 
Instead you focus on how the once bright glassy pink is sun-ravished, faded and rusting on the metal door flaps. The color is almost pearlescent, vastly different than the vivid color you saw two weeks ago. You almost want to reach out and touch it, wondering where that quality went. 
“Bun, be careful!” 
The tip of your heel nicks on the stepping stone, slipping like butter as you topple forward. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hauling you into the car just as the metal door locks into place. The hard plastic of the camera digs into your chest uncomfortably as you plop on top of Jungkook, between his legs as half his thighs rest against the uncomfortable seat. 
“Were you not watching where you were going?” Jungkook huffs, blowing his bangs over his forehead. 
Instead of an artful answer you blurt, “You, you called me Bun.” 
His eyes widen at your response, and his grip loosens around your body. His eyes dart anywhere but your face, his cheeks ruddied and stained coral as he moves to remove you from his body. “It was a slip of the tongue,” he coughs, turning on his camera and getting shots of the lake. 
You huff in response, sticking to your side of the carriage. “I missed it,” you murmur to the wind, although you make yourself loud enough for him to hear. 
You try to bury your sour expression in your sleeves, just to hide how absolutely childish you feel. You don’t even care that Jungkook is trying to take pictures of you looking out the view, only trying to eradicate the feelings that are still down deep in your blood. Even the twenty-seven year old Jungkook is charming, albeit in a completely different way. 
The grown, mature Jungkook toots to his own horn. He isn’t concerned about a team or an image, and gave it all up to pursue an art he loves. The lacrosse jerseys exchanged for bulky long sleeves, the sport for a camera, and a mask for his true image. 
“Let’s go,” Jungkook takes your hand again when the ride stops, not letting go until you’re on steady ground. You figure he must think you walk like a toddler barely on her first mile. 
Would Jungkook like you even as an adult? With all this money, this power and this confidence you envisioned as a seventeen-year-old, it still doesn’t feel enough for him. In fact, you feel like a sore thumb sticking out, decorated in silly rumors and expensive clothes that separate you far from your roots. 
“Hey,” Jungkook touches your arm, pointing to a basketball carnival game, “remember this one?” 
“Yeah,” forcing a smile, you follow him to the small crowd that starts to form around the basketball game. The baskets are a short distance from the player, but so high up that it’s hard to tell the shape of the hoop. “I tried to tell you that it was completely rigged. From an angle you can see it’s still oval-shaped.” 
“And I told you it didn’t matter if the hoop was an octagon, I’d get you that prize,” he jerks a thumb to the prize booth, where a blue Piplup plush sits proudly with all the other starter Pokemon. “And I did.” 
“It’s still in my room,” you reply proudly, even though Jungkook is acting almost immaturely smug. “I, I mean it’s still in my room in my parent’s house. It’s probably lonely because my parents have been on a cruise for almost two weeks.” 
He raises a brow, eyes drifting to the booth. “Should I win another one to keep your bed in the city warm?” 
“That sounded oddly sexual.” 
“You know what I mean,” and Jungkook’s rolling up his sleeves, handing you the camera. 
“Jungkook,” you whine when he pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket, as if he prepared for this moment, “Jungkook c’mon—I don’t need any stuffed animals. Ugh.” 
You swear that the majority of your day is spent watching Jungkook blow cash on a low-quality stuffed animal with packaging pellets for the inside. Turns out carnival technology has also enhanced over the years, and it takes both your whining and the clerk’s whining to stop Jungkook from blowing his entire wallet to get one basket in. Eventually the staff relents and lets Jungkook take a Piplup keychain instead, glumly handing it over to you. 
“I like this better,” you chirp, clipping the ring onto your car keys, “now I can bring Piplup everywhere.” 
A small, barely there smile appears on Jungkook’s face. 
The rest of the day melts away like that, and before you know it the sun is slipping into the horizon and you’re being dropped off at your apartment. Jungkook even insists to walk you to your door, because your prizes are heavy. (Yes, he went back for the oversized Piplup.) 
It’s all too familiar, the way the walk upstairs is achingly slow, as if the moment is stretching itself down the hallway. How Jungkook looks so prideful holding the fruits of his labor, following you with a tug of your hand because the prize is too big for Jungkook to see straight. 
At the same time it’s different. The way you wobble around the hallway because you’re a little tipsy from wine flights is noticeable, even cute. How easy it is to not feel nervous when you clutch at his hand. How you two look like a seasoned couple, coming home from an all-day date. 
It ends at the front door, and you crack it open so you can slip your prizes through the crack. 
“Thanks, Jungkook,” you hold up the SD card that held all the precious memories of this week. 
This is where you part ways. You’ll spend the rest of the night editing your presentation, while Jungkook promised to go to a bar with his friends. A little part of you hoped you’d be invited, but you knew that would be impractical considering you have work in the morning. 
“Break a leg,” he says, leaning on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, “you’ll do great. You’ve always been meant to do great things.” 
The investment he lays on you is insurmountable, and you feel yourself flush with simultaneous excitement and anxiety. Unknowing how to calm your nerves, you give him a small “thank you” and put your hand on the knob to slip away. 
“Wait—” 
You blink, a deer in the headlights as Jungkook swoops down and kisses you. 
You’ve received kisses—kisses reserved for a twenty-seven year old, before. Seokjin is an eager lover, and you felt it that fateful morning and even during your photoshoot when he tried to be sneaky and pull you away. Fleeting bites, kisses to the neck that are wet and hot.
Jungkook’s kiss does not feel like that. It feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, wrapping yourself in an old afghan and a hot cup of tea. The feeling of hot laundry, fresh front the dryer and smelling of floral softener. It tastes like ten years lost in a void, returning to your senses and lighting you up.
He holds you as if you’ll disappear right in front of him. Large hands cup your face, like a precious thing he never wants to let go. Your hands can do nothing but grapple after his, nails digging into his skin. 
“Good night, Jungkook,” you send him a lovestruck smile, a puppy love face. 
“Good bye, Bun,” he replies simply, jogging down the hallway. 
Being twenty-seven starts to feel a little more like heaven. 
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Jennie used to annoy you in high school, but now she just down right scares you. 
Her presentation is one straight out of a thriller, with red shadow lights and neon green splattered in the dark room. Her models are intense, her designs are beautiful but overwhelmingly chaotic, and the whole affair is rather grotesque. The headline Fashion Suicide glares at you in a morbid scarlet font. 
Hoseok sends her a tight-lipped smile, and presses a button on his desk. “I need my antacids, Krystal,” Hoseok deadpans. 
Nothing betrays Jennie’s wicked expression, in fact her smirk widens at Hoseok’s fear. 
You on the other hand, are cool as a cucumber when you walk up to the front of the conference room. In fact, you barely have to say anything as the presentation presents itself. Jungkook took the liberty of making a video compilation for you, one that they could use in YouTube and Instagram promotions. 
“This, is preserving our youth,” you declare proudly, letting the video play. The music that accompanies it is very coming-of-age, like a yearbook slideshow of all the pictures you took. Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin hold their arms around each other in matching attire, looking like friends for life. There’s even some videos of you and Jungkook at the park, playfully arguing at each other. “I’m tired of seeing people who could care less about my life, who I can’t relate to.” 
“This issue is for the unsung heroes—my best friend’s older sibling, the captain of the football team, and the black sheep with a dream.” 
The video cuts to Jungkook, looking ultra cool at the camera while he’s dictating Seokjin’s moves. It was taken on your phone, and you’re zooming in on Jungkook’s serious face before it breaks into a laugh, eyes crinkling and bunny teeth showing at whatever stupid thing Seokjin said. 
And finally, the video fades into a mock cover. The five of you are beaming at the camera, cheek-to-cheek as you hold up the placard: Ego: Class of Youth. 
Needless to say, the issue is yours. 
You ignore Jennie’s icy stare as you leave the room to negotiate with the creative teams on a set schedule. However, it seems that you can’t get a bit of rest when Jennie waits for you in your office.
“Jennie, get off of my desk,” you frown, watching a coffin-tipped nail flicking against a photograph of you holding hands with Jungkook in the amusement park. It hangs on a corkboard, standing up with all the other ideas that you and Jungkook have spent the last week meticulously planning.The black enamel scratches at your smiling face. You are not having this, not after all your hard work and all the meetings that have just been planned. 
Her feet dangle in the air, kicking back and forth as she sings your name. “You’re still such a child,” she sighs dramatically. “In fact, I think your cute little-wittle idea would suit something more like Highlights or Disney Monthly.”
“You’re just upset I did better than you,” you cross your arms.
Jennie’s nail slices your visage in half. 
“You’re right,” Jennie turns a 180 and gives you a bright, candy-coated smile. “Your idea is so good, it doesn’t suit Ego. In fact, I’m sure the editors at Mono will pay a pretty penny.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Ugh, you are such a fake.” Jennie giggles, “now, did you send this idea to Namjoon yet? Their publishing date is two weeks before ours, so I’m sure they’re getting to work on this whole Throwback Thursday spread.” 
You can’t believe the words coming from Jennie’s mouth. Before all of this, just how awful of a person were you? How could you sabotage your company on the regular, just to get paid a little extra dough for a rival company? It makes you think about what could’ve possibly changed. Had leaving your friends without a care in the world made you into this lost adult, grappling at the seams for attention? In college, did Jennie coerce you into being manipulative and backstabbing, and because without Jimin and needing confidence in a friend, you reluctantly agreed?
The coffee from this morning starts to back up in your throat, but you immediately tamp it down. No, you can’t be pushed around like this. You can’t keep pushing people around. You don’t want a life like this, and if you ever return to your old life, you’ll damn make sure you’ll create a future without Jennie in the picture. 
“I’m not going to send anything to Mono, and I’ve already fessed up to Hoseok,” you lift your nose in the air, voice impeccably clear for someone who’s absolutely bluffing. But Jennie’s face hits the ground, immediately buying your lie. You suppose you did become a good actress after ten years. Maybe Seokjin taught you a few pointers. “So if I were you, I’d swallow your tongue before words get around. I worked it out but don’t be surprised if a pink slip comes your way.” 
Turns out that no matter what, high school never ends. There will always be backstabbers and freaks and geeks. A mean girl that you subconsciously try so hard to appease, a grade that defines your life, and drama up to the neck. 
“He doesn’t like you, y’know,” Jennie whispers, but the words are loud and clear and you know exactly who she’s talking about. “Never had, and never will.” 
“You’re wrong,” you hold your hands, clasping them together to keep them from trembling, “he likes me.” 
So you leave the office, determined to prove yourself. That kiss last night was nothing short of magical, and it took a lot of strength for you to not drive up to Jungkook’s apartment in the morning in the hopes for another one. You pick up a pizza near his place, filling it up with your favorite toppings on one half and his favorites on his. A bottle of peach champagne is nestled between your arms. In the bathroom while waiting for your pizza, you’ve wriggled out of your tight suit and into a blue hoodie and bicycle shorts. Tonight, you’re celebrating. 
You’re vibrating as you’re knocking eagerly on his front door, excited to tell him the news. You hear a rustle from the couch, and some blankets shifting about. He must’ve passed out after going to the bar, how cute. 
But when the door opens, the vision in front of you is far from cute.
A woman, with cat eyes and a slim figure, tilts her head at you. She’s dressed in a large white shirt, transparent enough to show her lacy black bra and panties. Bruises decorate her neck and thighs, like red and purple gems. Her long black hair swishes, slightly frizzy at the bottom. 
“Can I help you?” her voice is sultry and velvety. “Are you looking for JK?” 
It’s obvious as to what transpired. Jungkook dipped after kissing you and fucked another woman. A woman who’s the complete opposite of you. Someone flirty and sexy and willing to give Jungkook what he wants. You don’t know who you should be mad at. 
“Who’s at the door?” Jungkook calls from the inside, and you nearly drop your bottle at the sound of the rasp. They must’ve had a fuckfest if they’re just waking up now.
Your cheeks are burning. Your heart is aching. And the vile that bubbled up from Jennie’s tirade is now resurfacing. From the way your eyes are watering, you must look like a crybaby. 
“Say, JK,” the woman closes the frame tighter around her small head, preventing you from seeing inside and for Jungkook to peer, “do you have any pathetic ex-girlfriends?” 
“No,” comes the muffled reply, “come back to bed, it’s getting cold without you,” the pizza starts to burn uncomfortably against your grip, “why the random question?” 
“Dunno, seems like you’ve had at least one.” 
At that moment, your savior appears in grey jeans and a beige hoodie. Jimin walks up to the floor, clutching a bag of groceries. It’s not hard to put two and two together as he spots you looking incredibly small in front of the strange woman, trying so hard not to break down. 
Your tears finally fall when Jimin reaches you. “Wrong room,” you mutter under your breath, quickly following your old best friend when he shoves you in his apartment. 
No words need to be explained when Jimin leaves the groceries on the coffee table and he’s pulling you onto his lap. You clutch him like a koala, rubbing mascara and blush all over his clothes as you sob. He pats your back and soothes your hiccups by offering you a glass of water. The stages of your meltdowns are pretty cut and dry, even after ten years. He still encourages you to finish the whole glass. He makes sure you have something to eat. He cuts your pizza into little bite sized pieces and feeds you. He doesn’t pressure you to talk until you’re ready, although he has a hunch as to what’s going on. 
And when you talk, he doesn’t expect a firm, “Take me home,” from you. 
“O-okay,” Jimin agrees immediately, pulling you into a sitting position. “Uptown, right? We can call an Uber or something and order from a restaurant.” 
“No,” you reply firmly, “Home-home. I want to go back to my parent’s house.” 
“That’s fine too,” he squeezes your shoulder, accepting the fob you hold out to him, “it’ll take about an hour, but I think the drive will be nice.” 
So you two sneak off into the sunset, clutching twin slices of pizza as you roll away into your Tesla. Jimin is right, ten minutes into the drive and you’re soothed by his smooth driving and the scent of fried cheese and dough. Your friend has been calm all this time, so you figure this is the right time for him to pop off. Again, this is also part of your breakdown routine. 
“Say, does this thing do calls?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the settings on your steering wheel, “Tesla, call Jeon Jungkook.” 
“Jimin,” you say weakly, although the little malicious side of you wants to goad him on. You don’t bother to fight the best friend territorialism, you just watch as his hands clutch at the steering wheel as the speakers ring. 
Jungkook picks up on the second ring, “Hey!” he says brightly, and it makes your chest pang to know how oblivious he is, “how did the presentation go?” 
“Fuck you, Jungkook!” you cover your free hand on your ear at Jimin’s shrill yell, louder than the speakers that carry Jungkook’s voice. “Fuck you for breaking my best friend’s heart twice!” 
The silence is deafening. It’s scary, like you could slash a butter knife right through the tension. 
Jimin continues, “I can understand high school because you were a real doofus, but this! You fucking lead my best friend on, only to fuck another girl right under her nose! She came all the way to your apartment from a long-ass day at work to celebrate and you ruin that day! I thought you’ve grown for the better but turns out nothing has changed since prom night. You’re still the stupid, confused little boy that doesn’t want to admit how they really feel,” you gasp at the blow, watching Jimin’s gritted teeth as he zooms down the freeway on a mission. “Good fucking riddance, Jeon!” 
Jimin punches the “hang up” button. A couple seconds of heavy breathing, and he turns to you with a gentle smile. 
“So, you want to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album?” 
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Your room is lost in time. The Hunger Games novels are stacked on your shelf, looking old and worn. A Glee poster hangs over your four-poster bed, the yellow and red faded and the corners hanging by a thread from the old tape. The sheets are a pale pink, ruffly and definitely not in style anymore. When you sit on it, it creaks uncomfortably. 
You hug yourself, tucking your knees in as Jimin marvels at the room with an equal amount of awe. 
“If you could, would you go back to high school?” Jimin asks, sitting at the edge of your bed. 
With a lazy shrug, you smile at your collection of polaroids that are hanging above your vanity. You’re still hurt, but the pain is no longer rolling in waves. “Maybe,” you reply, “probably would’ve taken you to Europe with me.” 
He chuckles, “Is that the only thing you would change?” 
“If I knew what I knew now?” you tilt your head, “I don’t know.” 
Jimin gets off your bed, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I’m gonna raid the kitchen and see if we can make something for dinner, yeah? Since your parents are on vacation and your fridge is probably empty, don’t  judge me if there’s only Totino’s pizza rolls and nuggets in the freezer.” 
When Jimin leaves your room, you quietly close the door and lock it. You lean against the cracked wooden door, falling onto the carpet and letting the tears fall. Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? Evading pain and working too hard and trying everyday to stay afloat? Is adult life always going to be this difficult?  
These past two weeks have been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Major highs and major lows, and after today you thought you reached the end of the ride. However, it’s looking like the ride has no destination in mind, rolling in waves and finding a new hill or loop to catch you off-guard. 
“Are you kidding—how did you know we were here?” Another corkscrew. 
“You’re a turtle on the road, Jimin. Now move out of the way.” 
Jungkook’s voice startles you, and you tense when you see the gold door knob jiggle. Of course as strong as Jimin is, he’s no match for Jungkook. You hear Jimin grumble to curse Jungkook out, and the sound of him stomping down the stairs. 
“Hey, open up. Please,” Jungkook’s voice is weak and strained, and you only hug yourself tighter as the knocks continue. “Or, don’t. It seems like you can listen to me perfectly from here. I can hear your breathing.” 
You don’t say a peep, preferring to let everything fizzle out. Hopefully Jungkook will give up, say a pathetic sorry and be on his merry way. You don’t know why he’s followed you all the way over here, why would he bother coming when the damage is already done. 
There’s a slide of fabric across wood, and you can feel the door shake against your back as Jungkook leans on his side out in the hallway. 
“Back in high school, Jennie proposed that I date you to get back at you for stealing Jennie’s sewing sample and getting the higher grade,” you close your eyes, letting the story unravel. “She wanted to build you up before breaking you down, and back then I was vulnerable and thrived on attention, so I thought nothing of it.” 
You hear a breathy exhale from his side, as if it pains him to continue, “But obviously, it wasn’t true and I only realized it until I was way too deep. I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you. We were so wrapped up in this relationship I even convinced myself it was real, until Jennie said she’d crush you at prom night.
“I should’ve tried harder to convince us not to go. I should’ve told Jennie to fuck off. I should’ve come clean. I should’ve done something,” his fist bangs against your door, the vibrations of the impact thrumming in your back, “seeing you so beautiful in that dress all heartbroken because I didn’t act sooner. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Hearing him pour his heart out is like watching your memories in his shoes. The pieces find homes and paint a picture left unfinished. 
“And then when you showed up at my doorstep, I was so angry. I knew you felt it. But I wasn’t upset at you, I was upset at myself. I felt so fucking guilty. I hated how easy it was for you to let me back into your life. I hated how easy it was to fall for you all over again. I knew how much I didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it to me and I was too selfish to refuse. I had so much fun, the most fun I’ve had in awhile. 
“I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t intend for it to I just, I couldn’t help myself. And then I was so scared that I turned away and made the second biggest regret to date.
“But it proves that we’re not meant to be together. I don’t deserve you,” the last part is hushed, a nail in the coffin, “we can’t turn back the time, but if I could I would change it all. I would be by your side and make your world even better than it is right now. I’m sorry it’s too late.” 
You clutch your mouth, suppressing the cries that muffle through the door. You hear Jungkook get up from your old carpet, turn the other way and head downstairs. 
Your first love just closed the chapter for you. His words show how much he cared for you, but didn’t know how to express it. How immature he was, how he realized everything too late. And now, he wants to set you free. Even if it is a good thing, it still tears you to shreds. 
Moving to your vanity, you pull out the chair and lean your head on the table, eyes poking through your hair. You look awful. The skin under your waterline is puffy and your eyes are red and bloodshot. Your forearms feel greasy, and you lift them up to reveal glitter painting the entirety of your skin. Your eyes dart to the open glitter, the package that Jimin gifted to you that fateful prom night. The compact is broken in half and left on the table, probably a product of your younger cousins fiddling through your old room. 
Ignoring the sticky feeling, you let yourself continue to cry. You feel like you’re stuck in the bathroom of the prom venue, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out and go. 
But you want nothing more than to go back to that moment. As amazing as your twenty-seven year old life is, you’re not ready for it. You don’t want a life without Jungkook, or a life having to constantly catch up and mend your relationship with Jimin. You don’t want to be the backstabbing bitch that tips off other magazines, or the two-faced woman who messes around with others for the sake of pleasure.
You long to go back. You long to live and grow. To be seventeen and have time to grow in-between. 
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When you lift your head from your vanity, you’re ten years younger.
You scream. 
Your parents dash to your room with a kitchen knife and a confused face. With a wary smile and a teary gaze you say that it’s only a pimple. Your mother giggles and drops the knife, hugging you and helping you conceal the invisible mark. The hug is so warm and so missed that you nearly sigh in content. You’ve missed them. 
It’s a little strange to think well beyond your years, your brain still reeling from the trip you’ve just had. Your hands smooth over your body, the previous curves and maturity hidden away in your skin. That’s okay, you don’t mind waiting anymore. There’s much more important things at hand. 
If Jungkook isn’t going to realize his mistakes until it’s too late, you have to speed up the process. 
Stealing your parent’s keys and hopping in your Accord, you drive off to Jungkook’s. Hair and makeup not done, and still in your plain shirt and jeans. An hour from now, Jungkook will text you saying his car is down and he’ll meet you at the venue. 
It’s still rush hour, so he doesn’t notice when you park a few houses down. He’s sitting on his front porch, looking out the road. There’s really nothing in front of him, he’s just staring aimlessly, probably nervous about what’s about to go down tonight. You suppress a sigh, engraving the vision to memory. He looks great in his fitted black suit and tie, a little silver pocket square on the breast to match your dress. 
He gets up quickly when he sees you, as if caught in the act. Staring at your plain clothes he asks, “Bun, why aren’t you dressed? Prom’s soon—”
“Jungkook, I want to break up.” 
You see it in his eyes. Vulnerability. No longer do you feel insecure, the future told you that Jungkook genuinely did care for you back then. Or in this case, right now. His usual cheery expression crumples at your feet, and his hands fall at his sides. It feels a little unfair, knowing that you have experience under your belt, and Jungkook’s experiencing these feelings for the first time, unprepared. 
“What?” he wilts, “why?” 
“I know about Jennie’s plan,” you say instantly, unfazed. You give him a tight-lipped smile when realization hits his face. “So I know this whole relationship is orchestrated. The sewing sample fiasco is wrong, obviously. But I’m not going to get mad at you, I know she played you as much as she played me,” you clasp the straps of your purse, stopping you from fidgeting, “we graduate in a few months anyway. We don’t have to see or talk about this ever again. You should go enjoy your prom night with your other friends.” 
The present-day Jungkook is still young and confused. He’s at a loss, looking like he’s on sensory overload as he absorbs all the information. You see his eyes flicker to where your Accord is parked, your prom dress hanging on one of the arm pulls. You never even pulled it out of the bag. 
“Here,” you pull his corsage from your purse, placing the white rose atop the porch. If you try to put it on him, you fear you may never leave. With a determined huff, you turn around in the direction of your car.
“Where are you going?” he asks, clutching the railing of his porch, “what about prom?” 
“I have other plans,” you shrug over your shoulder, “have a good night.” 
You don’t look back, although you feel Jungkook’s stare burning in your head. You take great care in going into drive and punching in a new destination in your clunky GPS. This time you have to do things one at a time, once you get your Tesla ten years from now, you’re sure this process will be much easier. 
Jimin’s family comes out of the airport, looking impeccable as always. Ten years younger, with puffy cherub cheeks and bright eyes. To your surprise (but also all things considered, it’s Jimin), your best friend comes out in a three-piece suit. It’s burgundy, and suits his dark hair well. He places his luggage into your car, hugs his family good-bye and waits for them to depart in their cab. 
“You are all dressed up, and for what,” you chuckle, driving out of the airport.
“Well, when you sent that voicemail that you’d be waiting for me, I changed in the bathroom,” Jimin quips, already fiddling with your radio to play some poppy overplayed music, “but why aren’t you dressed? I thought we were going to be fashionably late to prom. Spill.”
“Hm, let’s talk about it in the morning. I wanna enjoy my prom night,” and you reach over to ruffle Jimin’s soft black strands, “y’know, you’d look really sexy as a blond.” 
He pulls down your mirror, positioning it over his face. Pursing his plush lips, he tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe when I’m older,” he grins at his reflection, “so if we’re not going to prom, let’s go get pizza.” 
So the two of you get pizza. But not before you take your prom pictures. Your parents meet you at the park with their old digital camera, ready for your impromptu photoshoot. Jimin uses an old tarp to cover the car up while you change in the car, shimmying in your sparkly silver tulle dress. Your hair is held up and away from your face, looking clean enough to be presentable as you pose for the camera. The two of you pick yellow dandelions from the grass, matching flowers as last minute dates. Your parents coo and are happy for you, knowing that even if you don’t attend the actual dance, the pictures will last forever and you’ll smile at them for years. 
Eventually you tell Jimin about Jungkook and the whole fiasco (sans the ten year mental time jump.) The reaction is expected, Jimin says he wants to fuck Jungkook up. Surprisingly for him, he doesn’t have to do much to console you. In fact, you sip coolly from your smoothie and say Jungkook will probably let Jimin get a punch in even though Jungkook can bench press his tiny body in half. But you tell him you’re okay, and all you want to do is go home and binge watch. 
Jimin carries the pie in his lap while you pull up your driveway. The smell of toasty cheese and fresh dough fill your car. 
“I want to watch Sky City,” Jimin sing-songs, “Kim Seokjin is God’s gift!” 
You crinkle your nose, “He’s alright.” 
“What! You thought he was so hot like, last week.” 
“Things change.” 
Jimin makes it to your room first, saying he’ll take care of setting things up. He’ll probably steal all the available cushions and make a fort for himself while he puts a picnic blanket on the floor in front of your television. You can imagine him hogging all your stuffed animals, placing it on his side of the carpet while he rifles through your drawers so he can change out of his suit. 
Your parents tell you to take out the trash before you have fun tonight. Careful not to get your dress dirty, you hold it away from your body as you waddle out the front door. You make it two steps into the driveway before the soggy trash bag is whisked from your hands.
“I got it,” Jungkook says quietly, and it takes little to no effort for him to haul the large bag into the waiting trash can. His shoulders are slumped under his white button-up, his suit jacket probably stuffed somewhere in the back of the car. 
“Jungkook,” you reply, dumbfounded, “it’s only eight, prom isn’t even over yet.” 
“I know
 but then I realized you weren’t gonna get your money’s worth if you didn’t go. I asked the waitress if she could get me a doggie bag for my date and,” he holds up a stapled bag, presumably the dinner that was supposed to be served, “it’s your favorite.” 
“Thank you,” you give him a small, grateful smile as you accept the bag. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 
He bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his dress pockets. “A-and you told me before you left that I should go spend prom night with my friends,” he ruffles his hair, blown out of the pomade and falling into his eyes, “and then I realized that you were right. Jennie and all those people out there aren’t really my friends. They like my rep and they like my attention, but they don’t like me.” 
You shake your head, “Jungkook, you’re very likable. Jennie and her group are just one bad bunch.” 
“But I don’t wanna be liked by my rep. I wanna be liked for the things I love,” he steps a hesitant step towards you, and he relaxes when he sees that you don’t recoil, “I haven’t told anyone this. But I want to drop that sports scholarship. I applied to an art school, and I got in.” 
Suppressing a grin with a bite of your lips, you cheer silently in your head. Things are changing. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkook. Congrats.” 
“And I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I did. Jennie may have manipulated me but I definitely was a big part of it,” Jungkook pulls the words out of the sky, finally having enough time to formulate an apology, “but please don’t doubt for a second that my feelings are fake. I really like you, and I wish we got to know each other under better circumstances.”
“I wish we could’ve,” you echo sadly. “But our futures—” 
“I don’t want to lose you.” 
“I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you.”
You shake your head, frowning at his kicked puppy expression. “I’m considering a fashion school in Europe,” you reach for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it. Letting him know that everything’s going to be okay. “You and Jimin can visit me during the breaks, Europe has some great spots to photograph.” 
Something in Jungkook’s gaze tells you that it’s not enough for him. He wants to be selfish and hold onto you tighter, but you know that’s not good for the both of you right now. “That’d be nice,” he says vaguely, giving you a pained smile. 
Jungkook rubs his thumb over your hand, relishing in the softness of your skin. “You look really pretty,” he says, looking forlornly over the dress. He can only imagine how ethereal you’d look under the fairy lights that decorated the venue, “I wish we could’ve had one dance.” 
You shrug, “The night’s still young,” you gesture to the space in the driveway, and the lights that overhead the garage. 
The slow Taylor Swift music that plays from his pocket is muffled, but it doesn’t deter either of you as he places his hands on your waist and you wrap his around his neck. You’re wearing your bunny house slippers and Jungkook’s neck is moist from his nervous sweats, but you know that this memory will be engraved in your brain for years to come. 
It feels good to know that from now on, you don’t have to be so concerned about the future now that you’ve had a taste of it. All you want now is to take it one day at a time. At this moment the, the only thing you want to do is focus on how you’re going to hold onto Jungkook for the last time. At least for now, who knows what will happen in the future. 
“I really want to kiss you, Bun,” he leans in, foreheads touching, “but I don’t deserve it.” 
“You’re right,” you tease, “you don’t.” 
He frowns playfully, “Ouch. But fair.” 
Yet you figure you’ve made enough headway these past few weeks, and you deserve to be a little selfish. One last kiss, you think to yourself. Your fingers flatten against the pressed material of his collar, meeting in the middle to clutch Jungkook’s slim black tie. Jungkook bites his lip, looking down at you for permission. With the tiniest of nods, you get on your tippy toe toes you lean forward and you can smell the apple cider lingering on his lips—
“Ohmygod—are you broken up or not!” both of you whip your heads up to see Jimin hanging over your open window, looking absolutely bored. His arms dangle over your sill, wearing a frayed high school jumper. “Either tell him to get lost or invite him over to watch television because I’m hungry!” 
You pull away from him fully, squeezing his biceps. “Want pizza?” 
He shakes his head, “I think it’s a trap. Jimin’s waiting for me to come up so he can rip my head off,” he gives a tentative wave to the second floor, but Jimin just scoffs and goes back inside, “but I’ll see you Monday.” 
“Okay. Good night, Kook.” 
“Good night, Bun.” 
Your heart pinches a little as you watch him drive away. Before, you knew what the end game was between you two. It didn’t end pretty. Now, you’re not so sure. At the very least, it isn’t ending on a sour note. 
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Some time later.
“Your majesty,” you give her a practiced smile, taking careful measures not to brush the lady’s shoulders too hard in the fear she’ll whittle away, “emerald is an impeccable color on you.” 
The Queen of England (the McDuckin' Queen of England!) just laughs at you and waves you off. You can’t believe you’re photographing a real queen. This is like the childhood equivalent of meeting Malibu Barbie. You thank every single choice and mistake you’ve made in your entire life that has brought you up to this impeccable moment. She’s a vision, you could cry. In fact, you’ll cry later in the comfort of your hotel room. “Do you think the photographer will take long?” she asks, frowning, “I have drinks with my friends in an hour.” 
You smirk, pleased to know she’s still kicking it in her golden years. “Yeah, just so long as my husband doesn’t get distracted. Fifteen minutes, tops.” 
“I’m not distracted,” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from his tripod. He gives up on trying to stabilize the camera, instead preferring to go freehand for this one. He gives you an incredulous look, hands on his hips, “I have two queens in my viewfinder and I only got room for one. Get out of the shot, Bun.” 
With a playful roll of your eyes, you step away from the lady of the hour to let Jungkook do his thing. He’s right in his element, blurting choreographed poses and telling the lighting people to move at his beck and call to get the perfect angle. You stand a distance behind him, letting him take control. 
“I’m so hungry,” your whisper is low enough to blend between the jazz music, but loud enough for Jungkook’s ears to listen in, “please tell me you’re almost done.” 
“Oui, oui.” 
“Wrong language, Kook. Please don’t offend anyone,” and discreetly, you take one step closer in your Tory Burch flats, “did you get any candids of me and the Queen?” 
“Duh, Bun,” you can’t see his face but you know he’s grinning, “Jimin will faint.” 
"Oh, yes! Thank you, I love you," you gush, reaching over to discreetly pinch his butt. 
He shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to give you a brief smirk, "Show me how thankful you are tonight." 
So silly, you think. It's amazing how well you work together as two separate entities of a photoshoot yet share a brain cell in the presence of each other. In another world, Jungkook said if given the chance, he'd be by your side and make your world a better place. 
Ten years later, it's exactly that and more. 
3K notes · View notes
lucy-sky · 3 years ago
Text
The Break of Dawn (Leo Barnes x f!Reader)
You work in a small diner not far from the bus station and try to get over a tragic event that happened to you three years ago. Leo Barnes is one of the steady customers, and at some point you realize there's mutual attraction between the two of you. There's no time for romance though - only one night left before the annual Purge, and Leo has an important job to keep Senator Roan safe as it's the only chance to finally put an end to the Purge.
Words: 3 656
Warnings: Sexual content (not super detailed, I would rate this story as Mature rather than Explicit, but still they f*ck), a bit of angst (trigger warning: loss), but Leo is a caring and protective guy who’s ready to hold you
A/N: My first time writing Leo Barnes or any Frank Grillo character, so please don't be mean :))
Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @skvatnavle​, @lunamoon-87​
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“There he is.”
Stella pokes you with her elbow.
“What?”
“Your tough guy. He’s here,” she nods to the corner of the diner and you don’t even need to follow her gesture to know that Leo Barnes is sitting there, his usual spot. He’s a bit early today, and it’s understandable - you too find it harder to sleep well as the Purge is getting closer.
“He’s not my tough guy, Stells,” you roll your eyes.
“Oh yeah? Tell it to someone else,” she snorts. “So far I’m just wondering how long you’re gonna keep ignoring that sexual tension
”
“Stella, please.”
“What? Honestly, I don’t know why he’s being such a gentleman
 But just FYI, y/n
 You know it’s not the 19th century and you actually can make the first move?”
“Even if I wanted to, it’s not the right time,” you shrug. “You know he’s doing an important job. He’s got plenty of stuff to think about and it’s definitely not romance.”
“Who’s talking about romance, sis?” Stella laughs. “You’re both so goddamn tense, you need to blow off some steam. No, seriously. You need to get laid. He needs to get laid. It’s just way too obvious!”
“Oh dear god, just please shut up
” you groan.
“Fine,” she gives you a wicked smirk. “If you don’t want him, then I’m bringing his order.”
You chuckle at this.
“Don’t you dare.”
  To be completely honest, you can’t deny that Stella is partly right. There is something between you and this grumpy silent man in the corner. But what exactly? You can’t really put it into words, it’s not just the attraction, or sexual tension as Stella says. You do find him handsome though, you admit that. A couple of times when he was wearing a t-shirt, you caught yourself staring at his muscular arms. Yes, guilty. And still
 There’s more than that. You’d call it some sort of mutual understanding.
Leo Barnes works for Senator Roan. In the past, he used to be a cop, now he is the head of security for her. You learnt that one night when he was here, having his usual late dinner. The TV was on, evening news, something about the election of course. And suddenly you noticed him there, standing behind Roan’s back with another guy in a formal dark suit. You blinked, stared at the screen, then looked back at him. He caught your glance.
“Is that
 you?” you blurted, realizing too late that you said it out loud. But he smiled, and in his smile there was no anger or annoyance.
“Apparently so,” he replied with a soft chuckle and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “How do I look?”
You started talking ever since then. Barnes usually came to the diner twice - in the morning he just had a mug of black coffee, and in the evening he ordered something to eat. Mornings were often crowded as many people passed the diner before heading to work in the city, so you were busy. But the evenings were mostly quiet. 
You often stayed at work late, covering Stella who had to run to her kids or another date. You didn’t mind that since work was always your way to escape. Nobody was waiting for you at home anyways. Somehow, Leo Barnes started to keep you company. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were never into heartfelt conversations with the clients here, but something just clicked. Especially after you learnt about his job and it became clear that your views on the Purge are the same.
Many people hate The Purge, as well as many people support it. Some people hate it because they’re scared for their loved ones, their business (small shop owners who don’t have enough money to afford the Purge insurance often suffer), or they hate it just because they’re against violence in general. And the others
 They have more personal reasons. You’re one of them. And somehow, even if you don’t know for sure, you just feel like Leo Barnes has personal reasons as well. He never really told you, and you don’t dare to ask because you know well enough how the memories can hurt. You didn’t tell him either. But still, you don’t know how exactly it worked, you just looked at each other and saw it. It’s like an unspoken secret between the two of you. The details don’t matter anyway. Your stories are in the past and you can’t change it, but what you can change is the future. If Senator Charlene Roan wins the election - the Purge will finally end. You can help with your vote, and Leo
 Leo is determined to do anything to help her survive this year. Just this year, and hopefully no one would ever have to survive this nightmare again. You both want it more than anything else.
  “Hey.”
You smile at Leo as you place a mug of coffee and a plate on the table in front of him.
“Hey
” he looks confused when he sees the food. Nothing really special: eggs, bacon, some beans and a toast. “What’s that? I... only asked for the usual
”
“Just thought you might need some extra fuel,” you shug. “Only one night left before the Purge, so
 you must have a lot of work to do.”
“Yeah, you’re right
 I actually do,” he gives you a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” you nod and turn to leave, but Leo suddenly touches your arm and you freeze.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?” you face him again.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yes
 Why are you asking?..” you give him a puzzled look.
“Well uh
 To be honest I’d be happier if you took a day off
 You know, just to make sure you’re safe
”
You feel the heat on your cheeks. Does
 does he worry about you?.. The realization makes your heart shrink for a second. Apparently he’s not just someone who understands, he’s someone who cares. You already forgot what it feels like when someone really cares. Well, of course there are your parents, but they’re far away
 And Leo, he’s right here.
“It’s okay,” you say, trying not to look too baffled. “Tomorrow we’re closing the diner earlier, right after lunchtime, so I’ll be home long before the Purge begins. There’s no need to worry, really.”
“Good,” Barnes nods. “I just
 don’t think I’ll be able to come over and check on you tomorrow, so I just
” he stutters as if trying to figure out something to say. 
“I just want you to be careful, okay?” he finally utters, and to your surprise his hand reaches yours, squeezing it lightly. “Just be careful, yeah?”
“Yeah, I... Of course I will,” you try to smile reassuringly. “I promise.”
  *
There’s about five minutes left before closing hour when Leo appears. As usual, you’re still here, helping Mary, the chief and the owner’s wife with all the cleaning up after the working day. While she’s in the kitchen, you wipe the tables, TV-set is murmuring something in the corner. The election, the purge
 Always the same.
“You’re closed?” he asks, meeting your gaze. “Sorry, I
 Didn’t realize it’s that late already
”
“We’re about to close, but it’s fine, come in!” you assure smiling at him maybe a bit more brightly than you wanted to show. “We’ll get you something to eat, right, Mary?” 
“Sure thing,” she replies from the kitchen door. You weren’t the only one who saw Barnes on TV. Since then, he became an always welcome guest as the diner owners supported Roan as well. Otherwise, to be honest you don’t think you could possibly be able to work for them.
You put a plate with food in front Leo as he takes a seat at the counter. While he’s eating silently, you wipe the coffee mugs and place them carefully on the shelf. The TV keeps talking. Something about the bloomimg economy and international murder tourists who keep coming to the US to take part in the annual Purge. You glance at the screen, see their gut-wrenchingly excited faces.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath and shake your head. “Fucking insane.”
“True,” you nearly jump at his words, as you didn’t realize Leo heard you. “I knew people who killed someone on Purge night for
 different reasons. But those who kill just because they enjoy it, for fun or sport or whatever you call it - those are the most dangerous.”
“They’re just psychopaths. People like that should be kept in mental hospitals or something. But they just walk around as if nothing’s wrong with them. And the new founding fathers keep telling them how proud they are of them
”
“Roan’s gonna make it stop,” Mary joins the conversation. “This lady’s got some balls, am I right, sir?”
“Yes ma’am,” Barnes chuckles. “She absolutely got them.”
  You leave the diner together with Leo. Mary chose to stay inside, waiting for her husband to come pick her up in a few minutes. The night is a bit chilly; you’re shivering, not sure if it’s the cold or the fact that you’re alone with him for the first time.
“Where’s your car?” he asks.
“Oh um
 It’s in the service actually. So I’m going to the bus station right over there,” you point. Barnes frowns.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Stella promised to give me a ride home. Leo
 I’ll be okay. It’s not the first Purge night in my life, you know.”
“Right,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, since I’m here I can drive you home.”
“You
 sure it’s okay?” your voice betrays you a little. “I mean you must be tired
”
“I’m okay,” he assures, then nods at his car. “Come on. I insist.”
“Okay,” you hear yourself saying.
  *
You’re mostly silent on the way. You feel a bit tense, but also kinda
 weirdly excited to be in this car, next to him. Damn. Is Stella right, and you’re actually into him? Definitely so. But after all these years you almost completely forgot how it feels - to be into someone or how the relationships work. As if you’re a teenager again. Leo Barnes is the first man who actually made you think of something close to romantic longing since
 That night.
“It’s here?” he asks as you reach your house. You nod, and he pulls over. You wait for him to say something, to tell you goodnight maybe, but he doesn’t. Without the sound of the car engine, the silence between you becomes even more awkward. You open your mouth to say goodbye to him, but instead different words suddenly come out.
“Leo, I
” 
He looks at you intently. You stare down at your knees.
“Yeah?”
“I just
 The fact that you worry about me - it’s very nice of you, really. And
 I just wanted you to know that I worry about you too. I worry about you a lot actually
”
“Y/n
” his voice is quiet as he brings his hand to your face, gently urging you to look up at him. His eyes look darker than usual in the dim light of the street lamp nearby. You think if it’s possible to drown in someone’s eyes you’d already be gone.
“I’ll be fine, okay?” he says softly. “It’s gonna be a tough night for sure, but I’ll be fine, I have to be fine. You gotta trust me on this. You trust me?”
“Yes,” you barely whisper, unable to take your eyes from his, and when the tension becomes almost unbearable, his lips finally crush on yours.
You both expected and didn’t expect it, didn’t dare to admit even to yourself how much you really wanted it. Your breath hitches somewhere in your throat as you kiss him back eagerly, forgetting about everything and everyone for this moment that lasts so long and so painfully short at once. You’re both panting as your lips part, foreheads pressed together. 
“I
 I think I should go,” you mumble as a rush of panic suddenly overwhelms you.
“Yeah
 Yeah
” he nods. “You should get some rest.”
“You too.”
You squeeze his hand for a second. Gosh, you didn’t even realize your hand was on his all this time. 
“Good night,” you finally murmur, bracing yourself to get out of the car. You feel like something else needs to be said, but can’t really figure out what.
  *
You enter the house and just lean against the door, heart hammering wildly inside your chest. You close your eyes and try to catch your breath. What the hell just happened? And why are you reacting like that? There’s nothing wrong about this kiss. You’re two single adults
 Well, probably single. Leo doesn’t wear a ring, so
 Damn it, you really got out of practice when it comes to relationships.
A knock on the door made your eyes snap open. As if in a daze, you slowly turn and reach the door handle, already knowing who you’re going to see.
Leo doesn’t say anything. And you can’t read the expression in his eyes, or you simply don’t have time for it, because the next moment he steps inside, his hands cup your cheeks and he kisses you with such longing and desperation it nearly kicks the breath out of your lungs. You don’t know what you’re doing any more, but your fingers are already in his dark hair, scratching the nape of his neck while his lips and tongue keep attacking your mouth. It feels like shockwaves running through your body, and for the first time in years you feel just so alive. All this time your feelings, passions and emotions were asleep, everything around you seemed pale and lifeless as if someone turned down the contrast, but something changed. Not right now, not in the snap of a finger, of course; it happened gradually. Something kept changing deep within you since the very first time your eyes met, and now - you’re finally ready to feel something. To let him in.
You don't think about it though. Or about anything else, to be honest. All you can focus on is what his lips are doing to you, how hot his breath is and how weirdly nice his stubble feels against your skin. Leo’s coat falls on the floor. His big hands seize your waist as he lifts you up, causing you to grip onto his broad shoulders. Pressing you against the nearest wall, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, the kisses are sloppy, open-mouthed, and you can't suppress a soft moan. He's big and strong, you feel small underneath him, but you like it. 
You can’t even remember clearly how you finally reached the bedroom, frantically helping each other to get rid of the clothes. When you tumble down and he hovers over you, the skin to skin contact is overwhelming. He brushes your hair away from your flushed face, kisses you with sudden tenderness. The look in his hazel eyes is warm yet still full of passion as you cup his cheek and he presses his lips to your palm. An affectionate gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, but you both are too impatient to be soft right now. So he leans in, kissing you harder this time, grunting against your mouth when you pull him closer, craving as much of him as possible. You can feel him twitching against your lower belly as you wrap your legs around him, eager to get more pressure. He’s not even inside you yet, but it already feels so good you can’t help bucking your hips, earning a low groan from him at the friction. His lips trail along your jawline, down to the side of your neck, where he kisses and nibbles, and you just know there’s gonna be marks tomorrow, but damn, you can’t care less.
When he finally enters you and starts moving, you’re almost delirious. Clinging to him, you gasp and whisper his name into his skin, feel the muscles on his back tense as he thrusts deeper. The wave of bliss hits you so hard your vision turns blurry and for a few seconds it feels like you’re not there.
  *
Reality comes back to you slowly, with all the dark and troubled thoughts you can’t escape. Leo is lying next to you with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, so you think he must be asleep. Good for him. Carefully, you slip out of the bed to get a glass of water. It doesn’t help you to get rid of the lump in your throat though. Back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed and let out a deep sigh, trying to fight back tears. Too many emotions for one night.
“Y/n.”
Leo’s voice doesn’t even seem sleepy. You can feel him shifting in bed to reach you, the warmth of his calloused hand stroking your back soothingly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, uh
” You shake your head, bringing your hand to rub your eyes. “I’m good. It’s just
 It’s been a while since I
 You know
”
“I know. It’s been a while for me as well.”
“I lost my boyfriend three years ago,” you blurt out, surprising yourself that you said it out loud. “During the Purge night. He um
 He was a medical student. We lived in an apartment building and we heard someone crying for help. I wanted to stop him but he just couldn’t ignore someone who needed help, you know. He got shot accidentally, right into his head. There was no chance to save him.”
Leo’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder.
“Sorry, I
 Don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’ve never talked about him since the funeral
”
“It’s okay,” he moves closer, pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.
“I was so angry at first, you know,” now that you start talking you seemingly cannot stop. “I wished I could find and kill them. But then I thought he wouldn’t want me to become a murderer...”
He presses his forehead against the back of your head for a moment. “I know how you feel, y/n.”
You finally turn to meet his gaze. 
“I lost my son. I know what this anger feels like. Two years ago all I was thinking about on the Purge night was revenge. I was determined, almost obsessed.”
“Did
 you do it?”
“No. I was close to it. Very close. But
 One wise person made me realize that it wouldn’t help. Violence only brings more violence.”
“It has to be stopped,” you whisper.
“Yes,” he nods. “That’s why I left the police. Cops have to stay away from the Purge. I couldn’t any more. At least now I know I'm doing the right thing.”
“Right
 Just
 I’m just scared of losing you too,” you say very quietly, but he hears you anyway. His strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer, enclosing into his warmth. Making you feel safe.
“Hey, hey...” He whispers into your hair as he nuzzles into the top of your head. “It’s not gonna happen, you hear me? Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise.”
  *
You have no doubt your colleagues noticed who drove you to work this morning. But today no one is in the mood for comments, not even Stella. Even though the work goes on as usual, there’s still this tension in the air before the Purge night. 
Through the window you can see a bunch of guys gathered around the car with an open trunk full of baseball bats and other stuff you can’t discern. The owner proudly shows off his stuff, other guys laugh, they look pretty chill and relaxed, and your stomach nearly twists at the sight. 
  *
All night you could barely sleep a wink. A knock on the door drags you out of troubled slumber. At first you’re not even sure if you really heard it or it was in your dream. But the sounds repeat and you jump off the bed and without even caring to slip something over the huge t-shirt you sleep in. Barefoot, you rush to the door, open it with shaky hands.
He looks so exhausted it seems like he can barely stand. The collar of his shirt that used to be white is now stained with blood. And yet
 He’s smiling.
“Leo!..” you gasp, stepping towards him and bringing your hand to his stubbly cheek. “Oh my god, are you
 Everything okay?..”
“I’m great,” he breathes out huskily, and his smile slowly turns into a wide grin. “We did it, baby.”
You don’t even try to hold back tears as you fall into his arms, bury your face into his chest. He smells a bit like sweat and blood, but you absolutely don’t care. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you mumble into his ruined shirt. “I’m here,” he whispers back, stroking your hair. Then you realize the two of you are still standing at the porch.
“Alright,” you say, drawing back a little. “Let’s get you in, you need some rest
 And you’re probably hungry too
 And you definitely need a shower
”
“Wait, y/n. Let’s just
 Stay here for a bit? I think we both need to catch a breath,” he chuckles crookedly, reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. You smile back.
“Okay.”
  Sitting on the porch with your head on Leo’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your frame, you watch the sky becoming lighter and lighter as the dawn breaks. You can hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. The city’s slowly getting back to life, waking up after another nightmare. 
You both know it’s not the end, the war isn’t won yet, but at least you won this very important battle. And for the first time in what seems like ages you have a good feeling about the future.
*
Thanks for reading! 
Hugs, Lucy
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